Suchergebnisse

"Final report: project no. 9-C-003." ; Bibliography: p. 352-369 ; Photocopy. ; Mode of access: Internet.

Problem: The home school movement in America presents a rapidly-emerging alternative to conventional educational systems. The purpose of this study was to identify selected characteristics of home schools and the parents who operate them. Method: The population used in this descriptive research was drawn from the files of the Hewitt Research Foundation, Berrien Springs, Michigan. Potential respondents were parents indicating recent experience or interest in home school operations. The study was designed to develop a profile of home schools and home school operators by identifying central tendencies in the respondent data. A mailed questionnaire asked the parents questions in five areas: 1. Reasons for operating home school 2. General nature of home schools 3. Essential elements for home school success 4. Psychographic characteristics of home school operators 5. Demographic characteristics of home school operators. Findings. Data analysis produced the following findings: 1. Major reasons expressed by parents for operating home schools (in order of importance) were: concern about the moral health and character development of their children; detrimental effect of rivalry and ridicule in conventional schools; parent-perceived poor quality of public school education; and the desire to extend parent-child contact. 2. General nature of home schools revealed by responses indicate these typical home school characteristics: a small, family enterprise, averaging two children and sponsored by both parents; informal, child-centered, relatively flexible program. 3. Parent-perceived success factors (in order of importance): love of children, strong parental determination, family unity in enterprise, support from friends and others, economic ability to afford the additional expenses. 4. The psychographic profile indicated that parents were, for the most part, politically conservative and attend church regularly. Home school operators expressed concern over violence in public schools, and excess government control. They reported themselves as occasional travelers and moderately active in community affairs. 5. The demographic profile indicated the following characteristics: home school operators, for the most part, live in small or rural areas; come from diverse, non-traditional religious backgrounds; and tend to have small families. Generally, operators were homemaking mothers whose spouses were professionals or skilled workers, with a household income ranging between $15,000 and $20,000 per year. Parents typically have attended between one and three years of college. Conclusions and Recommendations: These parent profiles identify a segment of the U.S. population likely to initiate and operate home schools. They tend to be individualistic, law-abiding, concerned about their parent role, dissatisfied with available options in contemporary education, and actively engaged in implementing their own solution. They desire to reestablish the home as the basic unit in a free enterprise society and are willing to confront social opposition in order to meet their personal goals. State boards of education should restudy the home school as a valid method of education. It is recommended the provisions be made for home schools to be given experimental school status, with home school students being made part of the local school pupil count. This would encourage local schools to play a more encouraging role toward home schools.

Problem. The task of educating youth for the employment needs of a developing country such as Jamaica is a challenging one. Career aspirations is an important part of this process. Efforts are being made on the part of the Jamaican government to meet this continuing challenge, particularly at the secondary level. Since no studies have previously been done to identify the career aspirations of Jamaican college students, it was the purpose of this study to identify those aspirations to determine is any significant difference exists between them and the manpower needs of the country. The problem of befitting youth for the world of work will be made easier if the educators and national planners are aware of the career aspirations of their youth, especially those at the college level. By this awareness program offerings can be studied for meeting the personal needs of students as well as guiding them into professions that are needed for the country. Method. Fifteen colleges were chosen by a stratified random sampling method from among all independent and government (tertiary) institutions in jamaica, to include rural and urban colleges as well as colleges by type (i.e., teacher training, business and commercial, community, etcetera). All available seniors were tested representing a total of 695 seniors from a population of 790 which provided a sample size of 88 percent. The Career Aspiration Form (CAF), which was an instrument particularly designed for the study, was used to collect the data. The CAF contained fifteen items. Analysis of the data was done using (1) Chi-square Goodness of Fit and chi-square Contingency computer programs to test for differences of significance among variables in hypotheses 1 and 2, (2) the statistical test for finding the Standard Error of a Proportion for sub-hypotheses dealing with differences in individual categories. Since the approach taken in the study was the "ex-post facto" causal-comparative method, data not receiving statistical analysis were reported descriptively. The Cramers Phi was used as a test for the strength of the differences for hypotheses 1 and 2. Results. The analysis of the data yielded a statistically significant difference between the career aspirations of jamaican college seniors and the manpower needs of the country. The data also depicted a statistically significant difference between the career aspirations of seniors attending independent institutions and those attending government institutions. The strength of the difference indicated by the Cramers Phi was .70 and .57 for hypotheses 1 and 2, respectively. With an effect size of .50, the data summary not only revealed statistical significance but also practical significance. Analysis of sub-hypotheses 1A-1F resulted in statistically significant differences existing between the proportion of career aspirations of Jamaican college seniors and the proportion of need for personnel in each occupational category in jamaica. Conclusions. The findings of this study suggest a disparate relationship between the career aspirations of Jamaican college students and the manpower needs of Jamaica. Students attending independent colleges have career aspirations that are significantly different to students attending private government institutions. Item responses to the CAF indicate that many students are not receiving professional help in career guidance, and so that educational program of the colleges do not adequately address itself either to the personal vocational development of the students or the manpower needs of jamaica. Both government and independent educational programs are in need of professional counselors and career education services to function in a manner that will narrow this existing existing gap between aspirations and manpower needs.

What happens to sociology graduates? A mailed questionnaire follow-up study of 267 recent graduates of a maritime university revealed that most of them continue their education in a professional or semi-professional school, usually a school of education or a school of social work. A high proportion of graduates, especially women, become teachers. Many obtain jobs in social welfare agencies, whether or not they continue their education. A small percentage without further education get jobs as research workers for government departments. The women all seem to be oriented to work outside the home, even if presently unemployed. They tend, however, to be in traditional "women's occupations" or "semi-professions," and rarely in supervisory or administrative positions. The graduates in sociology of this maritime university come in high proportions from blue-collar backgrounds. They tend to see their own careers as being upwardly mobile through normal progression to administrative, supervisory, and managerial positions in the educational, social service, and public service sectors of society. They are also geographically mobile, but most migration is within the province or the region. The results are compared with the findings of another study of the careers of 1976 and 1977 graduates in other disciplines and faculties of the same university. Some of the policy implications of the study, (from the perspectives of students, teachers, administrators, and governments) are discussed. ; Les diplômés en sociologie, que leur arrive-t-il? Un questionnaire envoyé comme suivi à 267 diplômés récents d'une université des provinces maritimes révèle que la plupart d'entre eux poursuivent leur formation dans une école professionnelle ou seim-profession-nelle, d'habitude une faculté de pédagogie ou une école de formation pour travailleurs sociaux. Une proportion élevée de diplômés, en particulier des femmes, deviennent des enseignants. Beaucoup d'entre eux trouvent des emplois dans des agences de bien-être social, s'ils continuent ou pas leurs études. Un petit pourcentage d'entre eux sans forma-tion ultérieure trouvent des emplois en tant que travailleurs sociaux auprès des ministères gouvernementaux. Les femmes semblent toutes s'orienter vers un travail en dehors de leur maison, même lorsqu 'elles sont actuellement sans emploi. Elles ont tendance, toutefois, de se trouver dans des "emplois réservés à la femme" ou des métiers dans les marges des professions libérales. Elles occupent rarement des postes administratifs ou de superviseurs. Les diplômés en sociologie de cette université des provinces maritimes proviennent en haute proportion des cols bleus. Ils ont tendance d'envisager leurs propres carrières comme mobiles et à la hausse en progressant de façon normale, dans les secteurs de l'enseignement, des services sociaux et de la fonction publique, des postes administratifs à ceux de surveil-lance et de gestion. Ils sont également mobiles sur le plan géographique - en se mutant le plus souvent à l'intérieur de la province ou de la région. On compare les présents résultats à ceux d'une autre étude sur les carrières des diplômés (1976 et 1977) dans d'autres disciplines de la même université. Il s'agit de certaines impli-cations de l'étude quant à l'orientation de la politique (les perspectives des étudiants, des enseignants, des administrateurs et des gouvernements).

The relationship of traditionalism (knowledge of traditional stories), teachers' evaluations of traits (skill, punctuality, security, leadership, use of English, and personal appearance), social relationships (manner of relating, friends--non-Indian or Indian, who do they talk to about problems, and marital status), and productive activity (amount of time spent in employment, school, and military) to existing attitudes toward reservation living, non-Indian way of life, and a combination of the two attitudes, attitudes toward life, was studied for the Navajo male 1 964 graduates from Intermountain School by using simple correlation and other methods. Due to the exploratory nature of the study, and the limitation of small sample size (34 males) the findings are at best only suggestive. A typology was developed and applied to the data. The typology, derived from the graduates' negative and positive attitudes toward life, consisted of Navajos who varied on a continuum. This continuum was arbitrarily broken down to describe Navajos who are bi-cultural, monocultural W (adjusted to white), monocultural N (adjusted to Navajo) and alienated from both cultures. Few significant correlations were found, but possible tendencies were indicated. Correlations suggested that low evaluations of Navajos' traditionalism, traits, and social relationships with traditional Navajo reference groups may be associated with positive attitudes toward reservation living. Probably due to the differences in approaching the data, the findings of the tabular analysis were contrary to those of the correlations. The tabular analysis suggested that those indi viduals who were bi-cul tural or who were monocul tural W tended to have high evaluations for traits and social relationships, while those individuals who were alienated or who were monocul tural N tended to have low evaluations for traits and social relationships. The majority of graduates were found to have a high evaluation of traditionalism, suggesting the traditionalism can be a hindrance or an aid to adjustment, depending on the individuals' internalized traits and social relationships. Productive activity may be a measure of how well the Navajo connntmicated with the white world rather than a measure of adjustment.

The rural-urban differential was investigated in its relationship to certain expressed attitudes relating to natural resource development, use, and control. The rural-urban differential was also investigated as a variable affecting expressed attitudes toward the educational, economic, and political institutions. The two sets of expressed attitudes were then correlated to each other. A difference was found between the rural and the urban groups regarding their expressed attitudes concerning natural resource development, use, and control. Differences between the rural and the urban groups were also found in regard to attitudes toward the political institution. No significant differences were found regarding the attitudes towards economic and educational institutions. No significant relationship was found between the attitudes toward natural resources and attitudes toward the three social institutions. The uniformity of behavior related to natural resources indicated that there is possible.

Ph.D. dissertation by James Lane Gillings submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Sociology, Utah State University, 1969. Typewritten, 126 single-sided pages with interview schedule in appendix. Includes tables and Gillings's vita. ; The rural-urban differential was investigated in its relationship to certain expressed attitudes relating to natural resource development, use, and control. The rural-urban differential was also investigated as a variable affecting expressed attitudes toward the educational, economic, and political institutions. The two sets of expressed attitudes were then correlated to each other. A difference was found between the rural and the urban groups regarding their expressed attitudes concerning natural resource development, use, and control. Differences between the rural and the urban groups were also found in regard to attitudes toward the political institution. No significant differences were found regarding the attitudes towards economic and educational institutions. No significant relationship was found between the attitudes toward natural resources and attitudes toward the three social institutions. The uniformity of behavior related to natural resources indicated that there is possib

Bibliography: pages 203-216. ; The primary aim of this study is to explore the social structures of the Greek ethnic minority in South Africa, and the process of assimilation and integration of this minority within this particular society. The study is divided into four chapters, each having its own importance. In the first chapter, there is a synoptic picture of the different stages of Greek emigration abroad, the analysis of the push factors and causes of this phenomenon, and its consequences for the Greek economy and society. The second chapter deals with the historical background of the Greek immigrants in the country, with the main focus on the educational and occupational mobility of the younger generations as well as the intra-generational mobility among Greek immigrants of all periods. Chapter Three deals with the process of assimilation and absorption of Greek immigrants of all generations into South African society (focusing mainly on the integration of the younger generations of South African born Greeks), and the consequences of this absorption at all levels. This chapter deals with the socialisation process taking place in the South African school which is a major socialisation factor; and the contradictory functions of the South African school and the Greek family, environment, and the Greek Orthodox Church, functioning as contra-factors towards the structural assimilation of the younger Greek generations in the country. Finally, the last chapter deals with the class composition of the Greek immigrants in South Africa, with the main focus on their present economic position and their ideological and political attitudes. The increasing phenomenon of the alienation of the Greek middle-class immigrants in the country is also dealt with in this chapter.

There is perhaps no better setting in which to discuss the role of social research in the courts than that of school desegregation. From its early, rural, southern beginnings in Brown to its present, urban, northern manifestation in the Detroit case of Milliken v. Bradley, empirical evidence has been used in the litigation. In 1954, the Supreme Court declared that "[s]eparate educational facilities are inherently unequal" and ruled that the separate-but-equal doctrine of Plessy v. Ferguson—which for half a century had legitimated Jim Crow legislation—had "no place" in the public schools. Eleanor Wolf, Professor of Sociology at Wayne State University, provides a detailed account of this litigation in Trial and Error: The Detroit School Segregation Case. This article reviews the book and uses it as a springboard to examine broader issues concerning the uses and limits of social research in the judicial process. Since judicial reliance on empirical inquiry may vary according to the problems under consideration, these issues cannot be addressed in the abstract. They have to be discussed in the context of a particular substantive problem; hence, the topic chosen here is school desegregation.

The purpose of this study was to trace the development of the content of the disciplines in the social studies curriculum in the public secondary schools of Utah from 1847 to 1967. The factors considered in dealing with the development of the social studies curriculum were: textbooks, courses of study, and associated teacher materials used by the students in the public secondary schools of the Utah territory and state. The school subjects within the social studies curriculum included: history, geography, civics, economics, psychology, sociology, and anthropology. These school subjects were examined chronologically for the period, 1847-1967, to determine events that reflected major educational changes in the school curriculum of Utah. From the findings of the study, it was concluded that: 1. History as a subject in the public secondary schools of Utah from 1847 to 1967 was characterized by growth and development. This was through the greater availability of textbooks and the appearance of the subject at different grade levels. National committees in the United States have prominently influenced the instructional content of history in Utah through textbooks and courses of study. 2 . Geography was taught as a separate subject of study in the public secondary schools of Utah. As one of the first of the social studies offered it received major emphasis during the territorial period. Efforts in the nineteenth century to improve the geography textbooks in American education brought forth materials that included maps, globes, drawings of the earth's physical features, and study of the pupil's home region, Present-day practices traced to national developments came from the Committee of Ten, 1892, and the 1916 report of the Committee of Social Studies by the National Education Association which exerted influences on geography instruction in the secondary schools of Utah. 3 . Civics and other associated materials in the political science field including law and constitution owe their greatest debt of existence in the Utah territorial schools to the teaching of American history, The first evidence of a separate offering of materials from the study of civics in Utah's public schools was in 1892. On the national level various committee reports since 1892 by the American Political Science Association, American Historical Association, and the National Education Association have materially shaped school courses in Utah in the great task of citizenship training. 4. Economics, formerly known as political economy, never enjoyed a prominent position in the schools of Utah. During the first three decades of the present cenmry the subject of economics gained a foothold in the program of studies of Utah schools, Since the 1960's implementation of economic materials have assisted in promoting greater economic understanding. S. Psychology as a school study was found in other subject-matter textbooks used in Utah secondary schools before psychology became an independent and separate subject in 1921. A very limited number of high school textbooks in psychology on state approved textbook listings, over the years, may be evidence that this subject has not been a strong, separate and independent subject in Utah schools. 6. Sociology prior to 1913 was not an independent subject of study in Utah schools. Since 1913 it has been taught on a limited basis. The emerging in 1930 of the course in present-day problems in American democracy contained then as it presently does, elements of sociology, economics, and political science. 7. Anthropology in Utah schools had been taught from the behavioral content of history, geography, sociology etc., but there has been little effort to identify the anthropological concepts. Anthropology has not yet become firmly established as a separate and independent subject in Utah schools.

Issue 29.4 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3at Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical appro,'al by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri ¯ 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1970 by REVIEW FOR RELtO~OUS at 428 East Preston Street~ Baltimore, Mary* land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to p~rsons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where a~eom-panied by a remittance, should be scat to REvz8w ~oa RE~m~ous; P. O. ~x 671; Bahimo~, Ma~land 21203. Changes of addr~, b~n~ co~es~nd~ce, and orders ~t a~¢ompanitd ~ a rtmittanee should be ~t tO REVIEW ~R RELIGIOUS ; 428 East ~eston St~t; BMfmo~. Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts. ~ito~al cor- ~s~ndence, and ~ks for ~iew should ~ sent to R~v~w ~oa R~m~ous; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~u~ 63103. Qu~dons for answering should be s~t to the add~ of the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JULY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER4 MOTHER MARY FRANCIS, P.C.C. Creative Spiritual Leadership If we are going to talk about creative leadership, we shall first of all want to clarify what we mean by leader-ship and what we mean by creative. That these are not self-evident terms or even pr~sen.tly readily understand-able terms should be obvious from an imposing current witness to creative leadership envisioned as an abolition of leadership, and a transversion of creativity into annihi-lation. While it is true enough that, theologically ~and philosophically speaking, annihilation is as great an act as creation, hopefully we do not analogically conceive of our goal in leadership as being equally well attained by annihilation or by creativityl As God's creativity is to cause to be, something that was not, our creativity as superiors who are quite noticeably not divine, is to allow something that is, to become. As a matter of fact, we assume a responsibility to do this by accepting the office of superior. Much has been and is being written and said about the superior as servant. This is so obviously her role that one wonders what all the present excitement is about. Quite evidently, Otis role, this primary expression of leadership, has been for-gotten by some superiors, even perhaps by many supe-riors, in the past. But why should we squander present time and energy in endlessly denouncing such past forget-fulness? Let us simply remember truth now, and get on with our business. One characteristic of creative leader-ship is to point a finger at the future rather than to shake a finger at the past. St. Clare wrote in her Rule more than seven hundred years .ago that the abbess must be the handmaid of all the sisters, not pausing to labor so evident a fact but simply going on to give some particulars which have a ve.ry modern ring: the abbess is to behave so affably that the sisters can speak and act toward her as toward one who serves them. That dear realist, Clare of Assisi, who Mother Mary Francis, P.C.C., is federal abbess of the Collettine Poor Clare Federation; 809 E. 19th Street;. Roswell, New Mex-ico 88201. VOLUME 29 1970 497 ÷ ÷ Mother Francis REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS passes so easily from blunt warnings about such un-monastic natural virtues as envy, vainglory, covetousness, and grumbling, to airy reminders that it is no good get-ting angry or worried about anyone's faults as this merely deals charity a still severer blow--that dear realist had obviously run up against so~ne personalities who were "handmaids" sufficiently formidable to discourage any-one's rendering them personal recognition in this area. The abbess is supposed to be lovable, for St. Clare en-visions a community where sisters obey a superior be-cause they love her and not because they dread her. This was quite a novel as well as a radical theology of superior-ship in Clare's day. And if it remains radical today, it is a great shame that it sometimes remains novel also. The medieval saint makes so much of this point of the lovable-hess of the superior that she returns to it in her dying Testament, begging her successors that they behave them-selves so that the sisters obey them not from a sense of duty but from love. It's not just the same thing she is saying again, however. You note that whereas in the Rule she does not want any fear or dread of the superior, in the Testament she rules out dutifulness as well. It has got to be a matter of love itself. Who, after all, would want to be loved out of a sense of duty? It would be in-suiting, really. Any normal superior would rather be loved in spite of herself than because of her office. St. Clare makes quite a point in her brief Rule and Testament of describing the manifestations of this lovableness she so insists upon. She gives us her idea of creative leadership. And its present practicability may make us want to pause and clear our throats before the next time we utter that bad word, "medievalism," as an indictment. Besides the general affability which Clare describes in Rule and Testament, she underscores an availability rather beyond and considerably more profound than the "let's sit down in the cocktail lounge and talk about salvation history" mentality. St. Clare wants an on-site superior who is "so courteous and affable" (there's that word again) that the sisters can tell her their troubles and need~, seek her out "at all hours" with serene trust and on any account,--their own or their sisters'. This last point is particularly arresting, considering again that this is a medieval abbess delineating the characteristics of a creative superior as she conceived those characteristics in about 1250, not a 1970 progressive-with-a-message. Clare did not favor isolationism in community. Each of her nuns was supposed to notice that there were other nuns around. And she called them sisters, which was quite original in her day. She favored coresponsibility quite a while before the 1969 synod of bishops, taking it for granted that the abbess was not to be the only one concerned for the good of the community, but that it belongs to the nature of being sisters that each has a lov-ing eye for the needs of all the others. Again, there is her famous saying: "And if a mother love and nurture he~ daughter according to the flesh, how much the more ought a sister to love and nurture her sister according to the spiritl" Yes, it does seem she ought. And maybe we ought to be as medieval as modern in some respects. For some medieval foundresses did an imposing amount of clear .thinking on community, on sisterliness, on the meaning of humble spiritual leadership which we, their progeny, could do well to ponder. So, there's affability, availability, accessibility. When we read St. Clare's brief writings and savor the droll confi-dences given in the process of her canonization, we can conclude that this superior often toned her sisters down but never dialed them out. Then, St. Clare insists that the creative spiritual leader be compassionate. There is no hint of a prophylactic de-tachment ~om human love and sympathy nor of that artificial austerity which pretends that to be God-oriented is to be creature-disoriented. No, Clare says of the su-perior: "Let her console the sorrowful. Let her be the last refuge of the troubled." Note, she does not tell. the contemplative daughter to work it all out with God, and that human sympathy is for sissies. And she warns that "if the weak do not find comfort at her [the abbess'] hands," they may very well be "overcome by the sadness of despair." Those are quite strong terms from a woman who did not trade on hyperboles or superlatives and was no tragedienne. Again, she has something v~ry plain and very strong to say about responsibility. For we had better not talk about coresponsibility unless we have understanding of primary responsibility. "Let her who is elected consider of what sort the burden is she has taken upon her and to whom an account of those entrusted to her is to be rendered." So, Clare will have the superior clearly under-stand that she has a definite and comprehensive responsi-bility to a particular group of people, a responsibility which is immeasurably more demanding than counting votes to determine the consensus. She is supposed to cre-ate and maintain an atmosphere in which sisters can best respond to their own call to holiness. Obviously, she can-not do this alone. But she is the one most responsible for making it possible for each sister to contribute her full share in creating and maintaining this atmosphere. She is the ,one who is particularly responsible for not just al-lowing, but helping the sisters, and in every possible way, to r~alize their own potential. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leadership VOLUME 29, 1970 499 + + + Mother Frands REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~00 If I may deliver to any possibly frustrated or depressed superiors some glad tidings out of my own small experi-ence, I beg to announce this finding: Sisters are not as hard on superiors as many dour authors make them out to be. They do not expect perfection in the superior. They are, as a matter of fact, quite ready to pass over the most obvious faults and failures in the superior as long as they know she loves them and would do anything in the world for them, and is herself struggling along with them to "walk before God and be perfect," and having just as hard a time as they with this quite exacting but certainly thrilling divine program. Isn't it, after all, singularly ex-hilarating to have been asked by a God who has witnessed all one's past performances, to be perfect as He is perfect[ But that is an aside of sorts. The point I was making is that sisters will sooner forgive the faults of the warm-hearted than the "perfection" of the coldhearted. At least that is my personal observation. It is not faults that alienate people, it is phoneyness. And may it always alienate them, for it is nothing to make friends with. Now, if the superior is set to create and to make it possible for the sisters to help create an atmosphere suited to the response to a divine call to holiness, this atmog-phere will have to be one of real human living. For the only way a human being can be holy is by being a holy human being. I believe one of the more heartening signs of our times is the accent on humanness. For one of our tiredest heresies is the proposal that the less human we are, the more spiritual we are. Another aside I am tempted to develop here is a reflection on how we describe only one type of behavior as inhuman. We never attribute that dread adjective to the weak, hut only to the cruel. .But I had better get on with what I was saying, which is that dehumanized spirituality is no longer a very popular goal. This is all to the good. However, we shall want to be sure when we talk enthusiastically about the present ac-cent on real human living in religious life that the quali-fying "real" is not underplayed. It needs rather to be underscored. Certainly we would evince a genuine poverty of thought to equate real human living with ease. On the other hand, there is evidently a direct ratio between sacrificial living and real human fulfillment, between poor, obedient living and joy, between ritual and liberty, between the common task and real (as opposed to con-trived) individuality. Genuine common living in reli-gious life is not the witness of the club, but of the com-munity. Its real proponents are not bachelor girls, but women consecrated to God as "a living sacrifice holy and pleasing to God." Our blessed Lord emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant. And no one yet has ever been fulfilled by any other process than kenosis. Beginning with the Old Testament, history affords us a widescreen testimony to the truth of the binding and liberating power of sacrifice. It binds the individuals in a community together, and it liberates both individuals and the community as such into the true and beautiful expression of self-ness which is what God envisioned when He saw that each of His creations was very good. History shouts at us that self-ness is not a synonym but an antonym for selfishness. May we have ears to hearl Just as nothing so surely situates persons in isolationism as establishing a mystique of ease and a cult of comfort, so does nothing so surely both promote and express genuine community as sacrificial action, whether liturgical or do-mestic. This generation feels it has come upon the glori-ous new discovery that the world is good. It is indeed a glorious discovery, but not a new one. St. Francis, for one, discovered this in the thirteenth century. But if joyous Francis owned the world, it was precisely because he never tried to lease it. It is essential that the creative superior be a living reminder that our situation in time is not static but dy-namic, our involvement in the world urgent but not ulti-mate, our service of others indicative rather than deter-minative, and our earthly life not a land-lease but a pilgrimage. Somewhere or other I recently read that the one good line in a new play whose name I happily can-not now recall is the one where a character looks at a plush-plush apartment hotel and remarks: "If there is a God, this is where he lives." I seem to detect a bit of this mentality in some of our experimentation. This would be only mildly disturbing if it pertained to the kind of luxuriousness that keeps periodically turning up in his-tory until a new prophet-saint arrives on the scene to de-nounce it and expunge it from the local roster. What is deeply disturbing is that we are sometimes uttering brave and even flaming words about identifying with the poor at the same time that we are rewriting just this kind of past history. But that is another small aside from the large issue, which is real human living and the sacrificial element that is one of the most unfailing preservatives of that "real" in human living. The material poverty and inconvenience just alluded to is but a minor facet of the idea, but I do think it is a facet. Do any of us lack personal experience to remind us that the poorest communities are usually the happiest? Nothing bores like surfeit, nothing divides like ease. If it is true--and it is!--that the religious community does not rightly understand its vocation unless it sees it-self as part of the whole ecclesial community, the cosmic VOLUME 29, 1970 50! + ÷ ÷ Mother Frands REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community, it is equally true (because it is the same truth turned around) that the religious community will be to the ecclesial community and the cosmic community only What it is to itself and in itself. The creative leader will want to accent this to her sisters so that they can accent it to one another. Not verbally. Just vitallyl we shall be to the Church and to the world only what we are to each other, no more and no less. And what we are to each other will inevitably serve the Church and th~ world. Every superior is called to be a prophet. Perhaps we could even say that this is her highest creative service in allowing and assisting others to realize their potential and release their own creative energies. Now that we are all nicely educated to understand that the prophet is not the one who foretells the future so much as the one who says something about the present, the creative superior's prophet role becomes not only clear but uncomfortable. Jeremiah would doubtless have had a much higher popu-larity rating if he had limited his observations to a pleas-ant, "Shaloml" It is so much easier to say "Shalom" than to say "Do penance, or you shall all perish." Of course, it is best of all to prophesy both penance and peace, but we shall have to keep them in that order. And our own ef-forts to achieve that real human living which has to be rooted in penance and sacrifice give abundant testimony that peace is indeed a consequence of penance performed in love, of sacrifice as a choice of life style rather than just a choice among things. Obviously, obedience is the profoundest expression of sacrifice. And maybe one of the biggest mistakes that eventuated into that maternalism in religious communi-ties which has had us running such high temperatures in recent press years, is that of supposing that obedience is for subjects only. Allow me another aside to interject here another small idea I have been nurturing. It is, that "subjects" is a very poor word substitute for "sisters" and of itself precipitates a whole theological misconception of what and who a superior is. Subjects are persons ruled over. However, a servant does not rule. We need to get rid of the monarchical connotations of "subject." And if we begin by getting rid of the term "subject," we may be already better equipped to understand that the superior, as servant, is the first "abject.in the house of the Lord." Once we establish her as abject, we shall perhaps be less ready to label her "reject." A creative superior will have to excel in obedience. It is part of her role as prophet. She must obey others' needs at their specified time according to their manner and manifestations. She must respond not just to the insights God gives her, but to those He gives her sisters. She should obey their true inspirations as well as her own. She ought to be obedient to the very atmosphere she has helped the sisters to create. For we can never establish a communal modus vivendi and then sit back to enjoy it. Life, like love, needs constant tending. Life needs living as love needs loving. This very thing is essential to crea-tive leadership. Charity is a living thing and, therefore, it is always subject to fracture, disease, enfeeblement, paralysis, atrophy, and death. The prophet is more called to procla!m this truih and to disclaim offenses against this truth than to wear a LUV button on her lapel. It is much easier to waste a LUV banner at a convention than to tend and nurture love in those thousand subtle ways and by those myriad small services for which womanhood is specifically designed, in which religious women should excel, and to which religious superiors are twice called. Real human living which the creative superior is called to promote, can never be anything but spiritual, sacri-ficial, intelligently obedient, and--yes---transcendental. We need not be wary of the word or the concept. The new accent on horizontalism is well placed, for many of us seem to have got a stiffening of the spiritual spine with past concentration on verticalarity. Still, if we adopt a completely horizontal mentality, we are apt to drift off to sleep as concerns genuine spiritual values. After all, the position is very conducive to sleep. We are most fully human when we are vertical. Yes, we reach out horizontally, but our face is upturned to Heaven. The really lovely paradox is that it is only when our eyes are upon God that we are able to see those around us and recognize their needs. They are, after all, each of them "in the secret of His Face." It is a vital serv-ice of creative leadership that it emphasize the essentiality of the transcendental element in real human living. In fact, we could more accurately talk of the transcendental character of full human living than of any transcendental element. The term of our d~stiny is not on earth. There-fore, we shall never rightly evaluate anything that per-tains to earthly existence unless we see it or are attempt-ing to see it from an eternal perspective. And we shall never really live humanly unless we are living spiritually. Certainly we shall never have a religious community that abounds in warm human affection and mutual concern unless it is a religious community concerned primarily with the kingdom of God. We can properly focus on one another only when we are focused on God. For to be fully human is to share in what is divine: "He has made us partakers of His divinity." The most natural superior is, therefore, the most super-natural. And real human living must be based on a val- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 503 Mother Francis REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ues system that is transcendental. In these days one need scarcely look far afield to discover what becomes of com-munity when the values system is not transcendental. A group of individual women, each doing her thing, is' by no means the same as a community which has a thing to do. To such a community, each sister brings her own creative contribution, and in it each realizes her creative potential. And a servant of creativity is needed for all this. There is much more to be said about creative leader-ship, and others are equipped to say it much better. One can only speak out of one's own experience and with one's own limitations. However, it has been my observa-tion that cloister6d living does offer a certain insight into humanity which is sometimes different from that of per-sons whose professional qualifications doubtless exceed those of the cloistered nun. It's quite predictable, really. We ought to anticipate expertise in human living from those who have chosen to achieve human living in such close quarters. We should expect some spec~ial insights into humanity from those who see it at such dose range and on such limited acreage. So perhaps these simple thoughts may have some small point to niake. Let me add, then, only a final word about the realiza-tion of creativity and about the full expression of human living. We've talked about sacrifice, penance, obedience, transcendentalism. Recently, our sisters ran up against an example of a truly fulfilled human being. This was a priest in his seventies. At thirty, he'd got drunk. And a ,series of really devilish events conspired to turn that one mistake into a tragedy for which he was not responsible. He was used by bigots, manipulated by the circumstances they precipitated, and he was deprived of his priestly faculties. He sought help from his bishop who said it was all very sad, but he really could not do anything. He took it to Rome and got put in a file because, though it was all very sad, there was no canon to cover it. He turned to fellow priests who agreed it was all very sad, but they were very busy and there was nothing they could do about it. (I am very rejoiced to report that one Franciscan ~riar did try, desperately, to help.) No priest ever had more provocation to bitterness. He was the example classique of being treated as a number and not as a person. So, who could blame him that he wrote such vitriolic articles after he left the Church? Anyone could understand his contempt for the hierarchy. And when he sneered at the Roman Curia, you could only say that, after all, he had really had it. Only, the fact is, he did not leave the Church, nor did he write vitriolic articles, nor did he sneer. For forty years he lived the obscure life Of a workingman. He went to Mass each day. And he persevered in faith. God crowned that faith with exoneration of the past and the restoration of sacerdotal privileges only after~ forty years, but one can speculate on the interior crowning when one knows that this priest now offers dally Mass w~th tears that are neither self-pitying nor bitterly s~lding. He's just happy. He's just grateful. And he has obviously ex-perienced more personal fulfilment than any[of the local protestors, for he is beautiful to behold. And this is not to say that wrongs don't m~tter or that protests should never be lodged. It is merely] to offer for consideration the evidence of what suffering]and silence and unshakable faith can do in the line of creating a .I fully realized human being. Maybe supengrs need to point.up these things a little more than some] of us some-times do. ! I am scribbling some of this manuscript ag I watch at the bedside of a dying sister of ours. It's my !first experi-ence as abbess with death. And somehow all reflections on religious life, on community, on leadership, ~n creativity are turned upon this one deathbed in this one small cell. I lind it a very revealing perspective. Sister l~as a way of pointing at the ceiling regularly. And whdn you ask: "What do you see? What is there?" she does ~ot check in with a "vision." She just says: "Joyl" That is the direction to seek for it, if you want to lind it on earth. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 JOHN D. KELLER, O.S.A. Some Observations on Religious Formation and Spirituality John D. Keller, O.S.A., is the rector of the Augustinian Study House; 3771 East Santa Rosa Road; Camarillo, California 93010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There has been a great deal written and great amounts of private and public discussion on the subject of religious formation and spirituality in recent years. I hesitate, therefore, to add to an already prolonged dialogue. But I am encouraged to submit these observations to the wider review of the readership of this journal quite simply be-cause they are not those of an onlooker or expert but of a p.articipant.1 And they are not springing from the mem-ories (be they good or bad) of one person's own period of formation. I write as a member of a large diocesan seminary col-lege faculty and as rector of a small house of studies in which and out of which both clerical and non-clerical candidates are living life in community and preparing for the active ministry. I am not an expert, am not a scholar: I write not as sociologist or statistician or psy-chologist. I have a short memory as regards my own semi-nary and religious formation; with it I am not dissatisfied. For the past three and a half years I have been involved in establishing and guiding a rather minor innovation in the religious formation of candidates for my own order. For this lack of expertise I make no apologies for, I would judge, it is well that we hear more from those who come from the land of untidy students, not neat theory. It is a land where individuals correspond to no profile and frequently, alas, do not respond to the analyses and predictions of the community position paper makers. There is frequently quite a distance between theory and reality, between the goals and philosophy and plans of 1 This ~rticle is adapted from a talk given at the annual meeting of R~gion V (Western) of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men in Honolulu, Hawaii, November 3-5, 1969. community study groups and their implementation: pro-posed causes do not always neatly bring abdut their pro-posed effects. My intention is not to rehearse what is ~already (per-haps painfully so) known to you: Houses of formation, as the Church, are in a time of change, innovaltion, and ex-perimentation; initiative, Eersonal choice, ",apostolic ex-periences, questioning, persbnal growth, widening of re-sponsibilities, psychological, counseling ard all on the upswing and have occasion,ed, along with other realiza-tions and "discoveries," chafiges and propose~d changes in religious formation and approaches to th~ life of the Spirit. ' I would like to discuss some observations'I have made ¯ in living with and working with candidates and at the same time indicate the dire'ction of my thl~nking. Father Cuyler's recent report for CARA indicdtes that my thoughts are not without companyfl but there are cer-tainly many points of view. My experience i~ with college age candidates for a men's religious fxatern~ty, but these observations seem applicable in most cases ~o women re-ligious as well. I have grotiped my remarkS¯ under these three headings: the candidates; "format"lon~ ; and spirit-ual life. The Candidates It is axiomatic that our candidates are prgducts of our times. They are articulate; they have been ra,ised on visual media; many come from un'settled home cofiditions; they I are casual in their convers~ttion concermng sexual mat-ters; they respect honesty tb a high degree;' yet they are frequently infected with the cynicism which is prevalent in our society; and like youth of every age they are strug-gling with the personal resolution of the~ discrepancy between ideals and reality.,, ' A study of statistics indicates the number ~of candidates is lower than most of us hi~ve, perhaps been accustomed Io o to. What is most difficult t~ make a determination on is whether or not the quahty is better or, worse. Optt-mists have suggested that we have fewer candidates, but they are of better "quality'(--whatever that! might mean. Optimist or not, my observations are threefold: (1) Many candidates are coming forward with far less "background" as regards their prior religious formation than before. There are fewer presuppositions we might make as regards their general religious belief and prac-tices prior to their becoming.candidates for~ the religious life. The same may be said as regards their family train- I g Cornelius M. Cuyler, S.S., The Changing Direction o] thv Semi-nary Today (Washington: CARA, 1969). .I-÷ ÷ VOLUME 2% 197'0 ]. D Keller REVIEW FOR R[ LIGIOUS ing with regard to manners, use of time, their study habits, recreation, family life style, family authority roles, and so forth. These facts are facts of experience. It is not to say, necessarily, that life in community will be more difficult; but it does say that the trend toward longer pe-riods of probation and orientation is called for. There is a great deal that has to be "got used to." And we must be very patient. As regards background, there is a certain ambivalence in many candidates from another quarter. They are af-fected by a certain "image-lag." The monastic and tradi-tional concepts of priest and religious are still frequently present to the man considering seeking admittance to the religious life. Yet, for the most part, the candidate meets not the bell and cowl, but the call to be his own man and shirtsleeves. The men quickly adjust and very soon one-up us with their call for sandals and beards, but this is a crucial point for many as one image dissolves and the search for a new and more realistic one takes place. Candidates must be taken as they are and from where they are. The need at the moment, as perhaps it was also in the days of our own formation period, is for tremen-dous amounts of firm patience. (2) A second observation on our candidates: They ap-pear to me to be no more nor no less generous than other persons of other times and other places and in other walks of life whom I have known. To oversell their generosity at the offset is to provide the seedbed for the bitterness and resentment toward our new members which is sometimes disturbingly present both among men in the houses of formation and superiors of communities. Our candidates are aspirants--aspiring toward the ideal of Christ's generosity--but they are frequently selfish, their motivation (like ours) is not always 100% pure. And so in the proposing of our programs and in the formulation of policy, we want no penal colony; we do not want to poison the well of our trust in the possibility of doing good with a Lud~eran conception of man's ne'er-do-well nature, but we must accept the fact that selfishness and ignorance do coexist with a man's desire to make a gift of his service and of himself. High ideals coupled with selfish or inconsistent behavior do form a part of the men who wish to join our fraternities. This should not cause alarm: To help resolve this is one of the reasons for their being in training. (3) Our candidates, generally, come 'with the intent of joining in with us. They do want to be a part of what is going on in the religious family. A delicate process must be going on in which the men do feel that they are mem-bers of the fraternity according to their present commit-ment. They must be exposed to the community's mere- bership; join in (in differenlt capacities) the work of the fraternity; be closely linked with the style of life and values of the community. But at the same ume their in-volvement must not be too rapid: predetermined patterns and strong identification with the status quo might cancel out the fresh and renewing insights and contnbutxons of young members; premature inclusion might, make neces-sary withdrawal from the group more difficult or the need to withdraw less apparent; full exposure to all the prob-lems and "intimacies" of the family are not appropriate for the recently arrived and ~often can be a source of dis-traction for the real person,al work at hand. The need for committingl oneself to something is real and we dare not involve ourselves, once having accepted a candidate, in stringing hi.m along indefinitely. Candi-dates should become less and less strangers in our midst and more and more our friends and brothers, or they should leave. The task of formation is also that of inte-gration. Formation" The very notion of "formation" is under attack from some quarters: formation involves being "conformed to"; there is a mold, then, and the program is the cookie punch. Formation, then, is a, threat to the person and his own unique realization of himself. Formation, therefore, is bad and one more examp~le of the dehumanization of the individual not only present in the world but here too in the religious life. That is how the argument runs, and it is buttressed with innumerable examples from the folk-lore of community and convent. If this is what formation is.thought to be, or what it has been, it deserves condemnation. But this argumentation against formation may be refined; examples brought more into line with present practice; the extension of its con-demnation reduced--in gen,~ral, made more reasonable; and it will contain a more s~rious threat to what, I feel, must be involved in the intro~duction of new men into our fraternities. Candidates are joining a pre-existing group of men. They are joining themselves to and identifying them-selves with certain expressed, values and goals. There is a conformation element in the introduction of members to the community. This is related to the discussion by Branick of task and formation in the fine article pub-lished in the RrvlEw FOR I~LIGIOUS last year) This is a fact, I feel, which should not be minimized (personalized, yes, but not minimized). On the contrary, we must at- *Vincent P. Branick, S.M., "Formation and Task," R~vmw RELIGIOUS, V. 28 (1969), pp. 12-20. ,4- 4. + Formation VOLUME 29, 1970 509 ÷ 4. ÷ I. D. Keller REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 511) tempt to give in theory, practice, and the lives of our members a clear representation of our goals, our values, our style of life, our standards--who the community .is. We have an obligation to do this: The candidate has to make a judgment, and he has to be a real sharer in or tending toward these values, goals, and so forth or we cannot hope that his life among us in the future will be a happy one. This brings up a problem which is not the subject of these remarks, but which must be faced: We must have a rather clear understanding of who we are and what we stand for as a community. This does not have to be pre-sented in verbal fashion. In fact it is most convincing when it is seen (not read or heard); but if we have no standards, if we are not clearly standing for something, perhaps we should call a moratorium on accepting candi-dates. All of us are aware of the changes taking place in our houses of formation as regards house rules and discipline. I believe most of us agree with the general thrust of these moves and changes; we accept the rationale behind them. With them as a backdrop I would like to make the fol-lowing observations: (1) Freedom of choice and personally confirmed activ-ity are essential to growth in maturity. But people do make objectively bad choices. And when, with reason, a person's choice is thought to be a bad one, he should be told so. And if a person consistently makes bad choices, his candidacy should seriously be questioned. (2) Frequently candidates' principal occupation is that of studies. It is urgent that the academic program be ex-cellent, that it be demanding of the best the student pos-sesses. The good candidate wants to work; he is being prepared to work in the vineyard; if the candidate finds himself unable to work, he and his superiors, may take this as indication that he is not called to the brotherhood. (3) The period of training is real training for. There is a need, at times, for explicit correlation of the training and the work of the apostolate. This is particularly true of men in the college years. Not only the demands of the future apostolate, but also the present need of these Chris-tians to express their Christian concern for fellowman suggests the desirability and the practice of "apostolic works" during the years of formation. It is well that this be with men of the community already in the field; in works which are allied to the present and future works of the fraternity; that it be work with supervision and encouragement; that it be work with specific goals in mind and which meets the real needs of people in the area. But the experience of many is that this work can easily become overextended, irresponsibly carried out, and serve more as steam cock for seminary pressures than re-sponse to the needs of others. This is not to minimize the value and need of apostolic works. On the contrary, it is to say that because they are important, they deserve greater attention. (4) Part of formation today must include training in the forms of religious obedience which are taking shape in our orders. If the form adopted is one which is relying on consultation with the community, a kind of collegial-ity and consensus, then men must be prepared to accept this responsibility and share in it intelligently. What must be developed, in view of failures in practice which I have witnessed in our own formed communities, is the accept-ance of the fact that regardless of the form in which deci-sions are reached (perhaps after discussion, consensus, and voting), .there is follow-through: though perhaps now seen as more "horizontal," obedience is still a virtue of religion and a normal extended expression of the will of God. (5) In general, there is a great need in formation for more leadership, not less. For the most part, students want more models, more example. They need more en-couragement to reach higher. In this regard I would rec-ommend highly John Gardner's two books Excellence and Self-Renewal.4 And so while authoritarianism will never do, there is in some parts a crippling vacuum of inspiring leadership and demanding standards. Spiritual Lile From "formation" I would like to move on to the sub-ject of the spiritual life. And as I do I would like to call attention to the principal point I wish to make, and at this moment violate. Formation and the spiritual life should not be taken as separate elements of introducing new members into our life. There are elements of discipline and training which we can separate and discuss as it they were separate. But the overriding impact upon the candidates in the house of formation must be that all is marked by the Spirit. We are brothers because we are all possessed by the same Spirit: our rules, discipline, relations between older and younger members, concern for each other, should all be formed by and judged against the Book of Life and the book of our life together. In this regard, conformity to good educational prac- ' John W. Gardner, Excellence: Can We Be Equal and Excellent Too. Renewal: The Individual and the Innovating Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1956). Formation VOLUME 2% 1970 4" 4" ÷ ~. D. Keller REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU5 tice seems imperative. Theory and practice must go side by side. And if we must err (as human it is), far better to be heavier on practice than on theory. Let the house of formation practice a real poverty, let the students realize the cost of living, the budget and the crimp of doing without--far better than theorizing. Let there be good liturgy in the house and let it be a central work and con-cern of the community--far better than a course in lit- There might be one exceptionmthe matter of prayer. Many students are inexperienced in the practice of forms of prayer encouraged in our lives. This most personal and delicate area must receive special attention. If riot, we in-troduce the. possibility of impersonal prayer and innumer-able "periods of prayer" which become education in non-prayer. All of our houses, but especially our houses of forma-tion, should show forth this authenticity: 1.ire in the Spirit finds expression in the life of the community--a kind of symbiosis where there is an unconscious flow and tele-vance of one to the other. In all the seminaries and houses of formation I have come in contact with recently, there is a noteworthy point of emphasis being given in the task of spiritual formation. This is the increased importance and use of what has tra-ditionally been called "spiritual direction." It goes by dif-ferent names and the priests and religious involved in it have varying competence, but its value as being very per-sonal and very helpful is quickly appreciated by our can-didates. Though conferences and classes remain necessary in providing a familiarity with our religious tradition, no house of formation should neglect this tremendous oppor-tunity, nor should religious superiors neglect the effort to provide easy access to the spiritual counselors our young members need. One final point with regard to the spiritual life--the much discussed question of religious chastity and celibacy. My experience in discussing the matter with college stu-dents, candidates for the diocesan priesthood and for the religious life, has been that it is far more a problem for journalists, theologians, and men who are already celi-bates than it is for these men. That is not to say that they do not have trouble with the virtue of chastity, nor diffi-culty in whether or not to make the choice for celibacy, or whether or not they are Opposed to celibacy as an obliga-. tory thing. It is to say that they can see celibacy held as both an ideal and a requirement and feel that they can make a personal, non-compelled, and religiously mean-ingful choice in favor of it. This contradicts the conclu- sions of the recent CARA study on the Seminarians ot the Sixties," but I report to you my personal experience. General Observations I would like to bring these remarks to a close with several general observations on our present situation. There are many possibilities for styles of formation. Most communities are presently in the midst of inaugu-rating revised programs. What needs to be said is that most probably many forms will "work" and different combinations of elements can overcome the deficiencies of a program. Students are willing to overlook the inade-quacies, or at least give them their understanding, as long as we show ourselves aware of them and attempt to compensate--and all the time show the interest which proves we care about them as candidates for full mem-bership and our brothers now. Houses of formation and formation programs are not, nor will they be, perfect. As our congregations and the Church herself, the house of formation will always stand in need of reformation. This fact itself can be educative for our students: houses of training will not be ideal, as life in the ministry and full membership in the commu-nity will not be ideal. This might be a source of rein-forcement for the sense of reality in the candidate needed for mature living and decision. In these moments there is a great need for leadership and encouragement in the works of formation as there is in the Church in general. For new members in particular, uncertainty and hesitancy on the part of those to whom they turn for leadership can be not only crippling but also compound the lack of sureness (despite their some-time's cocky appearances) which surrounds the young. In conclusion, may I point out the obvious and be ex-cused for underlining that which stands in bold print: In the selection of personnel for houses of formation, hap-piness in their own calI must be the primary requisite for such an appointment. And yet one more point: most of our houses have small groups of students and even where the groups are large the cadre system is frequently being employed. This means total immersion for the members of the staff and large amounts of wear and tear. Each member of the entire community does well to attempt to offer them his understanding and cooperation. This, fre-quently, is a very large contribution to the task which is vitally important to all of us, that of initiating new mem-bers into our fraternities. ~Raymond H. Potvin and Antanas Subiedelis, Seminarians ]or the Sixties: ,,1 National Survey (Washington: CARA, 1969), p. 89. + + + Formatlo. VOLUME 29, 1970 HUGH KELLY, s.J. The Heart oj Prayer ÷ Hugh Kelly, is on the staff of St. Francis Xavier's; Gardiner Street; Dublin 1, Ireland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 51,t "Lord, teach us how to pray." "When you pray say 'Our Father' " (Lk 11:1) That isa petition we must constantly address to our Lord. We must not expect to be taught how to pray once and for all so that we could exercise the art at will, as if we were masters of it. We must constantly be trying, ex-perimenting, learning. Of course if things between God and us were as they should be and as they once were, then prayer would be the most spontaneous, the most natural act of our life. It would not need to be learned. It would be as spontaneous as the smile of a child to its mother; as natural as the thrust upward of the cornstalk to the heat and light of the sun. There was something of that quality in the prayer of the Psalmist. The world about him spoke at once to him of the Creator. Everything in the universe pointed to God and invited him to pray. The sea, sky, earth, the'trees, the storm, the snow, the animals --all of these reminded him that he must praise God for them. Such a prayer was as natural, as necessary, as the act of breathing. It had not to be learned. It was a func-tion of man's activity. For reasons we need not stop to consider, that quality is no longer found in our prayer, or very seldom. Our relations with God are not so spontaneous. Man has so changed the world that it is difficult to see the hand of God in it. As a result prayer has become a complex thing, an art, that has to be learned and practiced with effort. Consider the excellent book of Cardinal Lercaro, Meth-ods of Prayer. It is a study of the different ways of prayer proposed by some of the recognized masters of the spiri-tual life. Each has his own approach and method of pro-cedure. But such methods could not be called spontane-ous or simple. They are elaborately studied. One of the masters, treated of by Lercaro is St. Ignatius. Here is how this saint introduces a prayer, the first meditation in the Spiritual Exercises: "This meditation is made with the three powers of the soul, and the subject is the first, second and third sin. It contains the preparatory prayer, two preludes, three principal points and a colloquy" (n. 46). Whatever the merits of such a form of prayer it could not be called simple or spontaneous. When we consider these different methods, which are so complex and so systematic, we may well ask if there is not somewhere in them a core or kernel of a purer prayer. If we unwrap the different layers, the steps, the tech-niques, shall we find at last something that is the heart or essence of prayer? "Is there.an essential prayer?" asks Y. Congar, O.P., "total, simple, which exceeds and em-braces all particular prayers?'; (Jesus Christ, p. 98). Is there something at the centre of each method, which is the same for all and which constitutes them true prayer? Something which, if absent, will leave them merely empty methods or systems? None of the commonly received definitions of prayer seem to give us what we seek. The definition of St. John Climacus, which is accepted by the catechism, that "prayer is an elevation of the soul to God" implies too much of a deliberate effort--that it is a matter of our own efforts and our own mmauve. It might equally apply to the study of theology, especially as it says noth-ing about love. The definition of St. Augustine comes closer to our aim: that prayer is a reaching out to God in love. Here there is indicated something spontaneous and natural; the role of love gets its recognition. But perhaps it speaks too much of our need of God and may be trans-lated too exclusively into a prayer of petition. It conveys the image the saint expressed in his phrase menclici Dei sumus--we are God's beggars; we stand before the Lord with outstretched hands. Our need of God is total; but our indigence is not our only approach to Him or our most immediate; it is not the ultimate root of our prayer. The words which kept St. Francis of Assisi in ecstasy for a whole night, "'Deus mi et omnia,'" "My God and my all," are certainly close to the heart of prayer. But they miss the essential constituent and inspiration of our prayer, that it is made to our Father. Obviously it is from our Lord alone that we must learn what is the heart of prayer. "Lord,. teach fis how to pray." It is instructive to note the promptness with which He answered that request, as if He had been waiting for it: "When you pray say 'Our Father.' " The condition of our most perfect prayer must be our assurance that we are addressing our Father, that we are addressing Him as Christ did. We are thus availing ourselves of the privilege which Christ won for us. When He said to Mary Magdalen, on the first Easter morning beside the opened empty tomb, "I ascend to My Father and to yours," He summarized His work of redemption: He ex-pressed the full dimension of His achievement. When we ÷ 4- Heart ot Prayer VOLUME 2% 1970 Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS say "Our Father" with the assurance which His Beloved Son has given us, we no longer pray merely as creatures, we are not considered by God as the beggars who stand at the door, still less as the puppies which catch the scraps falling from the table. We know we are the children of the household who have their rightful pla~e at the family board. Consider how our Lord emphasized the fatherhood of God in the Sermon on the Mount. The chief purpose of the discourse was to instruct us in our role as children: "That you may be the children of your Father, who is in heaven." Stretching out His hands to the simple folk, the fathers and mothers who sat around, He asked: "Which of you would give your child a stone, when he asks for bread? or a scorpion when he asks for a fish?" We can sense the movement of indignant rejection of such con-duct, in their faces and gestures. No, no; they would never dream of treating their little ones in that way. And then He points the lesson: "If you, evil though you are, can give good things to your children, how much more your Father in heaven will give good things to those who ask?" The little spark of love in a human father's heart which will urge him to be good to his child, what is it to the love in the heart of our Father in Heaven, from whom comes all parents' love? Nemo tam Pater, there is no father like God, St. Augustine reminds us. How much His Sonship meant to Christ, we gather from every page' of the Gospel. It is the source of His joy, confidence, exaltation. It is the support of His strength, His endurance, His resolve to carry out the mis-sion for which He was sent into the world. His life was entirely oriented to the will of His Father, was totally responsive to it. That orientation, that dependence, is His chief lesson to us. We too are sons of God and it should be the deliberate effort of our spiritual life to give our divine adoption its true place in our dealings with God, and not least in our prayer. "Our Father" might well serve us as the true heart of prayer. But there is another phrase of Christ, equally short, and perhaps even more full of suggestion, which might well give us what we are seeking. He spoke the phrase on the occasion of the return of the disciples from the short trial mission on which He had sent them to the cities of Israel to prepare the way for His own coming (Lk 10:17; Mt 11:25). Seeing their naive, childish joy in their suc-cess--" Lord, even the demons were subjected to us"--He thanked His Father for revealing to those little ones the spiritual truths He had concealed from the wise and prudent: "Yes, Father, so it was pleasing in your sight." Ira, Pater: "Yes, Father." This is His shortest prayer, and it is perhaps His most comprehensive one. It gives us His abiding attitude of mind to His Father. It reveals that His soul and spirit were always open to the Father, al-ways fully responsive to the Father's will. At first sight they indicate merely a mood of resignation and accept-ance, such as He showed especially in Gethsemane and on Calvary: "Not My will but Thine be done." But the words "Yes, Father" have a wider and deeper connota-tion. They cover all the emotions and reactions which were His as He looked on His Father's face. They ex-pressed not merely acceptance and submission; they con-vey approval, admiration, joy, praise, and most of all a loving agreement with all His Father is and does and asks. "It cannot be questioned," says Yves Congar, O.P., "that the prayer of loving, joyous adherence to the will of the Father was coextensive with the whole earthly life of Jesus" (Jesus Christ, 'p. 93). Perhaps in these words "Yes, Father" we too can find the heart and essence of our prayer and in some remote way may learn the prayer of our Lord. After all we are sons of the Son; we have within us His spirit who inspires us to say "Abba Father" --we may then without presumption make bold to say "Our Father" or "Yes, Father." These phrases indicate a prayer which is contempla-tion. They give the attitude of a soul which is facing God, looking at Him, listening to Him. "All prayer," says Y. Congar, "is communion in the will and mystery of God. This essential prayer consists in being receptive and wholly offered to God, so that He might be God not only in Himself---but also in His creatures" (Jesus Christ, p. 98). This prayer opens out the soul to catch the influ-ence of God. It looks to God expectantly to see, to learn, to receive, to respond, to admire, to accept, to praise, to approve, to thank. It mirrors in some way the riches of God. It will try to express itself sometimes in our Lord's words: "All My things are Thine and Thine are Mine" (Jn 17:10); sometimes in the words of the Psalmist: "What have I in heaven but Thee and there is nothing upon earth that I desire besides Thee" (Ps 72:26). St. Francis expressed this attitude to God in the words "Deus mi et omnia"--"My God and my all." Thomas "~ Kempis has voiced it in his great hymn of love: "A loud cry in the ears of God is that ardent affection of soul which says: My God, my love, Thou are all mine and I am all Thine; enlarge me in Thy love" (Imitation III:5). This is a rich prayer in which the constituents of all other kinds of prayers are found. It can register adoration, praise, thanks, petition, reverence, submission, offering, accept-ancemall the different moods of the soul when it feels its proximity to God. The phrase "Yes, Father" gives an at-mosphere, an attitude which "is one of total prayer, in which seeing and self-directing to what is seen, receiving ÷ ÷ ÷ Heart oy Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and self-giving, contemplation and going out from self, are all present, indistinguishably at the very core" (von Balthasar, Prayer, p. 65). This is substantially the re-sponse to the call of God. It is the response of the boy Samuel: "Here I am, for you called me" (1 Sam $:5). God made the first advance to man and spoke to him in His word: a word of love, an invitation to hear what God had planned and designed for His creatures~"Prayer," says von Balthasar again, "is communication in which God's word has the initiative and we at first are simple listeners. Consequently what we have to do is, first, listen to God's word and then through that word learn how to answer" (Prayer, p. 12). When this prayer of contemplation, of presence, reaches a certain degree of intensity, as with the mystics, it will be beyond the reach of analysis or explanation. The soul will remain passive, absorbed in God, knowing only how sweet it is to be so close to Him. But that state of intensity will not be frequent. Normally those who pray in this way are able to give some account of their meeting with God, to distinguish certain forms and fea-tures of prayer, and to realize how rich it is. We have access to the Father only through the Son. We are the sons of God because we share the sonship of Christ. Our prayer then must have the qualities of the prayer of Christ--we can speak in His words and make His prayer ours. The Father will recognize the prayers of His adopted sons as the blind Isaac recognized the voice of his younger son. There are certain notes and tones very frequent in the prayer of Christ which we must make our own. The Mass mentions these prayers explicitly: "He gave you thanks and prayers." And the Gospel testifies abundantly to them. They should be the chief features in our prayer. We should praise God just because He is God and most worthy of our praise. Our praise is the expression of the desire we have that He may be God in Himself and in His creatures. It is the theme of the first part of the Lord's prayer; it is the most frequent prayer of the Psalms. It is the highest, the most disinterested form of prayer. It is the opening note of the Magnificat, the prayer of our Lady spoken when the mystery of the Incarnation was at its newest. If prayer at its best is a loving attachment to God's will, then the prayer of praise must be the fullest attachment to God's will because it is God's will primarily that He should be God. The prayer of thanks may often be a variant of the prayer of praise. "We give Thee thanks for Thy great glory" the Church proclaims in the Gloria. We thank God for being Himself. Even if we owed nothing to Him, He would be most worthy of thanks just for being Him- self, the all powerful, the all perfect. But while fie is ill-finitely great He is infinitely good to us and therefore we must never cease to thank Him. That was the abiding mood of our Lord's soul: "Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard me. I know that Thou hearest me al-ways" (Jn 12:41). Our prayer then as sons of God must be as far as we can the the prayer of the only begotten Son, whose Sonship we share. It must express the fullest at-tachment to the will of the Father. It must be compact of adoration, submission, acceptance, all of these as expres-sions of love. We are justified in thinking that our Lady's prayer was of this kind, but in the highest degree. Her prayer was in a unique way a prayer of presence. It was fed from a double source. There was her interior union with the Holy Spirit who had come upon her and had done mighty things for her. But her interior contemplation of God and His design in the Incarnation was immensely deepened by her contact with her Son, the Word made flesh tlu'ough her. In a unique way she was in contact with the Word of God. She was more in contact with it than St. John and could give a greater testimony than his "What we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life--the life was made manifest and we saw it and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us" (1 Jn 1:1-2). In the visible presence of her Son she was always gazing on the Word, always listening to it. We are told explicitly of her study of Him, how she kept all His words and deeds in her heart and turned them over in con-templation. This was most truly a prayer of presence. She had but to open her eyes and ears and her mind would be flooded with light. How deeply would His words and deeds speak to one so disposed to hear, to a handmaid so responsive to the Father. When she turned over in her mind what she saw with her senses, what floods of light, what insight and consolation came to her. Who could tell of her growth in the knowledge of God in the long silent years at Nazareth? What more appro-priate prayer could she make than "Yes, Father" in which she gave a wholehearted approval to God's designs? On the eve of His passion Our Lord could give a sad repri-mand to the Apostles--"So long a time have I been with you and you have not known Me." We feel that He could not have given such a reprimand to His Mother though her insight and knowledge were gradual and ever grow-ing. Her prayer must have been an openness to God, a love of His will, a resolve to accept it and do it that could be found only in one so deeply concerned with the eternal designs of God. + 4- + Heart o] Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 519 Perhaps in such phrases as "Our Father" or "Yes, Father" we are at the heart 9f prayer and can find in them that which was the core of all the methods. Perhaps if we bypass the preludes, the techniques, the preliminaries, and enter 'at once into the presence of God and greet Him in such words, we shall experience that our prayer will become what it should be: natural and spontaneous, a genuine communication with God. Perhaps we are too eager to do the talking, to tell God "various things He knows already." We try to take the lead in the interviews --we expect God to be the patient listener. But surely this is a reversal of roles: "What do we do, when at prayer, but speak to a God who long ago revealed himself to man in a word so powerful and all-embracing that it can never be solely of the past but continues to resound through the ages?" (yon Balthasar, Prayer, p. 12). In the words, "Yes, Father" or "Our Father" we take up the true atti-tude of prayer. We stand before God, we listen to Him, we wait to know His will and His good pleasure; and these short forms of prayer will reveal our response to His word, our docility and submission, our gratitude and praise, and first and last our love. 4. 4. Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 5~0 ROBERT J. OCHS, S.J. Imagination, Wit, and Fantasy in Prayer Robert: How do you mean? voices? Joan: I hear voices telling me what to do. They come from God. Robert: They come from your imagination. Joan: Of course. That is how the messages of God come to us. riG. B. Shaw, St. Joan. This article is in the nature of a plea, even a kind of court plea, for a fcesh look at what used to be called dis-cursive prayer. Inasmuch as it is a court plea, it is a plea of "not guilty." This fresh look might exonerate dis-cursive prayer of two charges commonly leveled against it: of being dry meditation and of being the lowest rung on the prayer ladder, a step quickly taken on the way to the higher prayer of quiet. As we shall see, these two charges are not unconnected. If discursive prayer runs quickly dry, it is no wonder people look for something higher and it deserves its bottom rung. "Exonerating discursive prayer of guilt" is a metaphor. But exonerating those who practise it from their guilt complex is not. They do feel vaguely guilty before God and themselves when they are unsuccessful at it; and when successful they still feela kind of-inferiority com-plex about its lowly status, a feeling that by now they should have advanced beyond it to the prayer of quiet. They feel the only way of progress is up, and so they re-peat their occasional efforts at the prayer of quiet, with middling success. There would be scant harm in this if the prestige of the prayer of quiet did not relegate them to the role of spiritual slum dwellers, blocking their imaginations from exploring the possibilities which lie hidden under the forbidding category of "discursive prayer." This plea has two parts. One is to broaden the scope of discursive prayer to include fantasy, affective reactions (annoyance, complaining, rebellion as well as fervor; 4- 4- 4- Robert J. Ochs, S.J., is a faculty member of Bellar-mine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. VOLUME 29, 1970 521 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. 7. Ochs, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS desolation as well as consolation), and, not least, wit, an imaginative use of our heads. The other part is histori-cal, a look at the original narrowing of scope of dis-cursive prayer in the 16th and 17th centuries, which soon brought religious writers [ace to face with the widespread "problem of dryness" and issued in the recommendation of the prayer of simplicity as a solution. Not that it was a bad solution. The prayer of quiet is an excellent method for those who can use it. Leonard Boase's book The Prayer of Faith, recommending it again so persuasively-some years ago, came as a real release for many. But I would venture a guess that for every person who was liberated by it, two others eventually felt them-selves hampered, and dissipated their efforts to explore further in a discursive way. And Father Boase's sugges-tion that the night of sense (which includes a night of the intellect), an intense but brief period for great souls like John of the Cross, lasts a lifetime for the common lot, sounded like a sentence to an unlivable life in the twi-light. Boase conceived the work of the mind and imagina-tion as a linear, undialectical, and conflictless a.bsorption of the truths of revelation, that reaches its saturation point rather quickly. It is pretty much limited to medi-tation "in the sense of methodical, analytic study of sacred truth" (p. 47). Not surprisingly, such a simple absorption process can hardly be expected to last a life-time, and before long "the sponge is full" (~i6). Further activity of the mind can only lead to boredom, and so one had best turn to a quiet contemplative view of the whole. Reading Boase one gets the impression that the evolution of prayer is all rather tranquil and uneventful. No doubt our poor prayer seems to prove him right. And yet, one cannot help suspecting that beneath the placid surface of our not very exciting prayer a passion-ate world is seething. The itinerary Boase sketches (ad-mittedly, I am caricaturing this excellent book a bit) takes us along the periphery of this turbulent interior world instead of through it. One has only to recall the eventful cri~es which mark the milestones in any psychoanalysis to sense that something is missing. Ronald Laing has sug-gested that for all our interiority we moderns are living in another Dark Age, before the Age of Exploration of the interior world. The model for "appropriating the faith" might well be exploration and confrontation rather than simple absorption. The eminent historian of modern spirituality, Louis Cognet, has recently tried to get at the origins of this atrophy of discursive prayer. In some homey and yet polemical pages (Les probl~mes de la spiritualitd; Ch. 5; also La prikre du chrdtien, Ch. 8--both Paris: Cerf, 1967), he has attacked what he feels to be a centuries old misunderstanding. The anti-meditation bias arose out of a series of historical accidents in the 16th century and has narrowed the scope of prayer ever since. As he tells it, theology in the late Middle Ages had taken on a highly rationalistic form, becoming a domain of specialists, cut off from interior sources. Spirituality was divorced from it, and therefore divorced from any searching theological activity. Methodical prayer, using simple meditation man-uals, was introduced to provide the uncultured with something more accessible. Thus "meditation" came to be associated with this new idea of untheological prac-tical prayer. Its practice spread so that even the educated depended on these manuals for prayer. By the time so-called mental prayer had become general practice, the impression was also well established that it built on a narrow intellectual base~ The theologically educated lived split lives. However imaginatively they might use their wits otherwise, "mental" prayer engaged their minds very little. Frustration was not long in coming. Cognet is struck by the simultaneous emergence all over Europe of a new problem for the religious writers of this period~ the prob-lem of dryness and disgust. Theorists had to find a way of explaining and coping with the distaste which seemed to afflict educated people who embarked on mental prayer for any length of time. The generally accepted so-lution was to suppose that discursive prayer was just an elementary stage. Dryness was taken as a sign that this stage had served its purpose and should be left behind for more simple forms. Discourse in words and images was to give way to a contemplative look. This scheme became generally adopted during the 17th century. We find it in St. Teresa and John of the Cross whose authority has made it accepted in treatises on prayer down to our own day. It was a good solution for the problem so conceived. It served to highlight the special nature of the prayer of quiet, for which many had a real capacity. But others who could not follow this way out, whose prayer re-mained obstinately discursive for all their efforts to fol-low the "normal" trajectory toward the prayer of sim-plicity, felt condemned to the meagre means available at the elementary level of the spiritual life. Cognet claims that this inferiority complex has hampered growth in prayer ever since. A realignment is therefore called for, Cognet insists. We must especially remind ourselves that the "traditional view" is relatively modern, and ruled by a particular view of prayer conceived to answer concrete problems of the VOLUME 29, Z970 4. ÷ 4. R. I. Ochs, sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS late Middle Ages and early Modern period. It was not always so. As far as we are in a position to reconstitute the prayer, of St. Augustine, for example, we must con-clude that he remained'discursive all his life, for all the contemplative aspects of his'prayer. This discursive form did not keep him from the heights of prayer. Nor did it keep Cardinal Berulle on an elementary level. Above all, we should emphasize that these psychological forms of one's prayer.are secondary, that it is one's relation to God in prayer which is fundamental. We should encourage a freer, more pragmatic attitude toward these forms, and arrange them less into stages. The psychological mani-festations of one's relationship to God are more a matter of temperament and style, and even of periods of one's life, which follow a rhythm back and forth from dis-cursive to "contemplative, rather than a set progression from one to the other. Even St. Teresa wrote abundant narratives about her prayer; and Jeanne de Chantal, after a period when she could not start the Our Father without falling into ecstasy, used discursive forms in the same way as the rest of us. Obviously, more is at stake in correcting this mis-understanding than freeing discursively oriented people from their inferiority complexes. (It is a bit hard to imagine vast numbers of people consciously suffering from the classical division into stages, in our contempo-rary scramble for any form of prayer which makes sense.) What is at stake is breaking open the category of dis-cursive prayer, giving scope for people to explore it with more confidence of finding something. At stake is healing the rift between theology and prayer in our own religious sensibility, learning to pray with our minds as well as our hearts (and theologize with our affectivity as well as our heads). There is no mindless prayer of the heart. Human affectivity is saturated with meaning. Closing the gap between spirituality and theology means breaking down prejudices built into the Christian prayer consciousness over generations, prejudices that thinking in prayer can only be idle curiosity, speculation about bloodless truths, asking impertinent questions pi-ous minds were never meant to ask. But there is the book of Job to make it clear that our minds were meant to ask. Surely a great curiosity about divine things is not foreign to prayer. Man was meant to argue with God. The Lord even demands that His people ask an explanation from him. The prophets had questions to put to the Lord who called them. And Mary answered the angel with the question: "How shall these things be?" Besides the prejudice against asking questions in prayer, there is another against using the imagination. Imagination and fantasy could well be what is required to bring heart and mind back together in prayer. Both theology and spirituality, as they are now, suffer from not being sufficiently tooted in the imagination. Discursive prayer does employ imagination and fantasy, but in a feeble, and, one might say, witless way. What is needed is a bolder use of fantasy.in prayer, a parallel to the bold-ness recommended above in asking questions of God. The Esalen Institute, for example, has uncovered re-markable abilities to fantasize in outwardly bland people. Its use of fantasy can teach us something. In guided fan-tasies, for instance, any blocks that occur are looked on as highly revelatory. A person embarking on a fantasy trip through his own body may suddenly find his body impenetrable, or, once inside, find he has no access to his heart. The important element to note here, for method, is that the person follows his fantasy, that there are things the person can and cannot do spontaneously in fantasy, because of their meaningful affective charge. This is much more concrete than our usual attempts to imagine our-selves present in a gospel scene where we try to elicit "appropriate" feelings and, when they are not forth-coming, dismiss our inability unreflectively as just an-other bad meditation. Closer to what masters like St. Ignatius must have had in mind is one case I am familiar with, where a man who had been unable to pray for years began a retreat by imagining himself at Bethlehem but found he could not enter the cave. Feelings of un-worthiness, and of simply not being welcome, blocked his fantasy at that point. He and his director interpreted this, not as an inability to "make the contemplation," but as a sign that he was praying; and he continued to imag-ine himself barred at the entrance to the cave in his repe-titions of the contemplation. After two days of this, dur-ing which the resentments and hopes of his whole past life welled up within him, he reported that he was in-vited to go in. The fantasy, with the block and its resolu-tion, was so much the man himself that it became the carrier for a real encounter and meant the turning point of his spiritual life. These short examples of how the use of mind and imag-ination might be broadened are, of course, not cited merely as .gimmicks, but hopefully as indications of a wider dimension and as reminders of how sluggishly we have used them in the past. Limitations of space preclude elaborating them more. Numerous qualifications would also be in order---discernment to avoid equating the in-terior world with God and our feelings with his Holy Spirit. But God does speak to us in our thoughts and. imaginations, or He cannot reach us at all. + ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, As a conclusion let me cite the words Robert Bolt gives to Thomas More in A Man/or All Seasons: "God made the angels to show him splendor--as he made animals [or innocence and plants for their simplicity. But Man he made to serve him wittily, in the tangle o[ his mind." The way through a tangle is discursive and dialectical. + + + R. 1. O~h,, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH T. FORGUE, F.S.C. Religious Life and the Educational ApostOlate Apparent to many engaged in the task of reformulation of the structures of the religious life is the inadequacy of mere personalism to remedy mechanical institutionalism. What seems to be necessary is an approach at once task oriented while incorporating the wide range of personal concerns. The following--an interpretation of the docu-ment The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration-- is offered as a model of just such an approach. What are the brothers? It might be said that they are men who, with lucid faith and burning zeal, serve the poor through Christian education, by establishing them-selves as a disciplined community. To be sure, there are many persons with lucid faith and burning zeal; many who serve the poor; many committed to Christian educa-tion; and there are many disciplined communities. The Brothers of the Christian Schools, I suggest, are a unique dynamic convergence of faith and zeal expressed through Christian education on behalf of the poor, facilitated and sustained through the mechanism and mystery of dis-ciplined community life. Christian Education in Service of the Poor In the first place there is the logical and historical pri- ÷ ority that leads to understanding the brothers' coming ÷ together as task oriented. To be sure, the quality of their + corporate lives must go beyond the task; but the task-- Christian education in the service of the poor--is the ini-tial and sustaining motivation for the community. To b~ concerned with an educational task is to partici- ¯ pate in the cumulative process of building the "new age of mankind." It is to foster the development of the noosphere, that network of human cohesion based on the twin dynamism of knowledge and love. To educate is to 527 Joseph T. Forgue, F.S.C., is a faculty member of Chris-tian Brothers Col-lege; Memphis, Tennessee ~8104. VOLUME 29, 1970 ¯ J, T, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS provoke and to evoke an ever increasing growth in criti-cal self-consciousness, to elicit insightful understanding of the structural realities of the world. Education that is in the service of the poor is educa-tion which recognizes that the thrust of history pulsates primarily among the poor. Education that is Christian is education which recognizes that all structures are on be-half of persons, aiding them toward personal and com-munal growth in responsible freedom. Christian educa-tion in service of the poor responds to those who suffer from the imperfections in society and understands that to realistically participate in its task, there must be real and co-ordinated contact with all strata of society for the sake of societal change. The educational task of the brothers, then, ought to be both comprehensive: urban, rural, suburban; and far-reaching: formal and informal. Urban education seeks to minister to the persons who suffer most immediately the brunt of the radical trans-formation in the human self-image caused by the tech-nologization of society. The historic thrust of the broth-ers adds the further dimension: a preference for the. poor of the inner city. Rural education seeks to foster the em-pathy and radicalization necessary for those not touched directly by urban awareness--and this to develop a sense of responsibility for the solutions to the problems of the city. The educational task in the suburbs--similar to the rural task---seeks to promote a sense of unity with, and responsibility for, the city. The result aimed at: the shat-tering of isolationist attitudes reinforced by provincial governmental boundaries. In order to reach all the people, the comprehensive ed-ucational task must be far-reaclfing. The brothers are called to operate through the academic framework of the school (formal education) and to include as an integral dimension of their work various educational endeavors that are outside the regular academic structure (informal education). Disciplined Community Just as historically John de La Salle was confronted by the educational task that was needed and in meeting that need discovered the need for a task force, so the contem-porary need of Christian education in service of the poor requires the existence of a disciplined community. The interpersonal dimensions of men risking their lives to live together in celibate community are not to be slighted, but such dimensions are not the reason for the brothers' coming together as an institute larger than one community. If such were the reason, the need for cor-porate structure apart from or beyond the "local group" would be unnecessary. Hence in describing the Brothers of the Christian Schools such considerations are omitted. They are presupposed as necessary for any human com-munity; they do not specify the uniqu.eness of the or-ganized religious life. The Brothers of the Christian Schools are disciplined-- that is, they have structured aspects of their living to-gether to hold up to themselves the continual demands oI the educational task. Traditionally such discipline has been called poverty, chastity, and obedience. Under the rubric of poverty, the brothers deny them-selves the personal use of individual salaries based on the market value o~ their work, pooling their regular moneys to manifest that they have staked their lives upon each other. Chastity refers to their decision.to live a non-family life style, symbolizing (and making really available) openness to personal mobility to insure meeting the fluc-tuating needs of the corporate task. Subjecting the indi-vidual direction of their careers to the approval of the corporation, the brothers under the rubric of obedience have decided that their individual efforts on behalf of mankind shall be united to, and co-ordinated with, the corporate task. To the traditional disciplines are added two others: one corporate: liturgy--the other personal: meditation. In liturgy the community agrees to meet in communal wor-ship. That is, it agrees to attempt to understand its re-sponse to the world in terms of meeting the demands of the Mysterious Unconditioned. The community under-stands its mission as the mission of the Church: mediating through the dynamic presence of the Spirit, the Father as revealed in Ghrist. Besides the communal necessity to come to grips with the presence of mystery, there is the demand for each to do so in his unique "being addressed" by God. Hence the need for meditation. The disciplined community is a community: which necessitates the decision to enter into regular, serious, personal dialogue on the part of whomever the demands of the corporate task have called to be comrades. There is the concern that comes of risking one's life upon the persons who share the taskmthe concern which enables the brothers to sustain their lives of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Further, the community is composed of brothers who wholeheartedly participate in the common work required when men live together, who foster the formal and in,or-real study and thought necessary for developing corporate self-understanding of their life in Christ, and who, fi-nally, simply let their hair down together in joyful cele-bration of their comradeship. VOLUME ~9 1970 ]. T. Forgue REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 550 Faith and Zeal The members of a disciplined community who are en-gaged in the corporate task of Christian education on be-half of the poor manifest the spirit of faith and zeal. The faith of such brothers is the free response they give to the experience of being addressed at the very core of their selfhood by the Absolutely Unconditioned--me-diated in our traditions by Christ. Further, such faith is global since it understands the free response to be neces-sarily comprehensive, relating to all men everywhere--a catholic faith. The faith of these brothers is futuric since they understand that their free and global response is to the demand that they live their lives on behalf of the fu-ture of men--to build the Body of Christ. The free, global, futuric faith has yet another dimen-sion: it is grateful. Such faith rests upon the gracious cumulative presence of God in history; it is a faith me-diated in time by the Church. Finally, the brothers rec-ognize their faithful response to be ambiguous, always under scrutiny, ever in need of perfection through the systematic prophetic questioning of its authenticity--a faith on the brink of unbelief. Just as the brothers' spirit of faith has five marks, so may the power of their zeal be sustained and characterized in a fivefold manner. The zeal of the brothers is manifested by their remain-ing articulate about the multiple dimensions of their professional field--education--and the specific academic discipline of their speciality. Since effective work demands coherence and specifica-tion the zeal of the brothers is characterized by planning. They must decide to operate on the corporate and indi-vidual level in response to the researched needs of the world as reflected in the specific areas they find them-selves. Such operation must be systematically efficient and highly co-ordinated. The brothers must be guided by the spirit of Romans 5:1,5, living the reality of zeal in terms of patience and persistence. They must suffer the presence of obstacles to their goals, take heart in the struggles they meet, and develop a sense of humor that will keep them from b-solutizing any aspect of their task. The brothers, giving every calorie of energy to their task, will live in the hope which is born of worthwhile effort. Finally, the zeal which sustains a group of Christian Brothers must develop a sensitivity to the real needs of the poor in their midst: that they might burn with a zeal that is salvific for men. Unknown to them will be de-structive fanaticism or self-aggrandizing complacency. Conclusion Such is a suggested model for understanding the broth-ers and their being-together. Unless religious operate out of some such corporate understanding; unless they ac-tually do act with an impact that is at once local, regional, national, and international; then there seems to be little justification for the life style they have chosen. + + ÷ vOLUME 29, 1970 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Community Life: Problematic and Some Reflections Charles Schleck, C.S.C., lives at 2300 Adeline Drive; Bur-lingame, California 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The problem of community life in religious institutes today is beset by many different factors both those of an environmental and ideological nature. There are first of all the conflicting currents of pressure with which man is faced in our contemporary societyA There is, for example, the problem of mobility, the fact that men can and do move around much more quickly than before, from one job to another, from one profession to another, from one place of residence to another. There is the consequent "need for change" which this very fact of mobility can easily cause. And very often connected with this, and fol-lowing from it, there is the experience of solitude or loneliness, plus the consequent uneasiness which this causes, not to say anxiety and anguish. There is the pro-found need for love and acceptance, and men are willing to do almost anything in order to get this. At the same time we find the presence of fear, the fear of being ab-sorbed by the impersonalism of our society, the fear of being rejected by others, fears which account for the rather bizarre and defensive behavior of so many, and fears which also account for the profound superficiality and veneerness of the relationships which persons do have--even those relationships which are entered into as an act of protest against other interrelationships. So often our relationships today are often marked by many words, and the doing of many things together, but by very little real personal communication or communion-- of the kind which leaves us free and which leaves others free as well. Thus, many persons in our society today live in real 1See K. Jaspers, Man in the Modern Age, Doubleday, 1957; Marcel, Man against Mass Society, Gateway, Chicago, 1962. solitude, and this throughout their entire lives. This is due at least in part to the sociological uprootedness in which they are almost forced to live. Solitude is never more painful than in many of our larger cities where many complain that they can never be alone, and yet, in reality, are almost always alone, that is, without any real communication or communion of a spiritually and truly satisfying nature. There are others in our society who are psychically incapable of being alone, or of recollecting themselves, or of becoming aware of their true sitnation in the world. Life outside a crowd is for them untolerable, so untolerable that they feel a kind of a pressure or com-pulsion to do everything that everyone else is doing, especially those persons or those groups with whom they identify socially. Thus their frequentation of the same bars, or theaters, or dubs or discotheques and so forth. It is not that they really desire these things necessarily, but they simply must do them because of their need to be "with people" and their fear of being alone. Yet for all this frequentation and for all these encounters, there is little or no real profound and personally satisfying com-munication or communion, whether there be the com-munication or communion of man with man, or that of man with God3 Another reason for the problematic in community life today is the advent and current cult of the many insights into man given to us in and through the existential and personalist philosophies of our time. These teach us that there are three involvements that characterize the exist-ence of modern man who is bodily-spiritual. There is first of all the involvement of man in the world. Even man's knowledge of God comes from the world in which he is rooted by reason of his bodiliness. He cannot even be thought of in his total reality unless the world is also perceived or thought of together with him. In fact, even his redemption or salvation is connected with the world, because man is redeemed as a being-in-the-world, or a being involved in the world. In fact, it is through man that the whole of creation shares in the redemption and salvation. For sanctity or holiness which is the fulfillment of man involves not merely the offer of Christ but the response of man as well. Again there is man's involvement in community. He is quite aware that he is dialogical, that he is not simply a being-in-the-world, but a being-in-the-world-with-others, that he is a listener as well as a speaker. He does not stand alone in society; he stands always in relation to others in society. While he possesses his own personal and indi-vidual natnre, and this in a unique way, still he cannot =See Ignace Lepp, The Ways o] Friendship, Macmillan, N.Y., 1966, pp. l,gff. ÷ ÷ ommunity " Li~e VOLUME 29. 1970 ~. A~ Schteck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS develop his nature or his person alone; he can do this only in and through the human community, that is, through other human persons. He sees his environment and his becoming and development, as intimately linked up with presence, the presences and influences of other persons, or with the interactivity of many interpersonal relationships. If man has selfhood, he is given this so that he may encounter other human persons who by their presences and interactivity will contribute to his whole-ness and personal fulfillment. No man is an island; and if his personal talents and capabilities are to unfold, if he is to become himself, completely this person which at first he is only potentially, if he is to become uniquely and personally creative, then the unique powers and gifts he has must be awakened .and stimulated to growth through the presence and interaction of others. And thirdly, there is man's involvement in history. There is not one moment of his life when man can be said to possess his own existence fully. What he is now, he became as a result of his past, and it is what he is now --including this past--that leads him on toward the fu-ture, a future to which he is even now already reaching out. Thus, every human life bears the stamp of outside forces, even though it is also internally being shaped by God and by the individual himself. Man's being and person are being shaped not bnly by the apparently autonomous forces of God and himself but also by the coexistential forces of his living moment, those of the hu-man community in which the forces of history are accu-mulated. While man's decisions are free, they' are not made in any kind of vacuum. They have their roots in the soil of human society and its history. And this means both the past and the future as well as the present, since the past and the future enter into our here and now de-cisions to a great extent, greater than many of us imagine. Man lives historically or in history, and he is involved very much in the ebb and flow of history. In short we find many currents impacting on man and his situation in the world today, currents that almost force themselves on us in spite of ourselves. There is the emphasis on personalism, the search for personal fulfill-ment or happiness, the need for independent and respon-sible action, the insistence on the primacy of the person over the society--at least when this is considered in its form of institution or organization--which is considered as being at the service of the person. There is the em-phasis on fellowship, on the sacramentality of our brother, on brotherhood in the sense of togetherness, collabora-tion, teamwork, complementarity, mutual enrichment, or completion, through interpersonal relationships and ac-tivity. There is the preoccupation of modern man with the "world" and the need for religious who are trying to be fully human and Christian to enter as completely as possible into all that is human and can be consecrated to God. The world is our world and we hold a serious responsibility in reference to what it is going to become, and we hold this in communion and cooperation with each other. Therefore, we must be involved in the world and in the human community--in order to become per-sons ourselves and in order to help shape the destiny of man in history, in order to help others become persons themselves.3 Still another source of the problematic regarding com-munity life in religion is the manifold way in which the expression "community" is understood by different per-sons today. As we find in so many other areas of human relationships, our problem often becomes a linguistic problem--we use the same word and yet we do not mean the same thing. The theologian or canonist will mean one thing by the word "community" whereas the sociologist or the psychologist might mean something quite distinct; and possibly the cultural anthropologist might mean something different from all these. And then again, dif-ferent theologians or different canonists, or different so-ciologists or different p?ychologists or different cultural anthropologists might mean different things by the same word. What the theologian refers to when he uses the word "community" within the sphere of his science is a group or corporate entity that we know and regard in and by and through the light of faith, or a community or group that is established and built on a faith vision of one kind or another. What the canonist will mean by the word "community" is a group of persons that lives together following certain norms or laws established by the com-petent authority empowered to establish those rules and regulations. Yet a psychologist or a sociologist would be speaking of something entirely other, of a group of per-sons or an association of persons viewed according to the norms and principles of the behavioral science which they represent. For a good number of psychologists, the word "commu-nity" would refer to a group of persons whose quality and depth of interpersonal relationships would establish them in some kind of communion of unity, personal unity or unity and communion of persons. Thus, they would stress the sacredness of the person, his need to be ful-filled within an expansive and free community. They would stress that persons are ends in themselves, im-portant for who they are as well as and even more so 8See Otto Semmelroth, S.J., The Church and Christian Belie], Deus Books, Paulist Press, N.Y., 1966, pp. 81-3. + + + Community Life VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ RENEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~536 than for what they do. They would stress that a diversity of works and personal talents is a good thing in a group, precisely because this variety evokes the actualization of the full range of the human potential which exists within the group and because it also creates the possibility for adaptive changes within the group enriching its total view and being and action. They would also stress the fact that the insights of the person-members serve the community, that personhood is a process, a reality that is not achieved simply in virtue of existing together, but rather by personal exchanges, the kind that imply ac-ceptance of change within the persons "and also a realistic knowledge and acknowledgment of human fallibility. They would emphasize that self-revelation and accept-ance of others, far from working to the destruction of the unity of the group, enhance both the person and the group or community as well. In fact it is these very things that provide the basis for continuing growth in under-standing and love on the part of the various members of the group. The sociologist would be concerned with community within the framework of group formation and operation. He might tend to emphasize the professional and the adult relationships of the members and tend to look at the group in terms of its ability to carry out goals and ob-jectives with some kind of e~ciency. Or he would tend to emphasize or look at a community as a social group phenomenon which identified or did not identify with this or that value system. For example, among the many distinctions which sociologists have made to clarify the social reality of "community" was the introduction of the notions of "gemeinschaft" and "gesellschaft." The first term refers to a community in the sense of a communal collectivity based on diffuse emotional attachments exist-ing between the members. The second term refers to a communal collectivity that rests primarily on the con-scious choice of specific objectives on the part of the membership. This division might approximate what we often call a division of community into a community as home, and a community as service organization. The sociologist is often far more interested in the second kind of "community" than in the first, that is, in the associational community or "gesellschaft" than in the emotional community or "gemeinschaft." Affective rela-tionships are and will indeed remain important to the sociologist, but he does not see them as constituting the totality of human existence, that if they did, they would soon lead a community to becoming dysfunctional or non-functioning, reduced to a kind of love-in experience or amateur group therapy unit rather than an adult associa-tional group having specific objectives. He would see that in some circumstances the affective relationslfips and the constant search for these on the part of a group would simply tend to desu'oy effective performance on the part of the group and to render their associational objectives impossible or difficult to achieve. He would stress that there should be organic solidarity in the membership of the group, and this such that there would be more than mere juxtaposition, but rather an interdependent divi-sion of labor, the key to which would be not that diversity in which each part goes its own way, but that kind of diversity in which each part is deeply concerned with meaningful exchange and for the good of each part, but for this good in reference to the good of the whole. The sociologist is very much concerned with preserving the sovereign demands of the common good together with the dignity of the person. To employ a rather practical example: A sociologist would see that in the case of liturgical experimentation by different groups, this should be concerned with the functional or service con-tributions which this group is making to the larger whole, and not with its own personal wishes or the indi-vidual affective relationships which exist ~znong the cele-brating group. He could easily accept the principle of a pluralistic liturgy based on the notion of vocation or profession, in which each societal role and its contribu-tion to the life of the totality would permit diversity and " yet stress organic solidarity, for example, a Mass for pro-fessionals, for factory workers, and so forth. But he would also tend to consider that it is a fruitless task on the part of liturgists in their attempt to achieve togetherness in the liturgy to try to define their problem in terms of supernatural charity becoming translated into human emotion. A person need not feel affection for another in order to have charity toward this other person, nor need charity always express itself in a social relationship which is defined as affective. Christian love may impel a man to lend a helping hand to another, but this is quite an-other phenomenon than that of holding hands for the sake of holding hands. Though the temptation to unite these two forms or expressions is very great by reason of an appealing and yet rather false idealism, liturgical forms must respect the fact that this equation is fre-quently impossible. The good Samaritan did not form an I-Thou relationship with the man who fell in with thieves, at least if we accept this according to the terms of some psychologists. He bandaged his wounds, put him on his pack-animal, took him to an inn and gave the inn-keeper money to cover the expenses, and went on his way.4 'See R. Potvin, "The Liturgical Community: Sociological Ap-praisal," in Experiments in Community, Liturgical Conference, ÷ 4- Community Li]e VOLUI~IE 2% 1970 4. To further complicate the linguistic problem or the problem of and in communication, the word "apostolic" has also undergone an evolution in meaning. In the New Testament it involved two elements: (1) a kind of juridi-cal element, that is, a commissioning by Christ for some form of leadership in the Church; and (2) a kind of charismatic element, that is, a vision or experience of the risen Lord. The word "apostle" and its corresponding adjective were more or less limited or concentrated on a certain well-defined group of persons in the first genera-tion of Christian history. Gradually, however, the word took on other meanings. It referred to what could be traced back to the Apostles, for example, their writings, their doctrines, their traditions, and so forth. It was later on extended to refer to the Roman See, the Roman Pon-tiff, and finally to the Roman Catholic Church described as the "apostolic Church." Later on in the Middle Ages the word "apostolic" was used to describe a life or life style that was conformable with that instituted by the Apostles of the primitive Church. Thus the monks were Wash. D.C., 1968, pp. 90-3. "Many people use the word community to imply a group welded together by affective bonds, a love-in whereby emotional attachments are generated and maintained. Christian community and the cultic symbols which surround the eucharistic feast should not be reduced to a notion of community with affective overtones . It is unfortunate that the word com-munity and family should be abused as much as they are. The problem is not simply one of definition since the meaning of the words can and does differ in various contexts. The confusion re-sides in the arbitrary conjunction of the elements of one meaning with those of another, and in not realising that they are often mutually exclusive. The end result is frequently little else than stagnant unrealism which precludes the understanding of the social and spiritual realities which are being discussed. Thus the totality of the community of God's people is not a community in the strict sense of the word. Its unity is not the unity of affective homogeneity. It is not emotional attachment nor that of primary, deep, total relationships between people. It is not the unity which arises from the sharing of common territory--all contemporary definitions of community. These exist within the community of the faithful, but they are not that community, nor can their characteristics be at-tributed to it as such. In fact we are in the secular city of God and we have moved from a tribal unity with its kin-like bonds to the unity of the technopolis. As Harvey Cox suggests, there is another alternative to Buber's dichotomy between an I-It relationship and the I-Thou encounter. It is the I-You relationship which is at the base of the secular city. The unity which is characteristic of the contemporary world is a functional unity of diversity whereby people are of service to each other, and one which can be devoid of affecfive connotations, which at times must be devoid of such personal overtones if the common welfare and the 'interests of our fellow men' are to be achieved. Sociologists would say that such unity is based primarily on associational and not communal rela-tionships. In other words, it is not necessary that the baker know personally and like the plumber for the two to be of service to each other. It is even conceivable that if they did their mutnal service might be less efficient." thought to be living an apostolic life by reason of their practice of the common life and preaching. And they were said to be living in conformity with the first community in Jerusalem. While it is true that these elements--com-mon life and the ministry of preaching--were found in diverse ways in different groups, so long as these two ele-ments were in some way present, the group was said to be living the apostolic life. In the sixteenth century the word was again slightly modified. It began to refer to those persons or groups of persons who were sent by the Church to preach the gospel and to live or practice the virtues which the fulfillment of mission entailed. It was not so much a question of their imitating the life of the Apostles, but rather of participat-ing or sharing in their mission. Even semi-cloistered nuns spoke of themselves as having the "apostolic" spirit, cause they participated in the spirit of the apostolic mis-sion, namely, the redemption of mankind. Finally, the word "apostolic" received another altera-tion in recent times. With the advent of Catholic Action, the laity was said to have an "apostolic vocation." It would seem to be this use of the word "apostolic" that brought into being its highly "quantitative" aspect. Some persons were said to be more apostolic than others. Some works were said to be more apostolic than others. And finally some groups and' even religious institutes were said to be more or less apostolic than others depending upon the degree to which they engaged in external works. Under Plus XII an attempt was made to correct some of the inadequate implications of such a use of the word. He spoke of completely enclosed communities as leading a life that was essentially and wholly "apostolic." Thus the word "apostolic" would seem to admit of several essential elements, one ontological--a life that is con-nected with the inner life of the Church, with the life of agape or charity; and the other phenomenological--the various concrete ways or expressions in which the life of agape or charity can be expressed and mediated both in being and operation by persons, or groups, or even re-ligious communities. While we should be able to distin-guish one or other element in the word "apostolic," it would seem to be the wiser thing not to dissociate them from one anothbr, or dichotomize them in our practical attitudes. This could easily give rise to a triumphalism of one kind or another, contemplative or active, and both of these could simply establish more snob clubs in a Church where we already have enough. This linguistic problem or problem in communica-tion is not limited to the area of community. We find it existing in many other areas today. In regard to the area of family planning, for example, during the years in 4- 4- 4. Community lilt VO~UM~ ~, ;~o C. d. $chleck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~40 which the papal commission met, it was quite obvious that there were problems, and serious ones, involving the use of language and words and expressions. Words used were the same, but the ~neanings and emphases, the cate-gories and selective placement of values connected with these words, were extremely diverse.5 This linguistic problem is a real problem. And it would seem to me that because we do not spell out the exact and rather well-defined limited idea or meaning which we have in using the word "community" we come to the rather quick and open conflict concerning the idea of "community" which we experience today. An approach, for example, that would be primarily sociological would easily emphasize an aspect of community or group asso-ciation that is the object of the science of sociology, and it would tend to emphasize the tools and instruments which this behavioral science normally employs. The same would be true if a psychologist Were to approach the same problem. Yet the theological dimensions of community, and the theological presuppositions of com-munity life within a religiously motivated group of per-sons, or a group which faces community with the back-ground of a faith vision, for example, sin-redemption, the ambiguity of man in the world, the manifold dimen-sions of the evangelical counsels, and so forth, might be ignored, even perhaps purposely or intentionally; and this, not because of any hostility toward these dimensions on the part of the experts involved, but simply because these dimensions might not be the specific area of con-cern or competence of a psychologist or sociologist. Yet the practical impact of this presentation could bring about a rather different net result than would be proper or correct; it might bring about a primacy of an entirely different value system as far as "community life in a re-ligiously motivated and assembled group" than should really be the case. The fault would not lie with the sciences or the experts in question, if and when they operate within the limited and specific sphere of their competence, but in the imperialistic attempt on the part of any one of them to make itself or himself supreme where and when it or he is not supreme. The same thing would be true in the case of the Scripture scholar or theologian if they attempted to pronounce on some topic or point which was a point of these sciences and not neces-sarily that of revelation. Thus, there are many complexities within the total understanding of "community life in religion," many of which are perhaps approached much too facilely and ~ See Donald N. Barrett, "The Sociology of Religion: Science and Action" in Sociological Analysis, Winter, 1967, pp. 177-8. without much depth of insight as to the real subtleties of the problem. There are theological or revealed dimen-sions of the idea of "community" which would show that the call to community is not really something special in the sense of unique to religious, such that only they are called to express this reality. All Christians are called to express it, even though not all are called to express it within the framework of associations such as religious are called to be. Moreover, this Christian approach or re-vealed approach to community would show that the Christian ethic gives to already existing human relation-ships new dimensions and exigencies by transforming them through a new specifically Christian basis: the life of the Pneuma of Christ. Secondly, there are other dimensions besides the re-vealed one. There are the behavioral dimensions men-tioned above, sociological, psychological, cultural, and so forth. And finally, there are juridical dimensions in-volved in the notion of "community," that is, certain legal requirements or dimensions established by the agency which gives a group its status, public or civil or ecclesial. In the case of religious communities of public vows, we are told that they are by definition stable forms of life, or stable life styles providing their membership with an organized way of living the evangelical counsels. And thus it is quite reasonable to expect that there would be in their case juridical dimensions to establish and as-sure this stability. This note is referred to in the Per[ectae caritatis and in the sixth chapter of Lumen gentium as well as in Ecclesiae sanctae. By reason of the religious community's being a public and official organ of the Church-sacrament, the hierarchical element of the Church gives it something of the incarnational structure and composition which the Church itself was given by Christ. It is for this reason that the hierarchical element of the Church approves not merely the soul or the spirit dimen-sion of a religious community's life style, but also the fundamental delineations of its body expression or its bodiliness--this for reasons of distinction, and comple-mentarity, organic solidarity, and related identity. The reasonableness of this juridical dimension for publicly approved religious institutes or communities does not mean that the counsels or a life dedicated to Christian service cannot be lived outside such a framework, or within a community or association of persons having no official or public approbation. Such groups have always existed in the Church historically, either by choice of the persons themselves who did not want any such approba-tion for one or other reason; or by choice of the approv-ing agency or arm, estimating that such a group or groups 4. 4, 4- Community Lite VOLUME Zg, 1970 541 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS do not have that degree of stability which they feel war-rants public approbation, at least for the time being.B These are only some of the factors involved in the problem of community and in the problem of man in community, of man looked at in the totality of his personality and condition. It is a problem that will never see any completion or perfectly satisfactory solution. But it would seem to the present writer that many of the problems or at least some of them which religious com-munities are facing today in their desire for renewal could better be resolved by a more clear-cut understand-ing of just what the problem is, or better, just where the sources of problematic lie. Then there must be a re-assertion of certain ideas, especially those of a theological nature, which are involved in the establishment of a community that gathers its members together for religious motives or purposes, those revealed within the Scriptures. In the expression "religious community" the adjective "religious" is just as important as the adjective "rational" in the expression "rational animal." And while it is true that this adjective does not describe all the dimensions and complexities involved in those associations of persons which we call religious institutes or communities, it does point to that dimension which distinguishes these kinds of associations from other kinds not based primarily on religious motives; Consequently, in the remainder of o This does not mean that one may not question the advisability of certain decisions regarding disciplinary and other such matters, for example, the current questioning regarding the legally im-posed uniform pattern for all apostolic institutes. Seeking a greater flexibility in the new legislation for the application of the particu-lar charisms of each institute is one thing; operating as if this were already an accomplished fact, without asking the permission to ex-periment contrary to the Code where this is requested by the compe-tent authority, and thereby facing authority with a fair accompli is quite another. If modern man claims to be so mature, it would seem that the presence of courtesy should be more present today than before. At times one wonders whether this is true. ~ In one of his weekly addresses the pope referred to one of the problems of our times as the phenomenon of anthropocentric reli-gion: "Religion must be by its very nature theocentric, oriented toward God as its first beginning and its final end. And after that toward man, considered, sought after, loved in terms of his divine derivation and of the relationships and duties which spring from such a derivation . To give in religion preeminence of humani-tarian tendencies brings on the danger of transforming theology into sociology, and of forgetting the basic hierarchy of beings and values. I am the Lord your God, and Christ teaches: You shall love the Lord your God. This is the greatest and the first command-ment . It should not be forgotten that to let sociological interest prevail over the properly theological interest can generate another dangerous difficulty, that of adopting the Church's doctrine to hu-man criteria, thus putting off the intangible criteria of revelation and the official ecclesiastical magisterium" (Address of July 10, 1968, Documentary News Service, Oct. 28, 1968). this article I would like to consider some oI the following areas: the nature of community life in religion, its pur-poses, and its ability to be expressed in different ways. The Nature of Community Life in Religion The early Church looked upon its community life as the expression or actualization of the commandment of Jesus--"That they may be one as you Father in me and I in you, that they may be (one) in us." s The very nature of community life in religion demands not just a juxta-position or lining up of persons; nor does it refer merely to a group that has come together for professional serv-ices of teaching or health care or social work of one kind or another. Nor does it refer to a group of merely naturally compatible personalities, or to persons who are forced to live together by reason of some kind of juridical or legal system of incorporation. It implies, rather, a community that has for its model and image the mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity. There we find per-fect oneness and perfect relationship, and yet also, perfect distinction--all of which are essential to constitute their mystery and meaning. The theological notion of community life is aimed at far more than the establishment of a herd mentality, or a common status in reference to material goods, "or to a rule or to certain visible interpersonal relationships estab-lished on certain natural grounds, even though these are in no wise to be excluded. It implies far more than mere interest groups living together, such as teachers or nurses or social workers, even though any one or several of these aspects might be found in community living, at least to some extent. Community life in religion demands that the members of the community live with each other in religion as the Father lives in community of life with His Son and with the Holy Spirit. It asks that the mem-bets of the group show clearly that the charactoe or~sucally Christian commandment of fraternal ~hariotry agape which is the end of the New Law reflects" or corresponds with the characteristic dogma of our Cl~ristian faith, the mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity. For a religious com-munity is one that is constituted or created by agape, in agape, and for agape. And agape is God's love shared in or participated in by men, and becoming operative in reference to other men. Agape is intimacy with God and with other men as God would love them Himself. It sur-passes purely natural sympathies, and dominating or in-stinctive antipathies, making us see other men as sons of God, sharing the divine good with ns and called to share in the society of the elect with ourselves. Agape makes us "Jn 17:20-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Lile VOLUME 2% 54~ ÷ + + C. A. $chleck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS regard the next person not as a stranger but as our brother, as part of ourselves, as one who is united to us by divine life and whose good we desire as we do our own, good. The Purposes o[ Community Life in Religion Coming to the purposes of community life in religion and viewing them within the framework of revelation, we find that there are a number of objectives which it tries to realize. Not all of these are equal, nor are they all found in exactly the same way .in different religious institutes. Briefly they would seem to be reducible to the. following: liberating or ascetical, charismatic, and apos-tolic. The Liberating or Ascetical Dimension The liberating dimension of community life in religion is quite evident even after only a short experience of living with others. We are quite aware that even in spite of ourselves, it does strip us of much disordered self-love which is at the root of all sin. It provides us and almost forces us to practice the various expressions of real agape, real faith, and real hope in its daily human expressions: Love is patient, love is kind, love is eager but never boast-ful or conceited; love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to ex-cuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.9 The common life, in all its demands, acts as a marvelous means for self-giving and opening oneself more and more to and onto others. For most religious it is in practice the most constant occasion they have for personality build-ing, for self-denial, and self- and social-integration that lies at their disposal within the religious life. And this is true not merely in its domestic aspects, that is, in sharing work in the house, or recreation, of life within the frame-work of the religious residence, and common prayer in its various forms, but also in its service aspect, that is, in the common enterprise of the group.10 Community life in religion asks for collaboration with others in an operational community, such as a school or hospital or possibly a more loosely structured apostolate, such as social work. It usually involves a community in which the members have to fit together for a common work. This often means doing some things that one does not always like doing. It also involves that one be pre-pared to face the likelihood that often there may not be the exact kinds of diversions, distractions, ~'elaxations, and so forth that one would especially like. There are ~ I Cor 14:4ff. 1°See J. Coventry, S.J., in Religious Formation, Blackfriars, 1963, "Modern Individualism and Comxnunity Life," p. 37. reasons for this, other values which the community is at-tempting to give witness to: for example, eschatological values, Christological values, ascetical values, ecclesial values, those which are in keeping with the community's total mission within the Church. This ascetical or liberating aspect of community life forms part of the community's witness to the death-resur-rection mystery of the Lord. It witnesses to the fact that persons of different backgrounds, training, intellectual and social capabilities, can still live in Unity and commu-nion, in fact are called to li#e in unity and communion, and this in Christ and through Him, not primarily be-cause of mutual compatibility, but because they are called by the same agape and molded by the same agape. Con-sequently, religious are not entirely free---eVen though they freely accept this limitation of their freedom with the frustrations that this is inevitably going to mean--to reshape or arbitrarily modify their situations, seeking out the most congenial possible local community or select circle of collaborators. Such an approach to community life in religion is like matching blood types and would be just about as evangelical and gospel-motivated. Now in saying this I do not wish to give the impression that some of the attempts being made to establish smaller living groups is opposed to the gospel. It can be a good thing, especially when the motives are very much in keep-ing with the gospel values, a better image of poverty, a better spirit of personal and communal prayer, in short, if the motives are primarily for the establishment of a better religious atmosphere, and this not merely as a kind of an unfounded dream, but as a realistic probabil-ity. Moreover, such a group could provide for a better. sense of belonging. But here we must question the forma-tion of small fraternities among religious which are based primarily and almost exclusively on other values, socio-logical and psychological. The writer would still wager an educated guess that ev

Issue 35.6 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; ,,,,llllili,,,~,iililli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited by faculty members of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1976 Volume 35 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVXEW yon RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REvmw voa RELICIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at $4th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Theological Reflection Donald J. Keefe, S.J. Father Keefe, on the faculty of the Department of Theological Studies; St. Louis University; St. Louis, MO 63103, has been a frequent reviewer in these pages. Presently he is on sabbatical leave and is residing in the Jesuit Community; Fordham Univer-sity; Bronx, NY 10458. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church, co-authored by Andrew Greeley, William McCready and Kathleen McCourt (Sheed and Ward, 1976) has attained a prominence in religious publication ,which is perhaps comparable to that of Hans~ Kiing's In[allible? An Inquiry. Their common success fol-lows a common formula: each purports to present a scholarly basis for a radical criticism of the institutional Church. Each is underwritten by a prominent figure in the Catholic world, Consequently, each has~a political significance which is independent of the intrinsic merits of its critique. Each has been given instant notoriety in th.e popular press and each, in its fashion, is symptomatic of what seems to be a pervasive dissatisfaction within Cath-olic academic circles regarding what are felt to be inappropriate responses of the Church to the contemporary world. Finally, each reflects a similar impatience with the "official" ecclesiology, one which understands the Church as "the sacramental sign of the Kingdom of God: KiJng's rejection of this ecclesiology, long since explicitl does not concern us here. Rather we are coficerned with the ecclesiology implicit in Catholic Schools in a De- ,clining Church, particularly insofar as this bears upon Greeley's judgment that the encyclical,.Humanae Vitae, is simply a disaster. Greeley's salient theological conclusion is that, by reason of a funda-mental failure in communication, the official Church, though, revivified by the reforms of Vatican II, has, in the publication of Humanae Vitae, entered 801 802 / Review ]or Religious,: Volume 35, 1976/6 upon a suicidal rejection of 'its own reality-in-history by rejecting the morality of artificial contraception; and this despite the fact that~ the greater part of the Catholi6 people find no impropriety in such practices. Certain normative presuppositions undergird Greeley's conclusion: .1 ) The Catholic Church is as fit a subject for sociological analysis as any other social .entity. It is quite as permeable to this kind of scrutiny'as, for example, would be the Democratic Party. 2) The actual meaning of events, as these occur in the history of the Church, is that meaning which this kind of investigation reveals. Thus, for example, an event is "disastrous" when its effects, as measured by sociolog-ical criteria, are found to be destructive. These presuppositions are merely expressions of the demand for auton-omy which every intellectual inquiry, regardless of its object, makes as a matter of course. Every science is in search of the unity of truth. The syn-thetic or conclusion-reaching aspect of any science is no more than an expression of confidence in the power of its own method to integrate into a comprehensive understanding all the scattered data which its inquiry un-covers. There.is a kind of arrogance associated with any disciplined attempt to understand, for it supposes an ability to transcend, to dominate, ultimately to comprehend its object. Such intellectual self-sufficiency at a naive level raises no particular theological difficulties. But when it is given sophisticated expression as a method O[ knowledge, it can become an ideology, one which would pretend to offer a comprehensive criterion of truth and reality that would be analogous to, and necessarily competitive with the Christian faith itself. Such methodologies in fact become ideological when they refuse to admit the existence of any truth, of any reality beyond their grasp. They become ideological when they place prior limits upon-what can be "known," upon what can be "true." Over the centuries of the Church's history, such ideological convictions have continually troubled the faith of its community. Such convictions have been woven out of the tangled threads of rabbinical Judaism, of the Medi-terranean mystery religions, of the He~llenistic philogophies which were contemporaneous with the early Church. With the dawn of the Middle Ages, the first introduction of Aristotle)~ logic prbvided a new challenge to the faith. In the late Renaissance, there was a c~omparableenthu~iasm for yet another powerful intellectual resource: "scientific method," with its ac-companying mathematics, began to be exalted as the ~nique mode of .access to certitude. By the end o~ the eighteenth century, this confidence had waned. The Romantic period then found in the humanistic study of history and in nascent sociology a new key to the human enigma. Truth is no longer to be r~garded as something "out there." Rather it is seen as the proper Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 1~03 achievement of human societies in history--a history which is fundamentally in human hands, open to human analysis and exhaustive comprehension. This, too, fed the formation of ideologies. Common to all such ways of knowing iS the problem of their "conver-sion." The value ofthese works of human intelligence is enormous, in-dispensable. How can they be conformed to the Catholic faith, enter into a Catholic intellectuality? The claim that they cannot be. so conformed is still heard, both from those who too much love and from those who too much fear the new learning. For those who love too much, such a conversion would put an end to the "autonomy of science." For those who "too much fear," such a conVersion would end by relativizing the faith. Perhaps the simplest reply to such claims is to point out their futility. The objection that the "conversion" of an otherwise autonomous method of scientific inquiry would write finis to its independence rests upon an outdated notion of scientific method, the philosophical roots of which were undercut by Kant.~The intrinsic dilemmas of this method were demon-strated half a century ago by Heisenberg's0principle of indetermination. In point of fact, Descartes' dream of a universal science remains a dream, a dream tied to a time now remote. In our day, it survives only as an ideology of a peculiarly old-fashioned sort, kept alive' largely by social engineers' such as B. F. Skinner with his form of determinism. In such hands, this ideology becomes a kind of salvation, scheme by which the unpredictability, the enigmatic character of historical humanity is remedied by the elimina-tion of those human attributes which permit the emergence of historical' novelty: freedom and personal responsibility. The reduction of humanity to fungible integers thus finally makes possible a mathematically accurate calculus and control of the human. Such an ideology is really nothing more than eighteenth-century,Enlight-enment optimism, which wasn't even taken seriously by its own proponents. They wouldn't dream of submitting themselves to this~kind of salvation-scheme. Yet it is precisely in the. proliferation of ~such salvation-schemes that there comes,to be most clearly evident scientific method's need for a radication in a faith which transcends it. On the other hand, the point of view we indicated above as that which fears the relativizing of faith by any application to it of a free inquiry has its exemplars in the long line of rigofists who have always been present in the,Church. First there were the Judaizers of whom Paul complains. There was Marcion in the next century, Tertullian in the third. There have been the ever-present battalions of "hypertraditionalists," those who fear that a free future must :be open to~ sin and corruption, and would, on that account, foreclose the.History of Salvation in the name of salvation itself, 'quite as would their counterparts, the social, engineers. But their historical pessimism is the less excusable because the faith they are zealous to defend 804 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 is precisely a faith in the Lord of History whose creation is good and whose presence in. the world makes its history to be salvific. It is then as illusory for the scientist to fear the conversion of his methodology to the service of the Catholic faith as it is perverse for the committed Cathblic unduly to°fear the scientific inquiry which such a .con-version would unleash. Still, the mutuality of science and. of the Catholic faith is easier to envisage than it is to achieve. While the sunny confidence in a salvation-to- be-wrought-by-reason has waned somewhat since the age of optimism that was' ended in the blo~d,soaked fields at Verdun and. the Somme in World War ~, the practitioners of the social sciences, however mindful they ¯ be of the oft-cited perils of "Helleriization," still tend, to be less than troubled by the demonic potential of~their own saeculum, by the resistance of their own cultural commonplace--scientific method t6 conVersion. Not a little of this resistance is the fruit of the recognition by Vatican II that the world is not alienated from the concerns of the Church. Indeed, the autonomy of the secular in its own realm is there explicitly stated, bring-ing with it the enfranchisement of the scholar to do his work without con-cern for received opinions among churchme.n in regard to matters which are properly within his province. In Vatican II, historical and social re-search were liberated from all pious dishonesty. Catholic confidence in the ultimate goodness of fallen historicity required no less. " Since that time, Catholics have become accustomed, as they were not before the Council, to a view of an historical Church "with warts on." For many, perhaps for most,~ this new outlook was traumatic. Accustomed hitherto to think of the Church in terms of such attributes as militancy, witness, inerrancy, historical unity and the like, they were suddenly con-fronted by the countering of these commonplaces with other assertions of the Church's' documented cowardliness, conformism, error, division and so on. Indeed, these wer, e not seldom presented as conclusive refutations of the traditional faith in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church: More, and worse, these charges had a kind of ecclesial warrant--the "spirit of Vatican II." This spirit more and more often found expression in terms, of an active antagonism to the Catholic past. In particular, the validity of tradition and of the authority of the Church were challenged in the heretofore sacrosanct realm of sexuality. In this realm scarcely any element of the Church's faith or practice was without its learned opposition. In its opposition, argument rested not on historical research--for the.con-stancy of the moral tradition was quite clear--but upon what was con-sidered to be "the religious insignificance" of sexuality. From the vantage point of modern psychology and sociology, Catholic emphasis upon the sacramentality of sex, which found expression in the condemnation of certain sexual practices as being immoral, in the prohibition of clerical marriage, Catholic Schools in a Declining Church." A Reflection / 805 and of the ordination of women, was viewed as simply mistaken. Sociology and psychology were thought to provide a sufficient explanation for the origin of these, rules and 'condemmitions, while at the same time, these same disciplines,seemedzunable to find any present justification for con-tinuing such norms. Underlying such. conclusions was the presupposition that "whatever can be given a secular explanation must be so explained." Of course, this is a denial of the sacramental'significance of historical humanity. It represents a retrogression to thht .primitive mentality which .identifies religion~ with magic. In this' way,~, all holiness, all religious value~in the everyday, non-marvelous, commonplace human life in the world comes to be ignored. In such a circumstance, the Church has nothing to say to this~world; for the Church is seen to exist ,only~to provide :illusion for a dwindling clientele. Whoever would challenge the Churchqn such terms really cannot expect a heating' .The Church must~refuse the postulates of.iany science-become-idei~ logy. (3riticis .ms of the Church based on the validity-of such postulates do not bear upon reality. ,They leave .no common ground fore discussion. The authenticity of the Church's teaching and practice does not--and can~ notqwait upon certification from any secular tribunal. Greeley, oin his critique, like Kting, fo~-gets ,this, ~though not to, the point of the latter's explicit denial of the Church's sacramental and causal' relationship to the fulfilled Kingdom of God., Rather, Greeley~ simply does not advert to it. Still, the net effect'is the same.~When the Church is treated for purposes of the laboratory as' merely*an empirical datum, its sacramental character is ignored. The laboratory is not concerned with the truth and effectiveness of a sacramental sign. Yet the Chur~h,~can be understooddn her reality only insofar as he'r history is aqknowledged to, be the~uniquely effective sacra-mental instrument through which humanity, regardless of its historical di-versity, its contention and sin, is~ ultimately redeemed from its fallenness and raised to fulfillment by the.Lord of History.°tf this sacramental reality is not admitted at the outset, the,~Church becomes something debatable, a matter for dispute,, bringing us back to the format of what is, .after all, an obsolete apologetic: a profitless debate over the Church"s worthiness and/or unworthiness. In Catholic'. Schools in a De'clining Church, the worthiness/ finworthiness preoccupation is' mdni[est: the-Church-as-worthy is~,seen to be the-Church-as-popular. ,: ¯ ~- And yet, if it qs right to be wary of an ecclesiology which w~ould, sub-mit the Church to some .sup'erior academic wisdom, it would be quite an-other thing to conclude that the., Church need not respond .to criticisms which the academy cannot but, offer it. Conversation _between the two, however, can take place only where there is a foreswearing of,funda-mentalism On the one hand_and of doctrinaire scientism on the other. Only thus could there, come" into being a common universe of discourse. Necessarily~,ifivolved in this is a recognition by the Church that its doc- 806 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 trine is given historical utterance for the sake of beginning new discussion quite as much as for the sake of punctuating an antecedent one. Necessarily involved is a recognition by the scientist that, when .all his data are collated, the inferences they support must be_ framed as questions, and as problems, not as doctrine in competition with the faith. It is by no means easy to preserve the conditions for such an exchange. Good will is, only the first of these. Ultimately the demand of such condi-tions is met by the recognition of what is actually taking place in such_a conversatibn. It represents an interchange between the faith of the Church and the questing reason of its members '(,which is called theology). It repre-sents the transformation of an otherwise purely secular scientific interest, a transformation imperated by its application to the Revelation.which is given in Christ.In this application, a given discipline accepts as the object of its inquiry a reality whose truth cannot be utterly controlled by its methodology, which it can only approach in a posture which is fundamentally one of worship. When .this attitude of worship fails, the exaggerated claim bf autonomy is thereby taken up again, and the transcendence~ of the Church's truth, of its faith, is rejected out of hand for the sake of "truly scientific objectivity." When such a rejection is misunderstood by'th~ Catholic faithful, when it is presumed to be normative for the scholarly enterprise, the opposite extreme becomes unavoidable: the sacramental holiness of the world and the historical character of the worship of the Church are equally sup: pressed. And the conversation which was originally ambitioned disintegrates into mutual recrimination. The changes rung on this theme are indefinitely numerous. In sum,. they preface and. finally constitute an aversion for the historical faith of the Catholic community in favor of those alternatives whose name is legion. All of this has been remarked sufficiently over the centuries. In the abstract, it is easy enough to see the need for a mutuality between Church and academy, but the realization of such a mutuality is continually im-peded byo the fallenness which mars us all. We are, all and. always in the sway of the~emptation to revert to a pessimistic status quo ante in terms of which the revealed compatibility of God and man, of the Church and the world; of faith and reason can be shown to be absurd, a fiction that is unworthy of man and derisory of God. Thisois a universal failing: It is no more characteristic of the academy than 'of the cloister, of the chancery than of the market. In either case, reductively we are seeking to denature God's good creation by rationalizing and objectifying its sacramental truth and unity.~By such devices we frag-ment our world: We trivialize and compartmentalize our world into isolated bits. And this becomes prelude for dismissing from our lives~ actual his-torical meaning, its sacramentality, the holiness of its totality. Whether done in the name of an ecclesial or a secular piety, what is Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 807 achieved is a flight from the threatening mystery of our historical existence, from our need to be sustained in it by the Lord of History, and from our share in the crucifixion by which it is redeemed. Thus is worked out some very bad theolggy--and not only by theologians, but by anyone who pre-scinds, from the sacramental structure of reality for the sake of judging reality. A sociological examination 6f the Church simply cannot avoid at least an implicit theological component. If, .supposing it to have been clearly affirmed, an equation were to be drawn between the Catholic Church and the Aristotelian "perfect society," an explicit ecclesiology--however wrong-headed--- necessarily follows. If, on the other hand, one omits any definition of the Church, but then proceeds to analyze it precisely in the same way as one would analyze the United Mine Workers or ,the Democratic Party or the Marine Corps, in other words as an empirical organization of people, a group adequately understood as responsive to the laws which govern all social organization-- then the ecclesiology involved is. perhaps less explicit, but no less operative. In either case, the Church is measured by categories which are quite extrinsic to the worship which gives it its structure. The result for that older theology was a Church whose "perfection" was in contradiction to its involvement in the fallenness of history resulting in an antiseptic notion of a Church apparently immune to history. Comparable (if inverted) distortions in our own time profess to find the Church's patent~involvement in sin a fact entirely incompatible with its claim to transcendent sacramental stature. The contemporary excesses of this "low" ecclesiology are quite as responsive to the'preoccupations of its own day as had been the earlier baroque triumphalism--and with as little profit. The living Church cannot be understood by the use of devices which would separate its history from its meaning thiough a denial of either part of its reality. It is of course possible to concede these truisms and still resist their corollary: that the Church of .our daily encounter, with its monumental confusion, cowardice, ignorance and complacency--in sum, with all the ills the spirit is heir :to--can be and is the earthly community in which the risen Christ is present and active in the outpouring of his Spirit. Surely one may attend with sympathy Dr. Robinson's "but I can't be-lieve that!" Particularly is.it hard to give to such a.Church a cash value by admitting, even demanding, an infallible Magisterium'. Such notions, it may seem, were perhaps credible before the dawn of historical consciousness. But they can hardly survive our contemporary understanding of the social and historical conditioning of the Church. This~is indeed a very possible conclusion--especially if we forget that it is precisely from this kind of despair of the temporal and human as being the medium bf God's presence that humanity was lifted by the faith, first Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 of the Jews, and then of ourselves who are their heirs, in theJdord of History who is present to hiss, people. He is present to his people not as a timeless and universal principle,, but in his Covenant, by which alone time has unity and significance, and thus is history: sacramental time. The salvific content of the events of which we are a part is quite as hard to accept today as it was at Meribah. It is indeed hard to believe that the concrete deeds and words of the Church across the .ages constitute the unique mediation of the risen Lord, for the Church is so obviously trapped, blinded, sullied and fragmented by its own historicity, by its own involve-ment in Sin. But precisely such a belief is integral with the Catholic faith. It is simply not negotiable. It is no news that there has been a developing reluctance within Catholic academic circles to give full value to the ecclesial-historical character of our redemption in Christ. This hesitation on the part of the acaderhy had focused on the Church's assertion of ,doctrinal unity and authority. But it has since broadened its front to the. extent that tradition itself is held to be discon~ tinuous within its own history, whether we are dealing with the. historical unity of the Church's doctrine or its moral or liturgical tradition. Thus it is deemed to be discontinuous within its own history, intrinsically incoherent, without value or~significance~ for the present time. In,sum, the unity of the Church has no historical expression, according to this view. Consequently the historical record, whether doctrinal, moral 'or liturgical~ is of purely academic interest. It lacks the necessary unity to support its claim to sacra-mental significance. The heart of this argument, of course, is the ancient conviction of the incompatibil.ity of'~God and man, heaven and earth, the present time and the egchatological golden age of fulfillment. Its pseudo-Christian version, Gnostic in its roots, denies that the community Of sinners; which constitutes the Church, can be the effedtive symbol, the sacrament of the fulfilled King-dom of God. This denial relies upon the perceived incongruity between the sacramental sign, whichLis ~the historical Church, .,and the effect claimed for it: the completed and fulfilled redemption of humanity in Christ. It was the mistake of' the Counter-Reformation apologetic to contest this visible incongruity, even though it is simply indisputable. To pretend the contrary leaves the apologete open to all the sacred dishonesty which characterizes a triumphalist reading of Church history. It is .not.because the Church is Worthy that she is "the sacrament of our encounter with God." It is by virtue of the presence of the risen Christ in her historical worship that the Church has her reality and her mission, not by virtue of her own probity, nor by any "works" of her own devising. It is this insight, fundamental to any valid ecclesiology, which demands Of the Catholic scholar a subordination, of his critical method to~the prior truth of his faith together with~ a surrender o of an~y delusory intellectual Catholic Sch~ools in a Declining Church." ,4 Reflection / 809, autonomy. In this 'way, while maintaining as its object, the full sacramental reality of the historical Church, the scholar's inquiry also retains intact its full integrity. The radical consequence of a refusal or of a failure in this subordina~ tion of method is the equivalent methodological reduction of the ev~nt~ of the Church's history to merely empirical significance, and the: dissolu-tion of ~the sacramental value of these events. ,At such a point, any. re, sistance to this dissolution ~must then be accounted unscientific, irrational, unrealistic, benighted. Such resistance fails to justify itself before the court of scientific reason whose writ runs as ,.far as the mind may range. In such a context, when the Church, as the object of this kind of "scien-tific" scrutiny, claims, e.g., for its traditional sexual morality a trans-empirical and sacramental value, it is challenged to make manifest the .worthiness of its doctrine for the salvific role asserted for it~and,.of course, cannot do so. Its claim is then held .to be out of court, and. if it.is a~cepted at all, this is deemed a matter of private idiosyncracy, an affair de gustibus, not "really" true . ° In the criticism ,of Humanae l/itae presented in .:Catholic Schools in a Declining Church there is more thana little of this rationalist obscurantism. ~Instead of attempting to construct the sociological o theology which ,only Catholic.-sociologists 'are equipped to' offers,, this book provides merely a secular object of sociological investigation, a pseudo-church, one with which a secular methodology,~:may be entirely comfortable~ ~i~ This pseudo-church is' fashioned from., atoms oLempirical information gathered according to the canons of .that secular methodology. The struc-ture w~hich emerges from these atrms in their collectivity is entirely em-pirical. The resulting picture of the "church" is found, to no one's amaze-ment, to Square rather badly with the Church of Catholic tradition ~enunci-ated,, for example, in Lumen Gentium or Gaudium et Spes, and particularly with thb tradition repeated affew years later in Humanae Vitae. Among the particularly prominent discrepancies between the official Church of these documents~.and the empirical "c~hurch;' described by Greeley's team is the disrrgard on the part of.the latter of the sexual, moral, ity .~which was recently reatiirmed by Rome,. to which the Catholic hierarchy has subscribed. This, in its turn, must lead to; a dilution of that respect in which the teaching authority of the Church must'be held. ~ Greeley considers this .situation to be the result of a massive failure in communication in the. institutional Church. By reason of this, a badly informed pope came to insist, disastrously, upon a morality long since abandoned by his subjects. ~ . ~ Doubtless experts in the~fieid of his methodology will find reason to contest the adequacy of Greeiey's sampling~and analytical techniques. Per-haps they will reject the evidence of "decline" which this book infers. Review tor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 Whether or not such deficiencies exist is not finally very important. No doubt a further examination of the data will contribute to the clarification of the structure revealed by the study and perhaps even require a recasting of previous inferences, thereby contributing to the accuracy of Greeley's findings. But no refinement of this methodology can bring it to bear upon more than an empirical entity. And when that entity is identified with the visible Church, a fundamental mistake has been made. If this mistake is insisted upon, it must lead to a rejection of the Catholic doctrine that the Church is a sacramental sign, having a significance which entirely transcends the empirical. This sign-visibility is the visibility of worship; ultimately, it is Eucharistic, the concrete historical actuality of the Eucharistic community, the visible structure of which is constituted by the sacraments of its worship. This c~mmunity, the Church, can no more be identified with the "church"~ discovered in Greeley's research than can th6 Eucharistic Lord be identified with the merely surface phenomena of the Eucharistic celebration. Such a refusal of this Catholic dbctrine of Church need be neither ex-plicit nor deliberate. In fact, this kind of rejection most frequently occurs inadvertently, when, for instance, a powerful new intellectual tool permits the achievement of results so impressive that its adepts forget that the faith transcends it, that the faith cannot be contained within it or be controlled by it. In the controversy which is bound to follow, a similar forgetfulness just as frequently afflicts their theological opponents. These, in rejecting the dominion of the new learning, tend also to ignore the possibility of its con-version, and so they, in their turn, underwrite the isolation of the Church from history. For a clear example of this, one need only recall the dispute between, the "old" theology and the "new" logic in the early Middle Ages. Such mistakes find their corrective in the conversion of the new device to the perennial task of theology, a process which, like all conversions, is always incomplete. While the sociological construct which emerges in Catholic Schools in a Declining Church' cannot be identified with the Church, it remains ~true that the people who responded to the questions of the study did so in the con-text of their actual involvement with Catholicism. If their response is to be given the kind of theological value and weight that Greeley suggests, it mtist be because the attitudes and opinions which~this survey reveals are under-stood as entering into the sign-which-is-the-Church, and therefore as an element of the visibility of the Eucharistic community and of its worship. In this c~ntext of Eucharistic worship, the reaction which Catholic Schools in a Declining Church has registered, whether .in regard to the value of°Catholic schools, to the changes introduced by Vatican II, or to Humanae Vitae, cannot be identified simply as the kind of Church consensus that Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection constitutes the sensus fidelium, the living faith of the People of God. This is because the sacramental Church is a s.ign which is contradicted. Our living of the faith is not a clear and obvious thing, but rather is rendered obscure and enigmatic by the fallenness of humanity and of the world. We daily refuse the truth of the "good" creation; and that refusal continually finds its historical expression in the community of the Church in a failure of Worship. The Church's worship has its prior antecedent structure in the sacra7 ments. These are the form of authentic human existence in fallen history, and in their unity they constitute the sole criteria of visible membership in the Church. Their truth is that of mystery, i.e., it can be appropriated only through worship. ~But by this worship it is appropriated. And over the centuries, this appropriation emerges historically in the doctrinal, moral and liturgical tradition of the Church. This appropriation is also a continual conversion and enfranchisement of the People of God. That it does not fail is due to no excellence of the Church's members, but only to the promise and presence of Christ among them, by which they continue to be the Body of Christ, one flesh with their risen Lord~ That this union does not fail is therefore a matter of faith: neither its existence, its quality, or its extension can be verified empirically. Its worship is that of a community of sinners. Essential to it is that sacra-ment of repentance and reconciliation by which sin, as a personal concrete failure of worship, is acknowledged in an~act of worship by which 'personal solidarity with the Eucharistic community is given again. ~ The fortunes of this sacrament of reconciliation over the nearly two millennia of its history record the enormous resistance offered the Christian notion of personal moral responsibility. The primitive identification of "sin" and "crime" required centuries to reform.~The subsequent' privatizing of confession and penance began so to obscure the public aspect of sin as to reduce public morality once more to a mere obedience to law. In some Catholic circles, this tendency is now .so far advanced as to include the despotic proposition that "the law to be obeyed" is simply the public law of the civil society. In this view, the Church has nothing to say in re morali beyond a loving endorsement of ~the reigning pluralistic consensus. ~ Yet it is only through an existential familarity with the antecedent, mean-ing of-the holy that sin is recognized and acknowledged to be a violation of the human, of the sacramental existence which is structured by the Church's worship. This holiness, this human integrity is sustained and measured by this worship, and 'not otherwise. Only here does a valid consensus emerge as to the meaning of good and evil. This consensus, this discovery, keeps pace with the slow, reluctant response of the People of God, of the Church in its members, to its Lord and his Gift--which is to live in Christ, in light rather than in an undemanding darkness, in freedom rather than in a comfortable 1112 / R'eview ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 conformity, in history rather than without. significance. And finally, it is to live responsibly, rather than to abdicate that honor and burden in favor of a false transcendence which knows no .crucifixion and offers rio redemption. The pace of this pilgrimage is impeded by our straggling, by our desertion, our defection toward one or other mirage.~ This history of Exodus is our history--together with its' pain. All of us who think ourselves Catholic must hope to be within that his-tory, undergoing that reformation and salvation. But we cannot guarantee ourselves to be so, whether as individualS'or as representatives of the whole. We cannot suppose our personal assessm6nt of moral right and wrong to be definitive and assured. Particularly is this the case when.the mass of Catholic Christians have not yet come to terms with the Christian meaning of free-dom; when they tend still to'suppose that whatever is not forbidden by Church law or tradition is thereby moral, or at least morally indifferent. It is only when adult Catholics recognize, their responsibility for the realization into history of the truth of Christ and consequently acknowledge in prayer the possibility of their own wilfull violation of their own human symbolism, their own sacramental and historical reality, their~own inescapably sexual existence--it is only in this circumstance that they can form a Eucharistic_ consensus on this now excruciating question of' the consistency of the sacra-mental symbolism of marriage with that symbolism which is inseparable from artificial contraception, and upon a complexus of other questions of only lesser urgency which bear upon the sacramental truth~of human sex-uality. This condition is not now met. Only when it is met can the Church speak confidently 'upon these newly disputed points. The obstacle to such utterance .now is not that the twenty years since the discovery of "the pill'-', is insufficient for mature judgment, but that even now the basis for making the judgment is not clear--as Catholic Schools in a Declining Church makes very evident~ The Second Vatican Council indeed introduced changes in the Church. But the greatest of these is the most ignored: the quiet dropping of .the obediential "morality which was typical of Catholic moralists before the Council--and which, unfortunately, remains typical~ for many of them to this day~ Conformi~, rather than responsible personal participation in the worship of the Church, is still proposed as the basis for moral decision. The book under consideration~only joins a chorus long since formed. But it is still from the authentic experience of free Eucharistic worship and its achievement of ~free historical.truth that the Church must teach; the truth of Christ is available, on no other basis. This is the only information system there is. It falters always~ but it does not fail. ~ The Small Group in Religious Life William Barber, Ph.D. Dr. Barber is Professor of. Psychology at Eastern. Washington State College in Cheney, WA 99004. He also is a consulting psychologist with ot~ces in Spokane. Earlier drafts of this article were helpfully reviewed by Paul Fitter, S.J.~ Ellen Monsees, R.S.C.J., Henri Nouwen and Leo Rock, S.J. Introduction This paper analyzes religious community groups from a behavioral science perspective. "Commu.nity" here refers to a face-to-face living group, usually comprised of fewer than a dozen persons, whose members may ormay not include co-workers in one,s ministry: The attempt is to show how a group's psychological developmeiat, as a community relates to and interacts with the work of members in their apostolic ministries. There exists a ~vell-established theological basis for "church as com-munity,".~ much of which has. developed since Vatican 11,1 and a detailed historical and sociologi.cal rationale calling for intensive, committed com-munity group relationships has been presented recently by Fitz and Cada.z Leaders of. religious communities know about and agree attitudinally with the need for establishing strong and deep group relationships. . o It is the experience of the writer in providing consultation to leaders of religious orders and to particular groups of religious, that what is not known is how to integrate into religious life the concepts and skills needed to est~ib-lish strong, dynamic groups of religious. It is hoped that What follows~offers some goidelines, drawn from the be-havioral sciences, for bridging the gap between the theoretical and "the practical aspects of group development in religious life. 1Dulles, A., Models oi the Church (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974). -"Fitz, R. L., & Cada, L. J., "The Recovery of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELI~OUS, 34, September, 1975. 813 814 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 The approach will be to describe ways in which groups differ from col-lections of individual persons, to distinguish religious communities from other kinds of groups, and to show how a religious community becomes an organi-zation for meeting the personal needs and at the same time the apostolic purposes of its members. A psychological rationale for community life is offered along with concrete suggestions for effective religious community life. Assumptions A group becomes more than a collection of individuals when all mem-bers need one another to accomplish a common task or goal. A dozen persons sunbathing near each other on a sunny beach are not a group in this sense; but if together they respond to a cry for help from a sinking swimmer they become a group as they work together on their shared.task of rescue. Once their task is completed, the group ceases to exist as a group, unless the members should decide to form an association to provide beach safety, in which case they would continue to be a group. Thus, being together doesn't define a group, even though all members have the same objective (in° this example to acquire suntans). It is when members need each other for some collective purpose; it is when they become interdependent, that they become a group? A community, such as a religious community is a special kind of: group in that it attempts to provide for more than support for the accomplishment of external tasks. A community~ is a group which attempts to meet the human and personal needs of its members as well: physical needs for food and shelter, social needs for recognition and friendship, and what Maslow calls the "ego needs''~ for meaning, and self-actualization as persons? Thus, a collectivity of individuals may become a group: a group may become a community for meeting physical, social and ego needs of members. At this highest level of motivation--the ego needs for actualization and fulfillment~it seems a religious community as a group attempts to meet another nee.d, the idiosyncratic need to develop its own "identity." And a re-ligious community's identity must be considered in relation to its ministry. Identity and ministry are like horizontal and vertical aspects of a group's religious life. The Vertical Dimension As a person needs to grow in self-knowledge, so a group becoming a community is drawn towards a deeper, more complete sense of identity. This is like a "vertical" dimension of growth--reaching down inside to ex-plore, to observe and to reflect upon the sense of '"~who we .are," and then aBass, B. M., & Nord, W., Leadership, Psychology and Organizational Behavior (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), p. 39. ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., Motivation and Personality (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1954). The, Small Group in Religious LiIe / 815 to come back up to the surface to test and to listen to what is being said in response. What do we mean by the discovery of identity? We mean finding out., real desires and characteristics . . . and being able to live in a way that expresses them. You learn to be authentic, to be honest in the sense of allowing your behavior and your speech to be the true and spontaneous expression of your inner feelings.~ Community identity then becomes established through sharing informa-tio~ n" in response to the question 'Who are we'?" More specifically this means generating information from the senses, the emotions, the intellect, and from the spirit for those who believe in a faith dimension to life. Transactions that provide such information for a community have to do with interper-sonal exchange: Who are we for each other? What do we want from each other? What will we offer to each other? These questions are continually asked and responded to, as persons tyy to moye from being a "group" to becoming a "community." As these questions are asked and responded to, "data"--i.e., information about thoughts, feelings, wishes are made avail-able for sharing, and thereby become integrated into the processes of decision and choice. Research indicates that more data from members produce higher quality decisions and greater member commitment to carrying them out.~ The Horizontal Dimension Identity needs to be expressed in life outside the community group; it needs to be expressed in apostolic ministry. This is like a horizontal dimen-sion of growth reaching out, listening openly and reflectively and respond-ing to what one is called upon to do and be with others. In the words of Maslow: Part of le~arning who you are, part of being able to hear your inner voices, is discovering what it is you want to do with your life. Finding one's identity is almost synonymous with finding one's career, revealing the altar on which one will sacrifice oneself,r As there are points of diminishing return in gains from individual per-sonal growth experiences s.uch as psychotherapy or encounter groups, so too are there limits to the gains to be expected from a religious community's developmental experiences--those aimed at developing a group's identity dimension. Community relationships and activities have as their raison d'6tre the support of tasks that further the work of apostolic ministry. It is analogous " to a couple's love for on'e another, in that their relationship, their "com- ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., The Farther Reaches o] Human Nature (New York: Viking Press, 1971), p. 183. GKelIy, H. H., & Thibault, J. W., ',Group Problem Solving," in Lindzey, G. & Aron-son, E. (eds.), Handbook o] Social Psychology (Cambridge, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1969), pp. 61-88. rThe Farther Reaches, p. 185. 816 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 munity" in a sense, requires expression in accomplishing goals-~having and raising children, for example--in addition to developing the affective rela-tionship that draws and keeps them together. Such a relationship needs manifest expression in order to continue to grow. This does not mean each aspect of community life requires direct con-nection to members' ministries. On the contrary, support is often drawn from interludes from "tasks": activities of recreation, distraction and apparent irrele(,ance. It is important to remember the purpose for which the support is given: that is, the rationale and the dyna.mic force for religious community comes from the shared commitment of members to thee values and goals underlying their collective ministries. As such, community identity is incom-plete without outward expression; small group religious life is incomplete without being related to apostolic ministry for purpose and direction. Similarly, ministry needs cbmmunity. Ministry needs community: (1) to provi~le a support system for sharing, helping, caring; i.e., for providing "maintenance" for the work of ministry, and (2) to provide for the personal development of members for their own sake, apart ~'rom apostolic work roles. "For their own sake" must not be taken lightly. The intrinsic dignity and value of each person's humanity calls for emotional connection to sig-nificant others. This need, this expectation, can be responded to by persons who commit themselves to one another in community life In summary, it seems that religious community groups work on two "agendas"---one vertical, the 6ther horizontal--and these become interde-pendent. Work on the vertical (e.g., listening, sharing; and more systematic-ally at times, team building or role clarification interventions)~ allows the group and each member more to offer on the horizofftal, in ministries. ' Work on the horizontal, the ministries, enables the con~munity to insert it-self into the world. It brings the world through members' experience into the community in order (l) to infuse ndw life, (2) to offer new direction, and (3) to provide standards for evaluating effectiveness of effort. The result is a dynamic system in which energy and creative r~sources increase. The sy~stem is dynamic in that it generates energy, and it is self-renewing because of the interdependent, reciprocal', exchanging relationship between vertical "and horizontal dimensions. The Goal of Community: Synergy One cannot explore for very long questions Such as we have asked about the dynamics of community life and ministry without confronting the larger question: What should community experience be like? What is it we are searching for by our attempt to integrate identity needs with apostolic min-istry? Maslow was a student of the anthropologist Ruth Benedict and he draws upon her concept of synergy to describe activities within a group w,hich benefit both individuals and the group as a whole. Quoting Benedict, Maslow writes: The Small Group in Religious Lile / 817 I shall speak,.of cultures with low synergy where the social structure pro- ¯ vides for acts which are mutually opposed and counteractive, and cultures with high synergy where it provides for acts which are mutually reinforcing, ¯ . . I spoke o] societies with high social' synergy where their institution insures mutual advantage ]rom their understandings, and societies with" low social synergy where tile advantage o] one individual becomes a victory over an-other, and the majority who are not victorious must shi]t as tliey call. (Italics by Maslow).8 Note the images that portray sources of energy and strength in Bene-dict's synergistic group and that we strive for in the small community group: " . . . acts which are mutually reinforcing . " " . . . mutual .advantage frrm their understandings"; opposing activities whereby "the advantage of one individual becomes a victory over another. " (italics mine). The goal of small group religious community life from a psychological viewpoint is to tap and direct this energy to provide driving force toward purposeful objectives. And the content of Benedict's message i~ the syner-gistic communities offer understanding, support °and action and oppose win/ lose relationships among members. Criteria for Synergistic Community ~ One way to test the thesis offered: here is to observe and reflect" upon experience with alternate life styles among priests and religious. Certainly no single organizational structure' promises to bypass the struggles required to enable a synei~gistic community to grow. Comprehensive discussion is beyond the scope of this paper, but we wish to poi~nt to certain mechanisms that have been found helpful by some rdligious communities in developing open, prbblem-solving climates. Most of the traits mentioned require organi-zational consultation and experience-based learning methods to become operational.9 The starting point is the vertical dimension--to expand the experience of c~mmunity identity. Desirable characteristics and mechanisms have to do with group size, group norms, communication skills, information about members' ministries, shared prayer' and sacraments, and explicit contracts regarding time, tasks, territory'and role of members. A' small group of from four to twelve members enables differences in re-sources to be present and the opportunity for each person to become well known to the others¯ Norms--implicit rules governing behavior--must be developed to support the expression'of affection a~d warmth, confronta, lion and conflict, and to support bringing-in input and help for the group. Basic communication skills in paraphrasing, describing behavior, describing Sop, cit., p. 202. 'aBarber, W. H., & Nord, W., Healer RoleJ o[ Consultants and Need Orientations o] Clients (Spokane: Eastern Washington State College,~mimeo, 1975). Barber, W. H., and Lurie, H. J., "Designing an Experience Based Continuing Education Program," American .tournal o[ Psychiatry, 130, 10, 1973. 818 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 feelings and giving and receiving personal feedback, facilitate interpersonal communication. Some initial didactic experience is useful, and the develop-ment of norms to support the use of communication skills in day-to-day practice is crucial. Since feelings about s'elf are strongly influenced by feelings about work, members who strive for interdependence need to have direct, first-hand in-formation about each other's apostolates. The group has the benefit of dif-ferent experiences and resources when it is comprised of members from different ministries. As there should be shared expression at an interpersonal level of posi-tive feelings and confrontation, as noted above, so there should be shared expression at a spiritual level through prayer, liturgical celebration.and other faith experiences. This serves the purpose of enabling persons who have a commitment to each other to share this special part of their lives. Keeping spiritual sharing separate from other community activities and allowing for differences in member participation is also important because these are valuable means of legitimizing the individuality of personal experience and expression. To be clear about and in control of boundaries the points of separa-tion- for the community in regard to time--when things happen; tasks-- what occurs; territo.ry--appropriate physical spaces for the separate and shared parts of members' lives; and role,delineation of special roles within the group (e.g., management, coordination, various maintenance roles). Summary: Culture and Open System Two ideas may help to summarize the characteristics of effective com-munity: they are "culture" and "open system." It is the hope of those estab-lishing a small group community to enable a particular culture to emerge, one that is unique and meets special needs for that group. A culture is characterized by its social organization--especially norms, roles and ex-pectations for member behavior--and by its "expressions," i.e., what is shared with the outside world by the group. We have said here that the culture of the religious community needs to develop through Particular norms, patterns and values regarding communication and the organization of tasks and roles and religious expression. An open system like a biological organism, is one characterized by in-take, transformation and export processes.1° Transactions occur with the environment: intake of new members, materials and information; and export of the "products" of members' work, and members who leave the system. It is through evaluating differences between intake and export that the quality of the group's efforts, its internal processes can be judged. To be. effective as an open system, a religious community requires management of its intake, export and internal transformation processes, in the latter case 10Rice, A. K., Learning ]or Leadership (London: Tavistock Publications LTD., 1971). The Small Group in Religious Li]e / 819 procedures for meeting individual and group needs for' control of boundaries of time, task, territory and role. Growth of the v~rtical dimension occurs as the culture develops; this growth can be measured by the quality of interaction among members. Open relationships occur as members share ideas, feelings and perceptions that have to do-with their purposes in being together. Trust develops enabling openness and personal sharing to occur appropriately (in contrast with some coercive group norms toward "confiding" or "revealing"). Norms support-ing individual differences in sharing grow and become explicit. When both openness and personal sharing occur and yet individual differences are en-couraged, a climate of genuine intimacy develops. Conclusions Openness, trust and intimacy are important because as human beings we are drawn toward becoming "the persons who we are" and toward being "in relationship.''~ But as a priest or religious one is committed to apostolic ministry--horizontal dimension. Community exists "in the service of min-istry"-~ and this is primary. But since vertical and horizontal dimensions are interdependent, the work of ministry will suffer unless it is anchored in re-ligious community experience that meets social and psychological needs of member~ along with spiritual and apoStolic objectives. One implication is that persons living in religious community may use-fully explore ways in which they are and are not, like the sunbathers men-tioned above, (1) a number of separate individuals in physical proximity to one another, (2) a group brought together because of an immediate, com-mon task, or (3) a special kind of institution, formed to support the work of members' apostolates and simultaneously to facilitate members' personal development. This paper has tried to distinguish among such groups in order to enable members to better cfioose the type of community to which they wish to be committed. The small group as religious community is a collectivity of persons unified by the overarching mission of faith--to facilitate the experience of Christ among persons. This paper attempts to describe how synergy develops and is maintained in the service of ministry thi'ough integrating, in a dynamic way, community needs and apostolic objectives of inembers.1~ XlBuber, M., I and Thou (New York: Scribners, 1970). tZThe ideas in the paper were presented at an assembly of provincial leaders of the Society of the Sacred Heart from North America, Australia, and New Zealand in September, 1975. Provincial teams of three to five persons worked for ten days at various experiential activities aimed at internalizing, in their own behavior, the char-acteristics which are noted in this paper. Their purposes were to strengthen their team relationships, to increase their own experience of Community and to apply the ideas in this paper to 'their concrete work tasks and roles. The women reported, and assembly observers documented~ significant movement toward integrating the concepts with be-havior and action. A paper summarizing behavioral science aspects of the assembly and follow-up data may be requested from the author. The Contemplative Attitude in Spiritual Direction William A. Barry, S.J. Father Barry, Director of the Center for Religious DevelopmeJat, has written on the subject of spiritual direction for our pages before. His last article for RfR was pub-lished in March, .1973. He continues to reside at 42 Kirkland St.; Cambri~lge, MA 02138. In a number of articles both William J. Connolly, S.J. and I have referred to contemplation and the contemplativ~ attitude as the kind of prayerful attitude which spiritual directors try to encourage in those who seek spiritual direction.1 We have tried to describe what we mean by these words. Suffice it here to say that we use the word contemplation in itsoetymological sense; we mean to refer to the act of looking at or listening to something. Webster's first definition of "contemplate" says some of what we mean: "to view or consider with continued attention." In our earlier articles, I believe, we have not been sufficiently precise in our use of the word co.ntemplation and contemplative attitude. We have spoken of contemplating .the Lord in Scripture and in nature and have not sufficiently distinguished between the contemplation of Scripture and nature 1Barry, W. A., "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exer-cises," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 32, No. 1 (1973), pp. 102-109. Bai'r~;, W. A., "The Necessity of Contemplative Prayer for the Teaching and Stu~ly of Theology in a Ministerial School," Church Society ]or College Work, Vol. XXXIII, No. I (1975), pp. 6-10. Connolly, W. J., "Contemplation and Social Consciousness in the Context of the Directed° Retreat: An Experiential Approach." An address at the 8th National Workshop on the Spiritual Exercises, Cincinnati, August 25-28, 1974, and published by The Program to Adapt the Spiritual Exercises, Jersey° City, New Jersey 07302. Connolly,.W.J., "Contemporary Spiritual Direction: Scope and Principles, An Intro-ductory Essay." Studies in the Spirituality o] Jesuits, VII, (1975), pp. 95-124. 820 The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 8:21 and the contemplation of the Lord. Perhaps we have also not sufficiently attended to the nuance that one can have a. contemplative attitude and yet noi be contemplating the LordsIt is the purpose of these notes' to attempt some clarification of the meaning of and use of contemplation in spiritual direction. The Contemplative Attitude and Its Relation to "Transcendence" Have you ever been so absorbed in watching a game or reading a book or listening to music that you have been surprised at the end of the passage of time, by how cold or hot you are, by the anger of a friend (who has been asking 'you something for ten minutes)? Then you know the power of paying attention to something, and you have a personal example of the contemplative attitude. The most telling examples come from reports of how parents 'have been so concentrated on their children's safety in a fire or accident that they have only at the end felt the pain of their own wounds. Thus, one effect of the contemplation of something outside ourselves is that it can make us forget ourselves and our other suroundings. Contempla-tion leads to, or rather, is an experience of transcendence, of self-forgetful-ness of everyone and everything else except the contemplated object. '. Conversely, we find that self-absorption makes the contemplation of any-thing or an~yone else very difficult, if not impossible. Thus,. a starving man may well be unable to enjoy a sunset. One of the key elements to ministry in a hospital is the atte~apt to help the sick to become interested in others around them and in the outside world, that is, to help them todo something that will enable them to forget their own pain and suffering or to put it in another perspective. , . : Another aspect of the examples we began with should' catch our atten-tion, namely that the responses of absorption, joy, pain,: sympathy, love, gratitude which are associated with contemplation are not willed acts or willed emotions~ They are elicited from us by what we see and hear and comprehend.,~ (Of course; these responses~, do not arise qrom a blank tablet, but are conttitioned by our own past experiences~) Herewe have an impor-tant element to consider in all spiritual direction. Responses that are elicited by contemplation are not experienced in the first instance as willed acts. The clearest example, perhaps, is the response of love when one looks at the beloved; it seems to be a gift, something that arises because of the other, not because one has decided to love or fall in love. What one can do is to look it and to try to pay attention to the other, but ore cannot will one's response. At most one can hope that one will respond a certain way, This last point leads us to a further consideration. The person who con-templates in the way we are describing has to have an attitude of reverence and wonder before the other, especially if what he/she ~vants to see or hear is within the power of the other to grant 9r~withhold. In this case all one can do is to ask the other to reveal himself or herself and wait for it to Review 1or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 happen. This insight is behind the prayer for what one desires which Ignatius of Loyola puts at the begifining of every one of the exercises of the Spiritual Exercises. For example, in the Exercises I pray that the Lord will reveal to me my sinfulness, that I may have shame and confusion, that the Lord make himself known to me in order that I may love him and follow him. Here we see even more clearly the relation between contemplation and transcendence. When we are dealing with another person, we are not in the same position as we are when we are dealing with an object. Saint Exuprry's Little Prince on his small asteroid only needs to move his chair a bit in order to see another sunset, but he is powerless to see the reality and unique-ness of his flower until she chooses to reveal herself to him.2 But when the free other chooses to reveal him or herself, then the genie is out of the bot-tle, as T. S. Eliot said,~ and the mystery of the other is upon us. Thus we have a further observation on the relation of contemplation to transcendence. We try to control our perceptions. We are threatened by new-hess and strangeness, msa result we often see only what we "want" to see or what our perceptual and cognitive structures let us see. To try to contemplate means to try to let the other be himself or herself or itself, to try to be open to surprise and newness. To begin this process means to open oneself to mystery, ultimately to the Lordship of the Other. It is to let oneself be controlled by the other; paradoxically, one finds oneself free. The upshot most often is that one becomes less incapacitated by fear from accepting the mystery of life/ The experience of transcendence is, I believe, one of a continuum from total self-absorption to total absorption in the other--with the two ends of the continuum being ideal .states not found in nature. In any human experi-ence there is bound to be an.admiXture of both self-consciousness and. aware-ness of the outside world. The boundaries of the continuum might well be circumscribed by referring to the narcissistic person on the one hand and the enraptured mystic on the other. It might also be a help to those who are praying to realize that the contemplation of the Lord is no different from the contemplation of any other person in this regard, namely that one can be in the intimate presenc~e of a very dear friend'and still be'or become aware of the ache in one's feet, of wondering whether one put out the lights in the car, of the work still to be done for school tomorrow, and so forth. ZAntoin"e de Saint-Exuprry, Le Petit Prince, New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1943. " :~"But let me tell y~u, that to approach the stranger ls to invite the unexpected, release a new force, Or let the genie out of the bottle. It is to start a train of events Beyond your control ." T. S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party 4See W. J. Connolly, "Freedom and Prayer in Directed Retreats," REVIEW ]FOR REr LIGIOtJS, Vol. 32, No. 6, (1973), pp. 1358-1364. The Contemplative Attitude in Direction "/ 823 "Distractions," in other words, are a part of even the most intimate rela-tionships and should be expected in prayer too. Finally, in an intimate conversation reflection on what is happening or. on how well one is doing, especially with the idea of writing about it in one's journal or using it as an example for an article like this, can disturb the communication and be an instance of self-absorption. It happens, but it is better not to program it this way. Thus, the wisdom of. the tradition in spiritual direction of advising the person praying to do the reflecting after the period of prayer is over. Contemplation ~f the Lord in Nature and in Scripture Perhaps now we can clarify what we mean by contemplation of the Lord in nature and in Scripture. The Lord is invisible, and so hard to look at; he also seems pretty silent, and so hard to listen to~ Often enough, therefore, we try too hard to pray, :try too hard to listen and look. Too often prayer is seen as self-absorbing; our natural reaction when someone says, "Let us pray," is to bow our heads, close our eyes, and get serious--all of which is proper in its place. But we rarely get the impression that prayer can be an enjoyable experience, :that it can be a conversation, a dialogue, a relation- .ship. The spiritual director is confronted with the problem of,helping people to the enjoyment of God when much Of their past experience of prayer is one of labor, seriousness, brooding, and self-absorption. Many of us .who do spiritual direction have hit upon the idea of helping people to forget themselves for a while. We ask them what they like todo, what he!ps them just to forget their problems (besides going to sleep), and we try to help them to see that 0ihey already do contemplate in the way de- Scribed in the first note. We suggest that they spend a certain amount of time-~each.day, if possible-~-, doing whateVer it is that they like doing that is contemplative, and that they :consider this time as time with the Lord (i.e: prayer) in much the same way that they might want to share the same ex-perience with a close friend. We also suggest that they ask the Lord to make his presence known, to reveal himself. Then they look at and/or listen to whatever it is 'they enj'oy. After e~ch period of doing this we ask them to reflect on the experience: What happened?'What did they experience? Did the Lord make himself known? It is surprising what .happens wl~en people begin to do something like this. They often have objections at first: they.f.eel it cannot be prayer. More-over, being so conditioned to think that brooding and insights and resolu-tions are what prayer is all about they often need time and patience to get the hang of it and to find out that the director really means what he says. But then they begin to find such "prayer" times enjoyable and relaxing; they find themselves surprised by feelings of joy and gratitude and a real sense that Someone is present who loves and cares for them. They find that th~ey can 824 / Review ]dr Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 admit things to themselves that they were always afraid or ashamed to look at--and they feel better for it; they feel freed, healed. Agnes Sanford in her book The Healing Gilts ol the Spirit gives very similar advice. To people whosay "I can't find God," she suggests doing some simple things, especially things they like to do, that will put them in the way of God, as she says,0so "that he can find you.''~ That is the point, of course; as we saw in the first.section, ~the only thing we can do when we want to get 'to know another person is to put ourselves near and askthe person to reveal himself or herself. These reflections bring us to the question: Are there any privileged places or privileged events where we can go to put ourselves in the Lord's way? The traditional answer has been that there are, and. that these places and events include the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, the church teaching, the Scriptures, and the works of the Lord, especially nature, I will say something later about additions to this list, but now I would like to take up nature and' the Scriptures, Traditionally people have found peace and refreshment in the beauties of nature: The fact that most retreat houses, houses of prayer and monas-teries have been located in or near scenes of natural beauty testify to the belief that God is found more easily in nature and in solitude than, say, in cities. Traditionally, too, we have spoken of God revealing himself in the things he has made, "in plants and animals and in men, the wonders of Your hand," as the canon written ~by John L'Heureux puts it,~ I do not want to counter this tradition although I do believe that the Lord can be as present in the city; rather, I want to examine how the Lord is met and how we can help people to meet him in natt~re. First of all directors should suggest~ looking ~nd listening, not give ideas about God's continual creation, his indwelling, and so forth. We have to remember that most of us are conditioned by catechism, philosophy and the-ology classes to have beautiful thoughts about how. God is in all things, but that few of us have ever looked long.enough at a flower to let God reveal himself as the maker of that flower for me. Before a tree can become a symbol of God, it must first be seen and touched and smelled as a tree. The first suggestion, then is that people look at and listen to what.is around them. The second suggestion is that looking at natural beauty can in itself be a way of relat!ng to the Lord without any words~being said. Just as I relate to an artist by taking interest in what he has made, by taking time to look at it or listen to it, so too I can relate to God if I take time to contemplate what he has made. Creators lik~ to have people show interest in what they have done. All the better if I like" what I ~see and smile or sigh or express ~Sanford, Agnes~ The Healing Gilts 0! the Spirit (New York: Lippincott, 1966), esp. pp. 25-32. ~In Hoey, R. F. (ed.), The Experimental Liturgy Book (N,Y.: Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 97. ' The Contemplative Attitude in Direction delight in the presence of the artist. Such responses are elicited by what I contemplate, not willed by me, and they are communications to'the artist; in the case of God they are then called prayers of praise. Tfiey do not have to be couched in "prayer language." Indeed, the prayer is often made before a word is formed. The spiritual director might then be able to point out that the responses of the directee are similar to the responses that the poet who wrote Psalm 104 must have had and then tried to express in poetry. Not everyone is a poet, but almost everyone can be thrilled by a dazzling sunset or sunrise, the sun's light on fall leaves, and so forth, and feel a. deep sense of wonder. , Thus far we have been stressing the need to look and listen, the con-templative attitude. As I contemplate, I can also have desires, one of which is that the Lord reveal himself to me while I am looking at his works. If I begin my period of contemplation with a prayer that this desire be grant.ed, then.it is liable to happgn. I do not want to rule out high mystical experi-ences--~ because they do happen and more frequently than we tend to think --but here I would rather concentrate on the more ordinary ways the Lord reveals himself in,answer to this prayer. One can be walking along the beach at night and see a touch of silver from the moon on the crest of a wave and besides delighting in it suddenly feel at peace and in someone's presence who .himself delights in such things. Unaccountably one may feel that one is still loved, even though one does drink o'r eat too much or get angry with one's community members too often or even though one has just lost one's best friend or has just been turned down for graduate school or was not elected superior or whatever, and one may feel free to face ~oneself more honestly and with less self-pity. Or a person may sense her insignificance under the stars, and yet feel her own importance in the ~whole scheme of things, Or another may Sense a call deep inside himself to change his life style. In all these instances the person may be hearing or sensing the voice of the Lord revealing himself. When these kinds of experiences are real and exciting.and challenging as well as com-forting, then the Lord has begun to take on a new reality for the person. Perhaps now he or~.she can also pay attention to him and not just to his creatures. And here may lie the dividing line between contemplating the Lord and contemplating his works. The work of the spiritual director now becomes one of helping the per-son praying to discern, that is, to figure out what is going on, what is God's voice, what not. The discernment of spirits, begins when there are inner movements and the question is: Is the Lord revealing himself, and if so, what is he saying? The genie is out of the bottle, and now it is important to follow the genie's movements. We can look at the contemplation of Scripture in a similar way. Scrip-ture is not the Lord, but a privileged place to meet him. However, one must pay attention to the Scripture itself just as one has to pay attention to trees 1126 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 or sunsets or mountains. That is,"it is necessary to have a contemplative at-titude toward Scripture, to let the Scriptures be themselves and to listen to them and to ask that the Lord reveal himself while we are listening to these words. I do not intend ~here to delve into the arguments as to whether any other religious texts might be privileged places for meeting God; they could be and indeed people have met God while paying attention to St. Augustine's Confessions, to the prayer of St. Francis, to many other works of religious .literature, and even to secular literature. I am accepting as a given that Sgripture has primacy of place over all other literature as the Word of God. But we must listen to the Scriptures themselves, and not our projections onto them. One sometimes hears that modern scripture ,.scholarship with its de-mythologizing and its form criticism has been a blow to piety and has made it more difficult to use Scripture for prayer. Scripture scholars, it is some-times charged, have taken the mystery out of the infancy narratives of the gospels and other stories. We are not sure what Jesus actually said, or whether he actually did everything the gospels say he did. "How can we ever know him then?", people wonder. Those of us who take scripture studies and spiritual direction seriously have had to ponder these questions and charges as well as to take seriously our own and others' experiences in praying with the Scriptures. I think that we have not always been careful in our way of speaking, and it is my hope that this note will contribute to the clarification of our thought and ex-pression. , ,I want to focus on. the contemplation of the gospels and hope that the principles enunciated here can be analogously translated to the use of other scripture texts~ The first point is obvious: It does little good for prayer or Christian living to base both on a delusion. Hence, it is important to see the gospels for what they are. They are not biographies of J.esus, but four differ-ent expressions of the faith of the early Church and what it remembered in faith about Jesus. Each gospel has its own point of view, its own theo-logical focus, its own Sitz im Leben. Contemplation of°Mark's gospel, for example, means taking Mark's work on its own terms and trying to listen to his work of art. Secondly, it should be said that one need not be a Scripture scholar in order to be able to use the gospels for prayer. The Lord can still reveal him-self to someone who believes that angels actually did sing "Glory to God in the highest" at Bethlehem as long as one is open to having the living Lord reveal himself. But I do believe that the more one knows about the gospel, the better one can look at and listen to it and not to one's own cultural and personal projections of it. Thus, I believe that scripture study can be a help to contemplation. In other words, it helps, I think, to be able to con-template Mark's Jesus and know that it is Mark's Jesus and not necessarily The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 827 the "real article" in all his historical reality. For one thing, one is not going to be thrown so much out of kilter by new discoveries of scripture scholars. More importantly, one is more likely to realize that the person one wants to meet' is not the Jesus of the past, but the present living Lord (who, of course,'is continuous with Jesus of Nazareth). Here we are at the heart of the matter. The purpose of contemplating the gospels .is to come to know the living Lord Jesus. Here again we can see the wisdom of Ignatius of Loyola. Before every contemplation of events from the gospels Ignatius has the retreatant pray for what he desires, namely "an intimate knowledge of our Lord, who has become man for me, that I may .love him more and follow him more closely.''~ Then I listen to the gospel text and treat it for what it is, as imaginative literature. I try to take the text ~seriously, and try to let it inspire my imagination, as it was written to do (as well. as to enkindle my faith). But my desire is not to know the scripture text better, but to know the risen Jesus better. I want him to reveal himself to me. And when he takes on reality and shape for me (not neces-sarily in a picture, by the way), then I talk to him, not to the text, and I listen to him, not the text. Those-who have not had this experience will not know what I am talking about, but hopefully they will be open enough to listen to the experience of those who have. The purpose of contemplation of Scripture is not to see Jesus. walking on water or to see him in Galilee or hear him say to Peter "Feed my lambs.~ The purpose is to hear the risen Jesus say to me: "Your sihs are~ forgiven,~you" and to know he means me; to hear him say to me." "Come,,follow~me.and be my friend" and.know that it is the Lord and that he is talking to me. Once again, discernment be-comes a necessity when I begin to feel moved by the Lord himself. I hope that by now it is clear that contemplation of nature or of Scrip~ ture is not in itself contemplation of the Lord, but that the former is a privileged way to the latter. Indeed, one can say that contemplation in the first sense is a technique or method, where contemplation in the second sense is relationship itself and no methods ~are needed. Finally as to the list of privileged places, it may be well to indicate that those mentioned earlier are still privileged places and also that different eras and different people may prefer one of the privileged places to others. It may also be that new privileged places may come into prominence. I am thinking especially of a shift from nature to man-made works of art or technique, a suggestion made by Josef Sudbrack, S.J? In our modern urban culture we may well find that human artifacts as well as human persons themselves may be more privileged than natural beauty. "l~here should be no difficulty here since the works of humans are ultimately God's handiwork. ~Spiritual Exercises (Puhl Translation), No. 104, p. 49. 8Sudbrack, Josef, Beten ist Menschlich: Aus der Er]ahrung Unseres Lebens mit Gott Sprechen (Freiburg in Breisgau: Herder, 1973). 828 / Review jor Religious, Volume 35~ 1976/6 On the Question of the Utility of Contemplation Recently in a discussion of contemplation someone mentioned that many people were advocating the 'techniques I have labelled contemplative for problem solving in management, for conflict resolution and that they worked without reference to God or the transcendent. That is, the contemplative techniques we mentioned in the,.earlier notes, were being used for secular purposes,, and people were feeling better, were more creative, more integral, and so forth. There is no question that the technique of contemplation by itself is very salutary. We need~ not bemoan that fact. But then what is the need to bring in God and prayer? ~ Here the only reply is to ask oneself to what end one uses contempla-tive techniques. If the answer is to solve problems, to feel better, to be more creative, then perhaps there is no need t~ refer to God and prayer. But for those for whom contact with the living Lord and the relationship itself with him are the goals, the question loses significance. It is like asking someone what he gets ,out of time spent with his wife that he could not get from others just as well. For those who seek the Lord, these techniques would be worthless no matter how good they. made them feel if in the process they did not find their Lord. Throughout.~these notes I have stressed that the purpose of contemplating nature, Scripture, or anything else is to meet the living Lord. When he is engaged, or rather when he engages me, there is no need of techniques or even of asking what the utility of prayer is. I want to be with him, and ttiat is enough. Without effort utility comes; one be-comes a better person and Christian. But relationship,is what is sought: In a Rut To get out of a rut a seed digs deeper. Edward A. Gloeggler P.O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Individual Apostolates and Pluralism Community Identity in John T~I Ford, C.S.C. Fr. Fo~:d is Associate Professor of' Theology and Coordinator of Ministerial Studies in the School of Religious Studies at the Catholic University of America, WA 20064. Not too long ago, as our history is measured, the apostolic endeavors of American religious communities almost' invariably took a corporate or insti-tutional form. A typical example is the religious house all of whose members work in an adjacent school. Though there may be considerable variety in the occupations of individual religious (e.g~, ,~administration, teaching, coun-seling, maintenance, etc.), the work of;each is seen as contributing to the overall~ofunctioning of the institution. This corporate pattern is frequently paralleled in hospitals,~parishes, and other works religious communities un-dertake. ~ An.~important.consequence of this familiar pattern is aopervasive identi-fication, of religious community .with its institutions:' For example, this iden-tification is commohly reinforced through° a schedule that melds communal and institutional activities: if religious aren't working~in the institution, then they usua.!ly can be found together at some communal, activity in the near-bmyo rree sciydneinccale .h Tavhee c roemsuplatr iesd p wraitcht iicmapllryis ao n"mtoetnatl; .i nhsotwituetvieorn;.aalsi zwatiillo bne" nthoatet dthe later, a more apt.' comparison is with the communal life of the "family farm" or the "cottage industry" in agrarian societies. In brief, then, an "institutional apostolate" is a particular activity that members= of a religious community undertake as a corporate: effort; it is both a means of livelihood and a means of realizing the goals of the community. The melding of communal and institutional activities also affords a means ~f self-identity for religious. For example, the fact that religious (with 829 a30 / Review Jot Religioux, Volume 35, 1976/6 appropriate humility) speak of"'our school" is but one indication of the in-fluence of merged communal-institutional life on individual religious. Re-cently, when it has become necessary to close "our school," this identifica-tion has sometimes become painfully apparent. In other terms, the American tendency to identify a person with his occupation (e.g., John Smith is a carpenter, Mary Doe is a teacher) reached sort of a zenith in the case of religious; indeed, religious may be so identified with a particular institution that "outsiders" may not even know the proper name of the community whose members work there (e.g., "the sisters who teach at St. Mary's"). The liabilities of institutional apostolates are all too familiar. Perhaps the most burdensome is the tendency to subordinate the personal life of religious to the consuming demands of the institution. Illustrations are legion: fre-quently requests of a personal nature are refused if they are seen as inter-fering with the work of the institution (rather than as being alien to com-munity life). Another burden is an unrealistic subordination of communal life to institutional demands. While the acceptance of an institutional apos- ,tolate necessarily demands coordination with the life of the community, sometimes this is done by an additive process, as in the case of a com-munity that fulfilled its quota of religious exercises, one rapidly following another, after closing school for the day. Occasionally, the reverse happens: the requirements of an institutional apostolate are over-ruled by community procedures. An obvious, instance is the appointment of religious to in-stitutional positions for which their major qualification is membership in the sponsoring community. While post-conciliar renewal has (presumably?)caused the disappear-ance of the more conspicuous malpractices, still an inherent and recurring problem in institutional, apostolates is to maintain an appropriate balance between institutional work, living in community; and personal life. Any notable imbalance in these relationships is likely to occasion friction or dissatisfaction within a community. In addition to this perennial problem, there are other factors that have brought added pressures on institutional apostolates in recent years. For example, as a result of the post-conciliar decrease in the number of active religious, many communities have been. unable to staff their institutions in the same measure as formerly. Maintaining institutional 'commitments is seemingly so burdensome that some religious doubt the wisdom of institu-tional apostolates at all---even if their community would have sufficient personnel in the future. This feeling is frequently shared by those younger religious who are disenchanted with institutions in general and have entered religious life in view of a more personalized type of service. While this anti-institutionalism is~sometimes naively ex.aggerated, the fact remains that some communities have accepted members who simply do not identify with in-stitutional apostolates. Simultaneously new options have become available. For example, ~the Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 831 closing of some schools has made it possible or necessary for religious to seek positions outside the educational institutions conducted by their own community. Again, recent developments in the °Church, have led to the creation of new positions that ~previously didn't exist--directors of religious education representing a common instance. And in some cases, religious have found employment in government agencies or public interest firms. An interesting relationship has emerged in many institutions of higher education. In order to qualify for governmental assistance, a legal separation has been effected between institution and sponsoring community. While the same religious may continue their apostolate within the institution, legal separation makes it incongruous for a community to continue to consider the institution "ours." The legal status of religious working in the institu-tion is also changed; for example, many religious now have contracts with institutions that were formerly controlled by theircommunities. Apparently, institutional apostolates are being "individualized." Individual Apostolates Such recent developments have led to the emergence of'a variety of "individual apostolates.''1 Here an "individual apostolate" is :taken to mean a particular occupation that a religious undertakes as a personal effort and responsibility; it is to some degree independent of the administration of the community as such; it depends more on the particular personal qualifications of the religious, not on membership in this or that community. The degree of individuality, however, may ~vary considerably: religious who continue to'work in what were formerly their community's institutions may find that legal separation is a more or less nominal change; other religious, however, may find that they have to qualify competitively for their positions. In the latter case, when a particular religious leaves an individual apostolate, the community can not expect and is not expected to furnish a replacement (as is frequently the case in institutional apostolates). An im-portant icharacteristic of individual apostolates is that the religious com-munity as such can not determine whether its members will be able to ob-tain specific positions. Speaking.of an: apostolate as "individual" does not imply that it~is in-dependent of church or community; rather (if it is to be considered an apostolate) it must be conceived in'some way as a service that witnesses to Christ and reflects the spirit of a particularjcommunity. Moreover, there is a sense in which every apostolate is "individual,". insofar as religious are individually responsible for "personifying" the Gospel in their particular occupations. l Just as some may prefer terms such as '!mission" or "ministry" in place of "aposto-late," some may prefer terms such as "special" or "experimental" to "individual." Whatever the merits of one or other term, the concern here is with the implications of the individuality of these occupations in relation to community life. 1132 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 However, one must admits, the arbitrariness of classifying practically any occupation as an "apostolate." For example, practically any occupa-tion- from farming to fine arts, from physical education to theoretical physics--has been placed under the generic umbrella of "apostolate" in various institutions conducted by religious. Given this precedent, it seems rather arbitrary to attempt to restrict "individual apostolates" along rigid lines.: In addition, individual apostolates have long-standing precedents in most active communities: the missionary stationed alone, the student i'e-ligious living outside a community residence, the traveling .retreat-master or fund-raiser, etc. Again on the'basis of precedents, it is hard to disqualify individual apostolates on .'the ground of separation from daily community life. Or is it justifiable to consider these instances "temporary," when in fact they last for years? Or is it realistic to consider these cases .exceptions or experiments, if they involve a relatively large percentage of a com-munity? The point in raising these questions is not to object to the legitimacy of individual° apostolates in active communities? Insofar as religious rules are guidelines~ not~ absolutes,, exceptions are allowable or, at times,.nece~sary; there does not seem to be any.a priori reason why individual apostolates can not be a justifiable exception. Likewise, communities have always had to experiment in their apostolates; accordingly, individual apostolates can be seen as a new type of apostolic venture attempting to respond to con-temporary needs. Still, it is hardly adequate to treat individual apostolates merely as exceptions or experiments~ First of all, a more positive view is necessary. Individual apostolates should be seen as a development that is appropriate, perhaps necessary, if the Church is to witness to Christ in the contemporary world? Indeed', individual apostolates have already proved beneficial in some communities; for example, their existence has occasioned a much needed delineation of lines of community responsibility in relation to all apostolates. Moreover, individu~il apostolates are a means whereby com-munities, instead of being constrained to fill various slots, can utilize their personnel in more creative ways. Perhaps the most attractive aspect of indi-vidual apostolates is their challenge to religious to develop fully their talents in the service of Christ. 2The question of what constitutes app(opriat~e occupations for r.eligious parallels that of appropriate occupatior~s for priests; cf. G. Murray, "The Hyphenated Priest," R]R (~'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS) 25 (1966), 693-702; D. Hassel, "The Priest-Expert," Chicago Studies 3 (1964), 201-225. .~Whether individual apostolates can be defended in contemplative communities is a different question; the example of Thomas Merton suggests that the possibility should not be peremptorily rejected. :*Cf. M. Rondet, ',Choices of Religious Life in a Secularized Worldi" R]R 34 (1975), 574-579. ~Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 833 On the other hand, since individual apostolates have seemingly arisen more by indirection than by intention~ it is easy to continue the pattern of temporary expedients ~ or ad hoc experiments"without facing broader issues. For example, it may be tempting to presume that individual apos-tolates are only a passing fad that will eventually go away; yet ~what if they are really introducing a new. and, distinct.form of religious,life?~ Again, it is tempting to assume that ,there is little difference.,~between religious, life for those in individual apostolates and those in institutional, apostolates; accordingly, the ~same mo~lel of religious' 'life should prevail in both. But what if there ,is-need for a new type of balance between occupation, re-ligiouslife, and personal life-style in individual apostolates? " The impl!cations of individual apostolates for religious life have been emerging, ,.like ~the apostolates themselves, only piecemeal. Though only partially apparent, these~implications need to be examined, for they poten- .tially constitute the raw material for either crisis or creativity---~r more ljk61y, a bit,of both. In other words,, a pattern is being established that affects,not only'the individual religious involved,,but the commumty as a whole~ For example, a relatively high proportion'of members in some communities is currently engaged in individual apostolates; even were it desirable to withdraw mem- .bets' from individual apostolates,.,it may no longer be feasible to do so without serious disruption (viz. problems in re-assignment, budget, resi-dence, etc.). Somewhat incongruously~ individual apostolates seem to have reached a point of institutionalization! On .the theoretical level, v~hat is at issue is a community's self-vision and self-identity. On the practical level is a complex of questions relating to the implementation of thi~ vision and the fostering of community identity Theoretical Level: A New Vision? Whatever the imbalances in institutional apostolates, they offer religious a sense of identity: "our community working in our restitution:" Quite commonly this sense of corporate identity ~s reinforced by a vision of religious life as a continual harmony of prfiyer ~nd Work, of w~or.k and prayer. Indeed, the identification of community and° institution, suggests something of an equation of,communal prayei and institutional work. If this'vision of religious~life was on~ convincingly painted in the novi-ti~ ite, such an interlocking matrix of p~ra~,er and work seems' alien 'to many religiohs today. The loss c~f this vision may'6ccasi6n feelings of ~talgia for a vision now blurred and a rhythm of. activity now. disjointed. Yet before ~Cf. R. Faricy, "Change in the Apostolic Religious Life," RIR" 34 (1975), 413-414. for a description of the "demonasticization of,apostolates." Should individual aposto-lates be seen as the cutting edge of this centrifug~al movement away from monasti-cism? o ' 834 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume~ 35, 1976/6 indulging guilt4eelings ab'rut, visions lost, it would be well to ask whether the vision is worth recapturing at all . . The vision of religious life as harmonious integration of prayer and work seems to presuppose a double model: a sociological model of an agrarian society coupled with a theological model of a divinely regulated universe.6 While an agrarian model may seem medieval, perhaps the. proximate in-fluence is the American frontier ideal of the self-sufficient family farm. Questions of historical origin aside, an agrarian model seems more influen~- tial in religious.life than is commonly acknowledged. For example, most religious communities were originally founded within agrarian societies; more importantly, an agrarian ideal of .community seems to survive in the expectations, of many religious. Indeed, one may suspect that efforts to "return to the spirit of the founder" may on occasion be similar to the flight from urban life and its mounting frustrations: a yearning for :a simpler life may be nostalgia for the benefits of an agrarian society. Or again, the once common practice of establishing houses of frrmation in rural settings ("where religious life could be lived at its ideal"), reflects something of the ideal of a self,sufficient family farm. Examples could be multiplied; varia-tions on the agrarian model could be added (e.g., religious~ community as "cottage industry" or "ethnic village," etc.). It seems worth noting the similar melding ~of work and communal life that characterizes both agrarian societies and institutional apostolates. Fitting: neatly with an agrarian model of religious :communityqs a the-ological :model Of a well regulated universe: iu~t as the universe is har-moniously ordered in every detail by an inherent set.of laws enacted by a provident God, so too is the religious community harmoniously regulated in every detail by a set of rules provided by ~a diyinely guided founder and subsequently administered, by omniscient superiors.7 While this is blatant caricature, it should be-remembered that every caricature hits uncomfortably close to life¯ ¯ Both models have become theoretically untenable. The~ agrarian model ~;Many different models have been used to explain the transition from one vision or world-view to another: for example, T. Nuij, "New Forms of Community Life," R]R 32 (1973), 59-64, coniraSts commtlnity in primitive, rural or pre-technological, and technological or industrial cultures. Among the abundant literature on this transition, cf. T. O'Meara, Holiness and Radicalism in Religious Lile (New York~ 1972); G. Moran, The. New Community (New York, 1970); L. Schaller, hnpact o[ the Future and The Change Agent (Nashville-Ne~ Yo.rk, 1969 and 1972, respectively); R. Weg-mann, "The Catholic Clergy and Change," Cross Currents i9 (1969), i78-197. The well-known works of C. Reich, The Greet,ing o! America (New York, 1971) and A. Toffler, Future Shock (New York, 1970) offer additional models and numerous illustrations. rThe influence of another model, the church as institution; is also evident; on the advantages~ and.~ limitations of 'this and. other ecclesiological models, cf. A. Dulles, Models o[ the Church (Garden City, New York, 1974). !t would be helpful to have a similar analysis of models of religious life. ~ Individual A,postolates and Pluralism / 835 is_Ansufficient in view of the complexity of urban, technological soCiety, while the theological model of-a s~,stematically directed universe is inade- - quate in the face of historical consciousness and philosophical pluralism. Accordingly, neither of these models .provides a suitable framework for a vision, of religious life. Nbnetheless, there is one reason ~for their tengcious survival:¢ they undoubtedly furnish a sense of security. It is ~spiritually reassuring to devote one's entire day in a harmonious blend of prayer and work dedicated to God: could a fervent religious want more? For some religious, then, the h'armonious vision is quite satisfying. For others, othe ~vision may~be~ feeble, but they are willing to live with;incon-sistency, because they are unable or unwilling to search for a new vision. If~a few havediscovered a new vision, many others are still searching. Aside from the fact that it is far easier to criticize a vision-become-problematic than to construct a replacement, visions are elusive and difficult to verbal-ize. More than likely, discussions within a community do notdebate visions but center on practical issues: traditional procedures versus new approaches. It is tempting, for example; to treat individual apostolates merely as another practical problem. Yet touch'more is at stake: competing visions of com-munity and apostolate that stand at the heart of personal and corporate self-identity. Not surprisingly, the .response to new visions has been varied. First of all, some would prefer to re-upholster the traditional vision by discard-ing out-dated elements" and .super-imposing sundry modern touches. Change is then cosmetic: the superficial appearance is different, but the funda-mental vision remains the same. Nevertheless, there are definite ad-vantages to this approach: it affords cor~tinuity with the past--a matter of concern to older members; it accommodates itself to new circumstances.--- a mattef of importance for younger members; and it introduces, ch~inges gradually sb that there is sufficient time to become accustomed to one set of changes before more_ are introduced--a matter of expediency in all social changes. Yet such an option Carries with it a'notable liability: it relies on a vision that is basically unattractive and unacceptable to many. ~ ~ ¯ Nonetheless-, the right of a community to take this option must be respected, for it may be the only option that a particular community can really live with.8 To follow an out-dated vision may not be wise, but it need not be wrong.dn fact, the attempt to .jerk away an apparent Linus blanket from those committed to a traditional vision is likely to be disrup-tive of both community and apostolate? .Without arbitrarily precluding the o sit might be well to develop a declaration of rights for religious similar to Vatican II's Declaration on Religious Freedom. '~Th6 hazards of adopti0g a new vision are forcefully, though stridently, indicated by J. Hitchcock, The.Decline and Fall o~ Radical:~Cbtholicism (New York, 1971); with-out accepting his viewpoint, one can still~adna!t the need for facing straightforwardly his criticisms. 83b / Review for Religious, Vrlume 33, 1976/6 possibility of future change, a community may.decide very realistically and very,' honestly that its capacity for renewal can only accomplish so much at~a ~iven moment of its history. Communities that decide to retain a traditional vision of community and'apostolate would be well advised not to"eng~ge any of their members in,individual, apostolates that require a life-styl~ that'is basically incompatible with the community,s traditional, vision and thus 'threaten its ~corporate identity. The predictable resulr~'would be serious dissension that.:the, com~ mfihity .may not be prepared to bear:~Yet this need not imply that such communities need to exclude ever~ type of individual.apostolate; what is implied is that~each proposed individual apostolate must be carefully ex-amined for its concordance.with the community's self-vision and self-identity. ,, The Problem, of Pluralism : If the traditional vision is~unattractiw or untenable, what is the new vision of ~community and apostolate? The ~option would be simple~ if a compelling new vision were~ at hand;'then at least-the choice would be.~ clear-cut: traditional or new. Unfortunately there is no one unifying vision that demands acceptance. If it is quite clear that modern life is techno-logical not agrarian, pluralistic not uniform, it is not clear how such aspr'cts .can be synthesized in a new vision. Instead of one new vision, there are~ any number of competing visions--each with advantages~ all'with their respective liabilities. The way to the future seems tobe: may. the best vision win! It is then quite understandable why many religious prefer to hold on to the~ vision they have, whatever.its deficiencies, rather than risk'the vague uncertainties of some apparently more problematic replacement. It is equally understandable why many other religious tend to hedge their op-tions ,by tentatively exploring new possibilities, while keeping a firm'grasp on,a traditional vision. Still., just as a diversity of liturgical practices and theological viewpoints has emerged in. the post-conciliar Church, so a similar diversity in life-styles and visions of community and apostolate has emerged in post-conciliar religious life. This ~variety is rooted in a greater theological awareness of the diversity in the mystery of Christ, the uniqueness of each person, and the temporal and cultural plurality of mankind.~° Where formerly uniformity was prized,as exemplifying the uhity of the Church, now pliJralism is seen as reflecting the Church's catholicity. Yet if it is easy~to pay lip-service to pluralism, it is much more difficult ~°Cf. E. Carter, "Pluralism in Christian Life," R[R 31 .(1972), 22~26; K. Rahner~ "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Churchs' Professiono o~ Faith," Con~ cilium 46: 103.123; A. Dulles', "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem,'" 'Theological S~udies 29 (1968),~ 397-416 (reprinted in Dulles! The~'Survival ot Dogma [Garden City, New York, 1971], pp. 152-170). ,Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 837~ to cope consistently with its implications. For example, some religious have adopted new life-styles, but have not related these to a new vision; and vice versa, new visions 'have been officially adopted in constitutions and rules without subsequent implementation in a community. ~ More importantly, the transition from uniformity to pluralism is both threatening~and enticing. Those who were trained for, or are congenitally inclined to, a life of uniformity and regularity can be severely confused by a,superabundan~e of choices and°the burden of responsibility inherent in a pluralistic situation:~°For example, obedience seems to furnish an excuse for some religious to become over-dependent on their superiors; or vice versa, obedience seems to allow some superiors to pre-empt most decision-making from their subordinates. If some r~ligious pale at pluralism~ it may be the threat of responsibilities that they are unwilling or unable to, bear; similarly, if some ~superiors resent pluralism, it may be through unwilling-ness to share their authority with former subordinates. Another dismaying aspect of pluralism is the potential loss, of com-munity support-systems; when familiar practices vanish, religious ma~' feel themselves ostracized from the group or isolated in their work. Change ih any form is unsettling to creatures of habit, but clinging to a traditional pattern may result in isolation. Since the prospect of losing the respect and understanding of one's companions is~unnervihg, pluralism can prove to be just as formidable to younger religious as to older. In the case of the younger, ,it can be the refusal to adopt the ~vision currently in vogue among their peers. Yet if pluralism ig threatening; it is also attractive. In place of the enervating burden of predictable routine there is the prospect of flexibility and variety in both communal and ~ apostolic life. Religious life is more easily seen as a challenging opportunity for'personal initiative and creativity in the service of Christ. For example, obedience may be seen~ as a commit-ment to Christ that takes the form of submitting one's proposed activities tO the critical encouragement and the charismatic~ evaluation of one's col-leagues; authority is pr!marily that of competent advice; ultimate responsi-bility is one's own before Christ and community. But such a revised view of~ obedience has to be accepted, not ~ofily by the individual but by the community, which may have fo ask whether it can function with a number of different and divergent views of obedience. Another attractive aspect of pluralism is the atmosphere which~ the community provi~tes religious for developing their self-potefitial both in their lives as Christians and in ~their apostolates; this implies a willingness and openness in sharing insights and successes, failures and feelings; in-deed, the diversity of apostolates undertaken by their colleagues can be-c~ me an incentive for religious to Work at~maximum capacity. The preceding contrast exemplifies some of the positive and negative aspects of pluralism. The examples may also help explain why individuals 838 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 react quite differently to the prospect of pluralism: some feel threatened; others are attracted; still others would like to have the advantages of both uniformity and pluralism without the liabilities of either.11 Insofar as pluralism seems to have emerged within religious life more as the result of a series of individual decisions and external trends than through precise planning for pluralism, its implications need attention. Earlier, pluralism in religious life tended to exist more as a collective phe-nomenon: different communities constituted a diversified spectrum of "catholic" religious life, but any one community tended to occupy only a section of this spectrum; each community enjoyed a fairly well specified corporate apostolic identity. The importance attached to this identity-via-apostolate is illustrated by the fact that some communities (even when personnel was available) refused to undertake certain apostolates, as incompatible with their constitutions; as a result, some communities originated as off-shoots of others, when a new apostolate was needed which the parent community felt unable to enter. "Of course, some communities have always allowed greater internal diversity than others. For example, if some communities have restricted their endeavors to one or two specific apostolates, others have undertaken a variety. At first sight, individual apostolates appear to be simply an exten-sion of this variety. And in fact, this seems to be the way most individual apostolates have come about: superiors have allowed individual religious to accept experimental apostolates as exceptions to accustomed practices. In fact, these exceptions have gradually reached the point in some com-munities- where a comparatively high percentage of members is involved; in some instances, proportionately more members are now in individual apostolates than are in some traditional ones. In effect, the exceptions appear to be constituting a new rule, though there is not always a new vision to accompany it. Thus, the introduction of individual .apostolates may precipitate a re-orientation of a community's self-vision and self-identity. In other words, individual apostolates seem to imply the acceptance of a plurality of visions, only some of which are com-patible with traditional vision(s). The basic question then is: to what extent is a community really willing to accept the implications of pluralism? Practical Options A community's Vision of its apostolate(s) is a vital element in its cor-por. ate identity; presumably its apostolic vision is an important factor in attracting, applicants ,and in training younger membersi presumably too, 11The reaction of any person to pluralism seems to involve a number of intertwined factors--personality, intelligence, education, age, occupation, etc.--so that it is im-possible to predict an individual's receptivity.to pluralism. Nor is receptivity~ merely a matter of age; the contrast "traditional-pliJralistic" is not identical with older versus younger~ Also, one may doubt whether it is possibl6 'to foster pluralism simply through instruction~ Individual Apostolates and Pluralism /839 apostolic vision is an essential motivation for the special spirit and dy-nainism of a community. Moreover, apostolic vision is necessary if a community is to avoid being victimized by the needs of the moment and to pla.n its activities on a long range basis. It is crucial, then, for a com- ~iinity to delineate its apostolic vision as clearly as possible, while recog-nizing that every option involves risk.1~ ,~ first option is for a community to continue its institutional aposto-late( s) as~ its primary and (probably) exclusive commitment. Presuming of course that its institutions are really viable, the most-compelling motive for this option can be found in the fact that this is what the membership recognizes as its proper charism and commits itself to do. The evident risk is that this option is not particularly appealing to those who want to work in a more personalized setting; thus, recruitment of new members and dis-satisfaction among present members could well be problems. Moreover, this option may yield to the temptation to abandon the struggle to live a religious life in the modern pluralistic world. The polar-oppbsite' is the option to make individual apostolates the primary and presumably exclusive emphasis in a community.~As a means of responding to challenges facing the Church in the modern world, thisop-tion presupposes considerable flexibility in community structures as well as Considerable self-reliance on the~part of individual religious. These pre-sumed strengths may be dissipated through excessive individualism on the one hand or through lack of traditional support-systems on. the other. While a few commuriities," or at least some segments .of communities, appear to be headed in the direction of this option, what may really be at stake is the creation of new communities (even though the present may not seem a particularly auspicious moment for new found~tiofis). L oA compromise between these two options is the attempt to. juxtapose ¯ institutional and individual apostolates. In greater or less degree, this is theo~present option of many active communities in the United States. In-deeid, it seems to be a typical bit of American pragmatism for a community to allow its members to dream different visions, to work in diffe~rent settings, oani:l, yet to unite, together as members of one family. If such diversity defies theoretical alignment, American religious will presumably be content, as long as their community lives and works harmoniously, however diversely. Compromise will tend to succeed as long .as religious are genuinely tolerant of the inevitable tensions that diversity introduces. The unavoidable risk is that s'uch a compromise will become unglued for example, through a wide-spread failure to fulfill responsibilities both in apostolates and in religious life, through favoritism or factionalism introduced when one group attempts to impose its views on others, or through the difficulty of attracting new members to a pluralistic life. r-'Cf, the interesting interview with a superior,general, C. Buttimer, "Is Religious Life Viable Today?" America 128/4 (February 3, 1973), 86-90. 840 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 If compromise is to be successful, it is important for the members of a community~ explicitly to recognize the terms of the compromise. In other words, if the tensions arising from diversity in visions and a variety of life-styles are not to. be divisive, a community needs to recognize and to ,accept a spectrum of variant models of apostolic endeavor and of, community life. A community should specify the extent of pluralism that it is capable of tolerating. For example, some communities may be ,open to any type of individual apostolate; others may wish to restrict themselves~ tO select types. Without prior specification or evaluation, .there is potential for arbitrary decision-making, either real or imagined; there is also the likelihood of disillusionment among members if their expectations, ,whether realistic or idealistic, are :not met. (Disillusionment can affect both those who expect the traditional apostolates to be maintained, as well as~ those who, want ind~ividual apostolates to be introduced.) . ~ ~ The acceptance of pluralism should eventually. 'be expressed in bbth the constitutionS, which describe a community's aprstolic vision, and in the rules,~which attempt to concretize this vision in the life.of a community. Such, formulation is .a difficult endeavor, as the revisions undertaken after Vatican II amply confirm.13 Moreover, the emergence of individual aposto-lates adds to the.complexity: first, since the vision is pluralistic and personal, constitutions apparently can do little more than generalize about the limit-points of the pluralism that is acknowledged in principle~ secondly, if rules presumably reflect the lived experience of a community over a period of ¯ time, individual apostolates, in their present form, ar~ both recent and .still .experimental. Accordingly, .different communities may choose .to accept individual apostolates .in rather different ways. Some communities may find it feasible to consider tliem as extensions of existing apostolates; for example, a com-munity., whose apostolate is in education may decide to restrict the ac-ceptance of individual apostolates to educational endeavors. Other com-munities, which have defined their apostolates in terms of specific groups (e.g., poor,~ unevangelized, ethnic, etc.) may allow individual apostolates as a broadening of their ministry to these groups. Still other communities may encourage any~,type of new individual apostolate that displays some relation to witnessing Christ in the modern world.' At least as crucial as express recognitio,n of individual apostolates~ in :constitutions and rules is the way religious regard such formulations. For some, rules are principles that must be uniformly applied in partiCular in-stance. s; others would view rules as determinations that are to be supple-mented and emended according to actual experience. This contrast is given visual form,,in the first case, by those rules that are published in leather-l'~ Cf. J.l_~zano, "Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria, and Problems," R]R 34 (1975), 525-534. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 841 bound, red-edged volumes resembling miniature Bibles; in the second.case, rtiIes migtit well be mimeographed on loose-leaf sheets and placed in folders to facilitate periodic revision and up-dating. At least this illustration may indicate tha~t attempting to specify'rules for a diversity of individual aposto-lates is a ~tenuous enterprise. In addition, it suggests that traditional rules; however well suited to institutional apostol~ites, should not simply be used as .an umbrella to cover the new situations encountered in individual aposto-lates. Since uniform rules for individual apostolates tend to be anomalous in theory and impractical in"fact, it seems necessary for commuifities whose members are engaged in individual apostolates to develop new approaches: It may well bethat'a community may decide to'formulate guidelines for community or .procedures~for administration or standards .for~professional life for those members in individual apostolates. In so doing, a community will need to face squarely both the advantages and the draffbacks that are encountered in attempting to live and work with quite different 'types of apostolates and life-styles within tile same community. o In any pluralistic situation, it is obviously impossible to lis't all the variables; yet it may be helpful to saml~le a few problem areas: administra-tive procedures, community life, and personal freedom. Administrative Procedures In the halcyon days of institutional apostolates, administration .may have been tedious, but it f~equently had the advantage of following a,stan-dard pattern of applying general norms to particular cases. This '.view. of administration is inadequate for dealing with individual apostolates (and, it should be added, With most institutional apostolates as-well). On the one"hand, individual apostolates tend to elude uniform norms, unless these a~'e~,extremely general; on the other hand, individual apostolates necessarily change the roles of and relationship between superiors and subordinates; This change in, roles" is graphically illustrated by the religious who occa-sionally employed the provincial' superior on a part-time basis. A prime factor in the:reorientation of roles is the fact that in most indi- .vidual apostolates, religious .need a fair amount of latitude to negotiate with prospective employeis and that, ~once employed, their work is not under, the direct supervision of community superiors. As a result; a superior's role tends to be narrowed to antecedent approval (for it is frequently unfeasible, if not counterproductive, for a superior to become involved in negotiations) ¯ and subsequent ratification, which may,be tantamount to rubber-stamping a iait accompli. Some superiors may find this process quite congenial; they have plenty of other problems and are quite relieved if some religious can successfully pursue their individu~ apostolates without supervision. Other superiors may feel more or less frustrated at wanting .to be helpful yet not being needed or at wanting to give daily directives yet being powerless; they may subcon- Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 sciously resent the apparent diminution of their authority. All of these reactions manifest, a lack of appreciation of the change in roles in the superior-subordinate relationship. If it is unrealistic to expect to transfer a set of relationships en masse from institutional to individual apostolates, what then is the role of the superior in relation to religious in this context? First of all, a superior has to take seriously the individuality of each apostolate as well as the personality of each religious; in effect, each apos-tolate must be considered as a separate and somewhat unique case, just as each religious ~is a unique individual. Instead of applying general norms to individual cases, a reverse process is needed: whether and how general principles apply needs to be discovered through an evaluation of each apostolate. The latter task can only be carried out as a joint effort of supe-rior and subordinate, acting as colleagues. . Accordingly, the role of the superior is less a matter of issuing com-mands and more a matter of fostering dialogue, discernment, and discre-tion. 14 Dialogue is necessary if the superior is to understand different apos-tolates from the viewpoint of participant religious; though this does not necessarily imply that a participant's view is always the best, still it should at least be the point of departure for productive discussion. Discernment, in the sense of raising appropriate questions to evaluate the potential, and performance for an individual apostolate, must also be a joint endeavor if the merits and disadvantages of a particular apostolate are to be appreci-ated. Discretion, which aims at deciding on an appropriate course of action among a number of alternatives, should also be shared; it is pointless to impose a decision that one cannot or will not be implemented. Obviously, such an approach to community administration requires a more personal type of communication than may have been customary in the supervision of institutional apostolates. Where a large number of indi-vidual apostolates are involved, such an approach may require that super-visory responsibilities be divided among more than one superior. Effective use of such an approach demands that superiors be skilled in interpersonal communication; in practice, this may mean that other administrative tasks, such as financial management, may have to be delegated to others. If a new administrative approach is required for individual apostolates, no approach is a panacea. While a more personal approach may be more human and hopefully more productive, both superiors and subordinates should realize that there is no advance assurance that their discussion will prove fruitful: if ~dialogue can result in agreement, it also may make any disagreement painfully evident; if discernment can raise crucial questions, l~One of the reasons-that dialogue, discernment, and discretion have become m~ajor concerns in post-conciliar renewal is linked to increased recognition of religious as persons; an added reason for the importance of these means here is the individuality of apostolates. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 843 it may also end in self-contented deception; if discretion can aid in deter-mining appropriate action, it is also an arbitrary selection among alterna-tives. There is no method that as such will guarantee success. For example, one question that dispels any roseate vie

Issue 42.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1983. ; Revlt!w i:or RELIGIOUS {ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. Re\'lt~w vor REI.IGIOIJS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1983 by REVIEW FOR REI,IGIOIJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years, Other countries: add $2.00 per year {postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:vtr:w ].on Rl.:l.l(;IOtlS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Nov./Dec., 1983 Volume 42 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~-:vlt:w t-on Rt.:tA(;toOs; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to ,Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rt-:\'t~.:w t-'ou Rt.:l.~;tous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. °'Oul of print" issues and articles nol published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Religious Life: The Mystery and the Challenge John R. Quinn This is the address delivered by Archbishop Quinn (of San Francisco) at the annual assembly of the Leadership Conference of Religious Women in~ Baltimore on August 16, 1983. I~ast spring, Archbishop Quinn was named to head the pontifical commission established to facilitate the p~istoral contribution of bishops to religious life in the United States. ' ~" You have honored me by asking that i speak With you. For the Church recognizes in your lives as religious the continuation of the poverty, the chastity, and the obedience of Christ. What is more: in and through your lead.ership, thousands of your sisters are in this rbom with~us this morning, present through the care you have for the consistency and holiness of their unique form of Christian living, and present because of their choice that you should bear the profoundly sacred responsibility of leadership amon~ the~m. It is no light burden that you carry. The future and the integrity of American religious life lies greatly under the influence of your own liyes: your own union with God, your own humility and integrity, your courage and vision will tell historically upon your communities. The mystery of your lives is inextricably bound up with the mystery of the lives of the sisters whom you love and whom you serve in this ministry. I.t is finally one mystery: a form of life in which Christ is followed with such intensity and at such a level of renunciation that to follow becomes to imitate him concretely and historically in his chastity, his poverty, and his obedience even to the death of the cross. The gravity and the demands of this leadership of communities towards a life of holiness would be hard to exaggerate. That is why you honor .me by asking me to speak with you about it. I know that you have asked me to b~ with you today because the pope has appointed me Pontifical Delegate to head a special commission of three 801 11119 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 bishops whbse task ist9 foster the pastoral service bishops are to offer Ameri-can religious. In a lengthy interview that many of you have read, I have already commented upon'this appeal of the Holy Father to the bishops and on the constitution of a joint group of bishops and religious. Rather than repeat those remarks I should like to extend them, but only in the context of the mystery of religious life'andthe history of American religious over the past twenty years. ~ You know that I am n.o expert in these matters, but what I think, I put before you as an i~nvitation to youi~ own reflections. I hope ,that these remarks will ~mplify several important subjects touched upon in the interview. My reflections then, fall into four parts: --The vision which the Church possesses of religious life --The Paschal MYStery as religious have experienced it in the past twenty years --The papal appeal to the bishbps of the United States --The papal charge to this Episcopal Commission with its Committee of Religious. The Vision, Which the Church Possesses of Religious Life ~, I make n'~ apologies for beginning with the call that the Church recognizes as yours. It alone provides the context or the horizon in which an, y other aspect of religious life can be evaluated or discussed. It is not that religious alone are called to holiness. You know that all Christians are called to holiness. But religious are called to that holiness which consists in a total consecration to God expressed in the unique continuation and embodiment of his life of poverty, chastity and~obedience: not to copy it, but to imitate it--that is to transpose it into the situation of the twentieth .century--so that this form of life would not die within the ChurCh, that it would be a continual reminder to the entire Church, in as public a witness as possible, of the holiness to which every Christian ig ~alled. Not every Christianis called to leave father and mother, husband and wife, children and relatives, to abandon personal property and private career, arid to follow Christ in the direction of one's life as that voice is concretized in the Church and in this given community of disciples. But every ~Christian is called to that detachment and love which give an.absoluie priority to Christ as the communication of God, and the public vows~of religious are. a constant, sacramental reminder of this absolute claim that Christ makes upon us all. Religious life is essentially sac~:amental in the sense that it is an explicit, historical and tangible manifestation of the victorious grace of God emerging to its completion in human signs and actions. And we can never really under-stand it except as sacramehtal. It'is classically true that every human being has to struggle for her integrity, not simply in the sense that a commitment to the truth is' alwayg costly, but in the more basic sense of keeping some consistency, some focus in her life that gives unity to everything else, that makes sense out of'diversity. What is true for the individual is also true of a religious community or a way of life. The Religious Life: The Mystery and the Challenge / 1103 demands~upon your time, the conflicting claims for your attention, are infinite and sometimes irreconcilable. Not that~anyone of them is illegitimate, but that all of them together constitute an impossibility. The expectations in which a religious community lives can be multiple, endless and even mutually contra-dictory. One can feel surrounded and fragmented by their press, wondering at the end of a busy day what was actually accomplished, seemingly more react-ing ~to incessant demands that peacefully moving through them with a cumulative sense of purpose, even beginning to wonder in her darker moments if this way of living has any value or has kept its meaning. A religious or even an entire community can feel eroded, burnt out, because one cannot meet all the demands, and what slips away almost imperceptibly is the vision that makes sense even of the frustration. It is simply imperative for a religious--as ~for any human being with a serious Christian vocation--to have a fundamen-tal focus for her way of life, one that is not negotiable, one in terms of which everything else is negotiated. So the Church over and over again reminds religious what they are for" the whole Church, the vision and the call that is theirs:~you are those consecrated by the call of God to follow C.hrist in the mystery of the Church by continuing his chastity, his poverty, and his obe-dience for the sake of the kingdom of God. It is an enormous gift that is yours, and it is a gift for the whole Church. The P~schal Mystery as Religious Have Experienced It in the Past Twenty Years Sisters, 1 know that these have been hard and demanding years since the Vatican Council. The opportunities have been glorious and the achievements of your communities have been obvious and remarkable--but at what an enormous cost! Let me speak a bit about the history of the past twenty years. One of the staggering parts of this cost over these years has been the, numi~rical diminishment of the congregations of American sisters. Following the direction of .the Council and in obedience to subsequent papal documents such as Ecclesiae Sanctae, enormous efforts were brought to.bear in a sincere and seriously considered move to renew and adapt religious life in light of worldwide cultural transformation and in,the spirit of the Church. Yet .this tremendous enterprise was followed by striking numerical disintegration. Where no~,itiate classes had been thirty, now there were three--if any at all. Convents and institutions were closing all over the nation. The average age of the sisters was going up steadily. Some of the elderly began to fear that there would be no one around to take care of them, while tens of thousands were either leaving or had already left for possibilities and for a future which seemed to them more secure and more promising. You and many other religious may have lived with a sinking sense of :loss as close friends with whom you shared this form of life left. At the same time American sisters were exposed to an unprecedented level of misrepresentation and. attack from both the right and the left. Sisters who had for so long lived as the object of an almost uncritical 1104 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 awe within ~he Church, now were exposed to two implacable critics:~ shrill accusations that their catechetics were destroying the Church, that their every change was a betrayal of their heritage, that they had become worldly, com-promised women who deserve their own~decline; or from the left came the arched suggestions that religious life could only attract the sexually stunted, the sociall3~ and economically insecure, an unenlightened and declining rem-nant from a dated Church. There are the recent plays-on Broadway that dismiss them as unsophisticated fanatics and some "Catholic~' publications make a practice of continual harping criticism exaggerating every conflict out of all ~proportion. There are circles in which to be a woman religious today is to walk into an atmosphere of the joke half-told, of suspicion or unconscious arrogance, sometimes on the part of clerics, bf the question t.hat waits for no answer, of the unrelenting and constant demand for justification. ~ As in every, o~fier group, priests or lay people, so among religious there arr, no'doubt, some who give foundation for justifiable criticism and concern. But, Sisters,--you who are present here today, and otliers who are not with us at this meeting--you hav~ sustained the cost of these years and nothing you have accomplished, no matter how great and obvious, matches what you hay6 accomplished in living in fidelity to your vocation through these difficult years of tensions from outside sources as well as from internal divisions, misunder-standings, and polarizations. Indeed, many faithful American women reli-gious, and not the least those in positions of responsibility, truly passed through a profound experience of the Paschal Mystery. 1 suspect that this experience has yet to register in all its valence within the reflection of American religious. You will find any number of works that counsel religious to count their gifts and number the aptitudes they bring to the Church. This 'is certainly sound advice. But there is very little written about the collective experience of entering into the rejection and humiliations and loss that configured many of you with the Passion--and even less about how profound a fulfillment this experience is of the vocation that is yours, the public witness to the whole Church of the life and de~tiny of Christ.' . When Victor Frankl reflected upon the horror of hi~ experience "of Auschwitz and Dachau, he summarized his own survival with a single line from Nietzsche, that those who have purpose and vision can bear with alrriost any manner of existence: "The person whohas a why to live for, can bear with almost any how.''2 There is a clear and profound sense~of identity in many American religious born of prayer, faith, and a~deep love for the Church, which has enabled them to live through these years of deflated expectations and even searing personal disappoinment. And that identity lies with their configuration to Christ. The great Saint Mechtild of Magdeburg, speaking of a single person, wrote what hasobeen the history of a number of religious con-gregations during thesepast twenty years: ~God leads his chosen children on extraordinary paths. This is an extraordinary path Religious Ltfe: The Mystery and the Challenge A noble road And a sacred way. Go~d himself has trod it.-~ And so it is true that these years, difficult though they have been, have been rich in their accomplishments and productive as religious community after religious community, responding to the challenge of the Council, moved into structures that were more lifesgiving and into more mature forms of commu-nity. In many ways over these years, American women religious found them-selves coming of age, an experience of resurrection. Many American women religious have deepened their lives of prayer, their social compassion for suffer-ing and exploitation, their sense of the international mission of' the Church. Granted that all this is true, still the question must be asked: What is the soui'ce of this new depth if it is not both the Church from which the challenge cam~, and what American women religious have endured and suffered during these twenty years? Our experience of the Resurrection emerges from the experience of the Passion. The life of authentic Christians has always combined them: ". that 1 might know Christ and the power of his resurrection and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that~if possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead" (Ph 3:10-11). That is why l, believe it is excessive to see in the present, as some do, "the cluster of the signs of breakdown in virtually all communities." It is my conviction that. we must keep clearly before our minds the great and moving words of Pope John XXHI'~at the opening of the Council: In the daily exercise of our pastorai office, we sometimes have tO listen, much to our regret, to voices of persons who, though burning with zeal, are not endowed with too much sense of discretion or measure. In these modern times they can see nothing but~, prevarication and ruin. They Say that our era, in co.mparison with past eras, is getting worse, and they behave as though they had learned nothing from history, which is. nonetheless, the teacher of life. They behave as though ~t the time of former Councils everything was a full triumpl~ for the Christian idea and life and for proper, religious liberty. We feel we must disagree with those l~rophets of gloom, who are always forecasting disaster, as though the end of the world were at hand. In the present order of thi,ngs, Divine Providence" is leading us to a new order of human relations which, by humanity's own'efforts and even beyond their very expecta-tions, aredirected toward the fulfillment of God's,superior and inscrutable designs. And everything, even human differences, leads to the greater good of the Church.4 Certainly, then, the "numerous defections and decreasing n~mber of new members" cannot be denied.5 But if you understand religious life as this pro-found imitation of Christ and share the ma'rvelous vision~of faith articulated by Pope John; then rejection or abandonment or crisis or pain or threat a?e just a breakdown, but also for those who live by faith a more profound entering into the meaning and identity of religious life. Juliana of Norwich put it very simply: "So was our'Lord Jesus afflicted for us; and we all stand in this way of suffering with him, and shall' till we come to his bliss.''6 This is really the second' point I want to make. If religious life is a pi~rsi.stent 1106 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 and public reminder to the Church of the life of Christ, then the drastic numerical decline and threatened extinction of some religious communities is not something completely outside of that witness but within it. Yes, "history is the teacher of life." Each time religious life has entered into this night that can be so dark--the Reformation and the French Revolution come to mind--it has risen from suppression, persecution and virtual extinction with a deeper ecclesial sense and stronger and more effective than before. For example, when Mother St. John emerged from the prison of St. Didier in 1794,.she rebuilt with new resilience from the Terror of the French Revolution the Sisters of St. Joseph. BuLdoes anyone think that her years of suffering in prison had nothing to do with forming this "strong-souled woman to whom the commu-nity owed its regeneration?" Mary Ward, foundress of the Institute of Mary, i~ndured the" condemnation of her community and even imprisonment in Munich,,but her religious genius and her deep faith finally prevailed and continues to influence the formation of communities even through our time. In her last letter to Antonio Filicchi, the dying Elizabeth Ann Seton wrote: "Could you but know what. has happened in consequence of the little, dirty grain of mustard seed you planted by God's hand in America!"7 For the seed to grow, it had to pass into the death that ffas the end of her marriage, the violence which followed her conversion, the endless and seemingly hopeless contradictions, the betrayal of friends, the death of those very dear to her and the shameless indifference of her son, William. All of these lived by faith and had an unshakable fidelity to the Church. In their story each religious com-munity could trace a similar history from its own tradition. You and I both know that the religious accomplishments of the two previous centuries devel-oped from beginnings that were desperate in their poverty or persecution, ridden with the forebodings of some, but fostered by a few religious women of profound, courage, integrit~ and endurance. The successes were not in spite of the suffering any more than we are saved in spite of the Cross. In the myste-rious working of providence, one actua!!y leads ~nto the other.8 This, then, is my keyto understandingmiach that religious have undergone over these years of renewal. Constitutions, chapters, serious analysis, arduous discernment, regrouping of forces, creative efforts at experiment--a!l of these had done what they could. But that they would have.their effect, God gifted them with the cross, brought them into communion with the passion of the Lord. I am obviously not saying that the past twenty years have been absolved from mistakes and eLrors. That would be tO parody my remarks. It would be Sheer fantas.y to imagine that !.n times so complex such far-reaching efforts at a renewal of such magnitude could go forward without some mis't~kes and perhaps some of serious proporti0~ns here an,d there. But What I am saying is that thrgugl~ it all, you have sought to be faithful to the call of the Lord and. you want to love him and serve him in his Church fo.r.~t, he gl0rY of the Fath.er. It isin the Paschal Mystery, in fidelity in the face of Religious Ltfe: The Mystery and the Challenge / 807' suffering, that all human efforts are purified and all human faults and .failings are healed and all things that are ours are gathered by their resurrection into God. The renewal of all religious realities is only through the passion. This is how I see the mystery of your religious life and it is the light in which I read the past twenty years. It provides the religious context in which ! see the task to.which the Holy Father has called the American bishops: "To render special Tpastoral service to the religious of yoiar dioceses and your country., to assist them in every way possible to open wide the doors of their heart to .the Redeemer." The Papal Appeal to the Bishops of the United States So now let me pass to the papal response both to what you are and what you have undergone. To understand the action of the Holy Father, we must attend to an event which has been given great significance in Rome but not yet grasped suffi-ciently everywhere: the anniversary of our redemption. In the mystic symbol-isms and approximations by which we number the centuries, one thousand nine' hundred and fifty, years ago the great Paschal Mystery of Christ took place, the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus by which the world is justified, sanctified 'and saved. To underline this moment as we move toward the third millennium, the pope proclaimed the extraordinary Holy Year, the Jubilee of our Redemption. This action of the pope was profoundly and religiously~serious. Christ as Redeemer hhs been a theme of his preaching and his pontificate, and it formed the subject of his first encyclical. Through this Year of Jubilee, he is calling the whole Church to live more intensely",the central, human-divine event which gives it meaning. It would be impossible to understand many papal initiatives this year unless the centrality and urgency Of the Redemption is grasped. ~ It is within that context that he calls religious especially to renewal. Not just religious. The call is to the whole Church. But especially religious. And why? Because of this eyent,, the redemption of the entire human race by'the action of God in Jesus Christ, they are both witness :and intermediary. They are both signs to the wdrld of what Jesus Christ has done in human life--as they continu6 in a.following of him that becomes a profound configuration-- and they are means, instruments, by which this redemption of Christ reaches into this Holy Year and into this nation. What the pope is saying is simply staggering in its implications: That the .redemption which Christ offers will have its presence in our'times and its efficacy determined in great part .by th'e quality of holiness, of union with God, in the lives of religious. The religious either augments~or limits the effective mercy of God ,within her culture. .~ This is not an abstract statement of speculative theology; it is a concrete reading of what religious have become for the Church. Look at your own personal histories. For many persons whose religious gifts developed at an early age, the most influential persons in their lives,were those women religious I~'01~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 whose insightful goodness and care touched their lives more formatively than either was aware of. Look at contemporary Catholic challenges to the social structures of our nation or at the repeated efforts to ref6rm catechetics or at the person who is often among the most resourceful in parish ministry or at the person from whom people spontaneouslyexpect a quality of sympathy and understanding unavailable elsewhere--and you will very often find the Ameri-can sister. In general,'the ,history of our Church in the United States shows religious women to have lived lives of f.rugality and prayer, or persistent service to others even at enormous pers6nal cost and of providing support for those . who needed that support whether this was in education, in medical care or in social works. To cite the papal letter, "Woi'king towards th~ establishment of justice, love, arid peace, they helped to build a. social order rooted in the Gospel. striving to bring generation after generation to the maturity of Christ." To read our historv is to find the American nun at its center, both as a sign and as the~channel ot~ the Redemption. The contemporary reflection upon religious life is just beginning to assimi-late what has been the actual place of religious in the Church for centuries, certainly the Church in the United States. It has been.a theological common-place to say of the bishop or of the priest who" assists him agit in persona ecclesiae, that he acts in the name of the Church, that he represents the Church. Now increasingly~ this is being said of the religious, that the religious represents the Church. But this is just theology catching up with what the average Ameri-can Catholic has always known. The bishop represents the Churchzin its unity, its unity of doctrine, of communion, and of sacramental life. To see the bishop is tobe reminded of this unity whose source is the Spirit of God and which is made real by communion with the Successor of Peter. But the religious repre-sents the Churchqn its evangelical holiness. The Church is not only realized in their lives, but witnessed by these lives. What Teresa of Avila said of herself, "1 die a daughter of the Church." was extended by the great Elizabeth Seton to her daughters in almost her last words to them: "I am thankful, Sisters, for your kindness to be present in this trial. Be children of the Church, be children of the Church."9 It is not that Teresa of Avila 0r~the S~sters of Charity are the only daughters of the Church. All religious by the public witness of their lives are a reminder of that ecclesial discipleship to which we are all called. The religious is not.the only one who represents ~n public witnessthe holiness of the Church, but she is the one who does in this unique way through the open, countercul/ural profession of~the evangelical poverty, chastity, and humble o6edience of Christ. When the Church talks about the public,witness of religious life. this is what she is talking about: not that presentat.ion or witness proper to, the Church,in its hierarchy, but the visible manifestation of the Church,,in its holiness. Just as the unity of the Church is not simply for the bishops but for all the disciples of Christ. so the holiness of the Church is hot just for religious but for all of the disciples of Christ. But it is crucial for the Church that both its unity and its holiness be strongly represented to all, and Religious Life: The Mystery and the Challenge that is why we have both a hierarchy and religious life. Another way of putting thee same point is the pa.pal statement: "By their very vocation, religious are intimately linked to the Redemption. By their consecration to Jesus Christ, ,they are a sign of the redemption that he accomplished. In the sacramental economy of the Church, they are instruments for bringing, this redemption to the People of God." What, then, has the pope asked of the bishops? He has called upon all the ,bishops of the United .States to place themselves at the pastoral service of 0the religious ~ftheir diocese. Let me be more specific. You know, far better than I, that since Perfectae Caritatis and Ecclesiae Sanctae, the religious in the Ufiited States have engaged in an intensive period of renewal. General chapters have been held which took this as their principal object. Constitutions have been revised, and these general laws of religious institutes submitted to the Holy See for confirmation. National unions of the major superiors of men"and women have been formed or have been strengthened .and now flourish. New forms of rdeulcigedio iunst oa naldm aocsatd eevmeriyc afopromstaotliioc°n raenldig oiof ums icnois,ntegrrieagl atrtiaoinni.n Tgh heasve ec.hbaeneng eisn thraov-e exacted great expenditures of energy and time, i~nd have found their fulfill-ment many times in a deepening,of prayer, apostolic creativity, and the sharing of life that characterizes re_ligiotis communities. The question that religious have had to deal with, the central one according to the distinguished Jesuit theologian, Father Thomas E. Clarke, S.J., has been this issue: "How are we to disengage Christian faith from the time-bound cultural expressions and vehicles of the past without a loss of integrity? This is indeed the question at the heart of the anguish, tensions, and polarizations, cha.racteristic of a period . which has turned out to be as much a new Passion as a new Pentecost. No group in the Church, has had to deal with the question with greater seriousness than members of religious communities, and particularly of .American com-munities of religious women.''~0 Father Clarke wrote those lines some ten years ago, and without attempting a defense or an evaluation of each one of them, I think it would be fair to say that these last ten years have continued this experience: the effort to articulate a form of life.that is evangelical in its public ecclesial consecration yet American in the inculturation of this consecration. As this period of "special' ,experimentation" comes to its.close--the period, that is, in which new constitutions wer.e drafted, the Holy Father has asked the Ameiican bishops to enter int~ this process in order to support and to second the genuinely heroic efforts of the religious to strengthen and renew their communities. How are the bishops to do this?' The pope speaks generically of aiding religious in every way possible and lists seven particular ways in which this generic support can be realized~ If I had to summarize all seven, 1 would do it with a~ single word: communication. The bishops are to communicate to the whole Church, by preaching and catechesis, on the nature of religious life and, more particularly, on the link between a religious vocation and the love of God I~10 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 for each and every religious. The bishops are to communicate sacramentally and liturgically with religious; they are-to extend and support the invitations to renewal, in solidarity with the bishops and the faithful; "in th'ose cases, tob,' where individuals or groups, for whatever reason, have departed from the indispensable norms of religious life,~or have even, to the scandal of the faithful, adopted positions at variance with the Church's teaching;~" they are "to proclaim once again the Church's universal call to conversibn, spiritual renewal and holiness." The bishops are to communicate with religious in a mutual, program of work to be established by the Episcopal Com~nission of which I have been appointed Papal Delegate'and which has been strengthened ~by an appointment of a Committee of Religious to act in concert with them. Finally, the bishops are to communicate thrir findings to the Holy Father on the occasion of their ad limina visits this year. It is only in this context that we can ask ourselves the genuinely hard questions which bear upon the future of religious life in the United States. One question which the pope singles out as of immense concern: Why this drastic numerical decline? And under ~his question, perhaps the most important issue: Why are so very few American" wom~n and men interested in becoming reli-gious today? What does that say about our national character, about our Church, and about religio~as life itself?, ls tl~ere any truth in the diagnosis of religious life made by the authors of Shaping the Coming Age of Religious L,fe that the "crises set in from within religious life due to the loss of identity and the inroads of the secularizing process"?.~1 Finally,"it must be asked whether we bishops and priests have been of sufficient sensitivity to the issues which contextualize religious life in the United States. All of these and other important issues can be addressed fruitfully if they are asked by bishops hnd religious together, and asked in such peace and mutual trust that they admit of answers rather than with the kind of accusatory rage that inhibits any ability to answer anything~ These are profound issues on which We must communicate. They touch on~a problem that is common to us all yet larger than any of us, and we expect to be mutually challenged by them. For it isTnot only the problem that is common to us all, but the process as well. It is one we can only address together. Why this insistence~upon communication? Because there has been too little of it. Historically, any proces~ of renewal and any prrcess of inculturation has been opento misrepresentation, misunderstandings, and mistakes. I could take examples from the history of dogma, from the history of rites and ritual, but let me take them from the history of religious life itself. For decades the mendicant orders lay under the suspicion that their form of life was not canonically religious because they were not confined to a monastery. The foundation of the Society of Jesus was opposed ~ because this order did not engage in the choral office and admitted some members whose vows were not solemn. There was enormous opposition tO the original p~ovisions of Angela Merici despite the solemn approval.of Paul HI and these provisions eventually Religious Life: The Mystery and the Challenge gave way" to conventual life and monastic enclosure. The original plans of St. Francis de Sales and St. Jane Frances de Chantal that the Visitation Would be a congregation in which only simple vows would be pron.ounced and~visiting the sick would be the special work of its members also yielded to solemn vows and enclosure. ~But eventually the indulturatiori of active orders of women religious did occur, and they dominated, the extraordinary evolution of reli-gious life in the' nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Iriculturation is an' e~i-gency of the incarnation. It is an indispensable condition for the developmefit and vitality of the Church, and it is inevitably attended by its Share of divisions and struggles and even by mistakes;~2 But if these inevitable struggles are exacerbated by arrogance or impatiencei by the attribution of false motivation or by party interests, then disintegration or alienation result. Attempts at inculturation die only when .communication is stilled, and that is why I wel-come the efforts of the Holy Father to foster commu.nication in all of its forms. For over'the past twenty years as you moved throu~,h this period of experimentation, your partners in dialogue have been the members of your own congregation and other congregations. Now what the Holy See is asking for, is an extension .of this dialogue to a larger group, to the bishops and to the Church as a wh61e. For there is much incomprehension here, either about what the religious "have accomplished or why they have gone in the directions they have chosen, as well as some confusion about what the Church has been asking of religious since the Council. Through the bishops, the religious orders can engage all of the Church in this renewal of religious life: those whom they serve, those with whom they serve, and the bishops in union with the pope whose ministry it is to confirm and validate this service. There is no question.that inculturation carrieso its own dangers. For instance, the adoption.of Stoic and Neo-Platonic terminology during the patristic period, terms.with such .far-reaching implications and ambiguity as apatheia as used by Clement and Origen,-or the eons, nous and the five fundamental gnoses of Evagrius Ponticus, all these seriously endangered the entire monasticmovement.13 1 doubt further if anyone would care to resurrect the secular military ac{ivity of the Templars as an appropriate work for reli-gious: So also today. There is always a danger of having religious life become coopted as just another version of the American way of life,and the challenge given both by the traditions of the order and by the judgments of the Holy See are necessary and critically important if religious are to embody the essentials of religious'life in an American setting effectively'and authentically. This question has been with us since John Ca~ rroll; and, it is not surprising that it continues to be with us now. It is inevitable inca Church so ~universai and with" cultures and perspectives that are so divergent, That is why this extension of the dialogue is so critical, both to explain the achievements of the past twenty years but also to receive serious, supportive, and critical challenge. For there is a healthy and continual dialectic which is always at work within the Church: between the Gospel and its cultural expression, between 1t19 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 authority and prophecy, between the unity of the Church and its manifold cul-tural forms.,And the life of the Church can never be won by suppressing one or another of these moments or by an impatienl destruction of the very pro-cess. All organic foi'ms ofqife consist in a sustained balance between various and seemingly contradictory elements. Yet if they are seen by faith and in their historic interactions, they do not contradict one another but at a deeper level support one another. Thus Freud maintains that the desire to live without ten-sions the desiie to live in unchallenged comfort--is actually a disguised form of the death wish. The tension of balanced contradictions is essential to life. Bul tension does not necessarily make for life. it can also be a destructive disinteg~:ation of life. The difference lies with living faith and wiih communica-tion. Does this moment of tension open to a deeper communication or to the closing of all communication? Th'e Papal Char~g~e to This Episcopal Commission with Its Committee of Refigious , And this brings me to the fourth point ! wish to regmter~. Forethis is the reason that the Holy Father has ~not only sent a letter to the~American bishops, but has established an Fpiscopal Commission to aid'thd bishops in their service of religious and to analyze the reason for the decline in religious voca-tions. For each of these tasks. ,the Holy Father has challenged the Commission to ~work in close collaboration with American religious, to profit fromtheir experience and to assimilate their insights. To facilitate this,communication, I have appointed a Committee of Religious who will work with the Commission of Bishops in a collaborative effort to foster and to encourage religious life in any way that is open for us. We will also be ,consulting experts in various disciplines not'represented on our committee such as psychology, sociology, anthropology and history. Eurther. I have sent a letter to the Presidents of the ICWR. CMSM. and NCCB asking for any suggestions these groups might have to further this work. All of us have something to learn from one another, and the~papal initiative provides an occasion for this mutual ministry. It would be unrealistic to expect of this renewed ef~'ort at communication that.~all disagreements would cease and all misunderstandings be erased. There are too many differences in cultural background, in religious life-history, and even in the critical perspectives on contemporary issues. However, what we can achieve and what owe.must be seeking is reverence and respect for one another, a compassion for'mutual suffering, the building of a sense of trust, and the comprehension, of an underlying common mission in the Church. and from the ~Church. and for the Church as portrayed in all its doctrinal richness in Lumen Gentium. What wi~ can pray for is that we may all.find a continually greater degree of freedom from harsh judgments and stereotyping, irrespecuve of what misunderstandings remain to be,eliminated But how very difficult this will be, Sisters. to.touch the skelsticism.and the anxiety, the suspicions and the misunderstandings that have woven themselves into the fabric of~our,histories Religious Ltfe:, The MysterZ and,the Challenge over the~se years. Whatever their causes, they have become part of its texture and seem indistinguishable from our expectations and hopes. They inhibit communication and they inspire the most pejorative reading of motives while the m~mories of past wrongs rise periodically to reinforce their presence. But what is stronger, please God, is what we share together. For if members of the Church cannot work together to reconcile our histories and our differences, how could we possibly preach forgiveness and reconciliation to a world whose checkered histories and whose differences beggar those in the Church by, comparison. It is patient and loving work that we are about to do together, but your president has wisely written: "Reconciliation is the patient and loving'weaving of threads of tension into a peaceful background in which the Spirit is free to irfiprint the design."14 May this Spirit then be, ~with us in our work. In hope for this new phase of our history we pray with the Psalmist: You will guide me with your counsel and afterwards you will receive me into glory. Who have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing upon earth that I desire in comparison with you. My flesh and my heart may fail But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever (Ps 73:24-26). And so, To him whose power no~ at work in us can do more than we ask or imagine--to him be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever. Amen (Ep 3:20-21), NOTES ~For the understanding of religious life which pervades this address', see the recent document of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Seculaf Institutes, Essential Eleme'nts in the Church's Teaching on Religious Ltfe as Applied To Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate, May 31, 1983. This document is itself a "clarification and restatement" of the Church's teaching on the essential elements of religious life. This prior teaching has been articulated in the documents of the Second Vatican Council, especially Lumen Gentium, Perfectae Caritatis, and Ad Genres, in the Apostolic Exhortation Evangelica Testificatio of.Pope Paul VI, in the address of Pope John Paul II. and in the documents of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, especially, Mutuae Relationes, Religious and Human,~'Promotion, and The Contemplative Dimension of Religious l_Jfe, and in the new Code of Canon Law. Essential Elements is the latest attempt 9f the Holy See to fulfill the mandate enunciated by Lumen Gentium: "Church authority ha,s ,the duty, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, of interpreting these evangelical counsels. of regulating their practice, and finally of establishing stable forms of living according to them~ (n. 42). ~Victor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning, translated by llse Lasch (New York: Simon and Schuster. 1962), pp. xi, 76, and 104. 3See H. A. Reinhold (ed.), The Soul Afire: Revelation of the Mystics (New York: Pantheon 814/ Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 Books, Inc., 1951), p. 206. 4Walter A~bbott, S.J., and J. Gallagher, The Documents of l/atican II. An Angelus Book (Guild Press, 1966), pp. 712 and 713. 5~awrence Cada, S.M., et ai, Shaping the Coming A~e of Religious Ltjre.~A Crossroad Book (NewWork: The Seabury Press, 1979),opp. 49 and 43. 6Juliana of Norwich, Showings. translated from the critical text with an introduction by Edmund Colledge, O,S.A., and James Walsh. S.J./he Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978),~Cha~pter I.~8, p. 21 I. ~ , . 7Joseph I. Dii'vin, C.MI, Mrs. Seton: Foundress of the American Sisters of Charity (New Yo,~rk: Farrar,-Straus, and Cudahy, 1962), p. 448. aSee Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.,L, "The'Wreck of the Deutschland," #24, 7he Poems of Gerard Manley Hbpkins, edited by W. H. Gardner and~N. H. MacKenzie. Fourth Edi,tion (London: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 59. o. 9William Thomas Walsh, Saint Teresa of Avila (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Company, 1943), p. 579: Dirvin, op cir. p. 453. ~°Thomas E. Clarke, S.J., New Pentecrst or New PassiOn? The Direction of Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist Press, 1973), p. I. ~Cada et al, op. cir. p. 43. ~For the development of the Church's teaching on inculturation, see Lumen Gentium #13 and #17, Ad Gentes #16-18, #22, #26, Gaudium et Spes #53-58, Populorum Progessio #65, and Evangelii Numiandi passim. tJSee Louis Bouyer, The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers (New York: Desclee Company, 1960), pp. 260-302, 369-394. Despite Father Bouyer's sympathetic treatment of Evagrius Ponticus, he finds himself forced to conclude: "Whatever precise meaning his own mysticism may have had for Evagrius, it would be difficul[ to deny that his expressions intro-duced a lasting threat into the Christian mystical tradition: the fatal attraction of pure abstrac-tion. A neglect of Scripture, of dogma, in favor of a 'contemplation' that runs the risk of being no more than a state of psychological vacuity is not, as experience has abundantly shown, for minds nourished on the tradition which we can now call'Evagrian, a merely chimerical danger" ibid., p. 393. For the division of monasticism into two camps, see ibid., p. 380. ~4Sister Helen Flahcrty, S.C., The Presidents Reflect--After Two ]~ears. in Women: Weavers of Peace. Leadership Conference of Women Religious, Conference Report, 1982-1983, p. 6. The Religious as Witness All persons consecrated to the Lord enter the category of living witnesses to the existence of this ~'Other," of a Reality so "different" from the reality verifiable by,the senses;;and their whole lives, individual and community, are committed to the final aim of recalling mankind~ distracted by the temptations of material goods, tol thd reality Of the supreme Good, tb,the attraction of values whichare not visible, but~are true'and much higher: ; Therefore, when the documents of the Council and the subsequent directives of the,' Church insist upon the need for the renewal of religious life, they-intend above all to ".~emphasize the need for a renewal of an "interior" nature to be realized in such a way'~ that by eliminating the shadows of useless thingff or superstructures it may more easily become the transparency of God before the eyes of today's men.--John Paul IL To the Women Religious in Albano, 19 September. 1982. L'Osservatore Romano, I1 October 1982. p. 5. Why They Leave: . Reflections of a Religious AnthropologiSt Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle, asocial anthropologist, is an Assistant General for his congregation: The article ~s the resultgf both contacts and form~! stud~ies he has made with religiou~s in America and Asia. He now resides at the generalate of his cong~regation: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio,~63; 00152 Rofiaa, Italy. The recent call by John Paul II for a review 6f the reasons behind the'sharp drop in the number.,of religious within the' United States is timely. But, if this review is to realize ~its aims, those concerned in the study must seek insights from many disciplines, e;g. history, psychology, cultural anthro-pology. In this paper, I offer some insights from cultural anthropology. I believe~that -,~ " -many religious, individually,or as communities, following the combined:~ impact of the social'RevoiUtioh of Expressive Disorder of the 1960s;and early 1970s and of Vatic.an II; went into a~state of cultural malaise, anomie, or what is~popularly called culture shock; . .: : ". . ~ -the cultural and historical~situation in which religious ~life now finds itself today in, the United States is ripe for deep interior.revitalization, provided the opportunities are vigorously grasped. ¯ ~ I will explain these staiements. But, first we must clarify a much confused word-Zculture. Paul VI touched the heart of the meaning of culture when, in Evangelii Nuntiandi, he referred to the signs and 'symbols of a people) Anthropologist G. Geertz takes the same approach, though he concentrates on symbols, when he defines culture to be "an historically transmitted pattern of meanings embodied in symbols, a system of inherited conceptions expressed in 815 816 / Review for Religious, Nov.-De~., 1983 symbolic forms by means oLwhich men communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about and attitudes towardqife."2 In this sei~se, cul-ture is something living, something giving .meaning, ~direction, identity to people in ways that touch not just the intellect, but especially the ~heart. One cannot define symbol without reference to feelings, to the heart. A symbol is any reality that by its very dynamism or power leads to (i.e., makes one think about, or imagine, or get into contact with or reach out to) another deeper (and often mysterious)~.reality through a sharing in the dynamism that the symbol itself offers (and not by merely verbal or additional explanations). So a symbol is not merely a sign, for signs only point to the signifie~t. Symbols represent the signified, they carry, meaning in themselves, "which allows them to articulate the signified, rather than merely announcing it.''3 New symbols do not take root in the hearts of the people overnight as substitutes for other symbols. Time, experience are necessary for new meanings to develop, new identities tO emerge. Hence, if a people's way of living or culture is dramatically undermined for whatever reason, the effects ~an be traumatic. A feeling of malaise, anomie or normlessness, will emer[ge. The sense of identity and security is lost. ~It has been said that the American Catholic Church was "the best organ-ized and most powerful of the nation's subcultures--a source of both aliena-~ ti0n and enrichment "for those born within it and an object of bafflement or un~a~iness for others.TM In other words, while Catholics shared certain symbols in common with other Americans, many key or pivotal symbols tl~at gave meaning, id~.ntityand security to their lives came from their adherence to the Church. But, as a result, of the combined impact of the Revolution of Expre~s-sive Disorder and Vatican II, the stability a~nd the extraordinary security and cohesiveness of the Church's subcultural way of life in America were shattered in ways that are only now becoming better understood. The more cohesive and itefensive a subculture, th~ more dramatic and traumatic the breakup once key or pivotal symbols are effectively attacked. Vatican II asked that the Church open itself to the world. Cultures of people were to be:understood and evangelized. The Council., therefore, sought to counter~Caih01ic "ghettoism," something that had hampered the missionary thrust of the Church for centuries. But the world to which Catholics had to turn was a world in bxtraordinary turmoil. Secondly, the~e were aspects of mainstream American culture that were (and remain) particularly challenging to ~'vangelization.Many Cathblicslwere just not. prepared to face the situation. One American commentator perceptively noted that "in the beginning, around 1964, the turmoil that was to shake the Church was like a cloud on the horizon. Within two or three years storm clouds filled the sky. And by the mid-1970s, the U.S. Catholic Church was a tempest-tossed.institution in total~ d~sarray, o,L~kew~se,~Peter Berger said that Catholics. back in 1961, were, unlike~thei~ Protestant brothers, still sitting pretty on their Rock of Peter, secure in their numbers, in the allegiance of the faithful. Within five years, he,. Why They Leave / 817 says, the Catholics suffered the same fate as the rest; they were rushing to find "plausible lifeboats with the rest of us.TM I will first.explain what is meant by the Revolution of Expressive Disorder and then indicate various mainstream American values or symbols that partic-ularly challenge evangelization. It will then be seen that once Catholics left their neat and tight subculture and were thrown unprepared into a world in cultural turmoil and into an American cultural system they had effectively resisted, for decades, the consequences were understandable. Understanding the Revolution of Cultural Disorder It is impossible to summarize with any marked degree of accuracy just what happened in the 1960s and'early 1970s. Sociologist Robert Bellah describes the cultural revolution in the western world as "an upwelling of mystical religiosity";7 Gerald Howard considered the period as "a spirited~ wildly inventive era--a decade of great social and political upheaval when ideas and customs collidedqn every corner of American° society."8 Not only America, but the entire western world underwent a transformation in the assumptions and accepted practices which form the cultural foundations of the daily lives of ordinary people. The transformation, one of the swiftest and most dramatic in recorded history, began as a form of cultural~rev01ution among a small group of campaigning radicals, and ended by changing some of the most profound habits and assumptions.9 What was considered shocking in 1967 or 1968 is so commonplace today as not to be noticed. The most common characteristic of the 1960s' Revolution of Expressive Disorder was the symbolism of anti-struciure, anti-order, anti-predictability. It was essentially an attack on boundaries, limits, certainties, taboos, roles, sys-tems,, style, predictabilities, form, ritual. It was an attempt to make ambiguity and uncertainty, not a mere passing feature of~ life, but a way of living in itself. But the revolutidn had its major contradiction in this--on the one hand there was the push towards structureless iiadividualism with its burning zeal for self-fulfillment, but on the other hand there was also the push towards the collectivity in which the individual became smothered by the collectivity. Sociologist Bernice Martin points" out that in the field of the arts, for example, the~boundaries most severely attacked were those between the public and private spheres, male and female, uncertainty over certainty.~° In the case of Andy Warhol, for example~ the sexual identities of his portraits are often left uncertain or are inverted; he makes Marilyn Monroe look like a transves-tite. Educational institutions and teachers took, a severe pounding. The radi~ cals' demands for instant and total intimacy in human relationships, instant "turning on" and .entertainment, played havoc with teacher security, identity, well-being. Given the stress on the immediate and on the functional, it was inevitable that anti-intellectualism and utilitarianism helped undermine educa-tional programs and institutes.11 In the field of religion, new or revived cult movements fitted neatly into the search for either extreme individualism or Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 collectivity, e.g., Moonies, Krishna Consciousness, communes. Even the estab-lished churches did not remain untouched by the drive for anti-structure, for instant community experience, horizontalism, subjectivity in liturgical life. If the liturgy does not give a "peak feeling experience" then, it was argued, it cannot be an authentic ritual. At this point, it would be helpful to use the models of cultures or societies that anth~opoligist Victor Turner evolved.~Z He would distinguish two types of cultures. First, there is societas, a type in which there is role differentiation, structure, segmentation, and a hierarc~hical system of institutionalized posi-tions. Most people live most of their lives in cultures that come close to ttiis model. The second type is called.communitas or liminal, that is a type of culture that is undifferentiated, homogeneous, in which individuals meet each other integrally and not as segmentalized into statuses and roles. He argues that life is a process whereby individuals or groups of people pass from societas through communitas .to societas. Commanitas comes alive in situatiohs whereby structures have been removed or reducedto a minimum; it :becomes tangible in times of transition: e.g., religious novitiates, charismatic,prayer meetings, among crowds at a thrilling baseball game, in moments of crises. In all these instances, people lose their outstanding social differences or statuses. Let us assume, by way of practical example, that after a shipwreck, the Arch-bishop of Canterbury, the President of the United States, .the Queen of Eng-land, a stoker from the s.unken ship, and two passengers who work for a living as ship stew~irds, find themselves in the sole-surviving lifeboat. Confronted with the dangers of, the sea, the' survivors experience a period of communitas, the experience of belonging to common humanity. Titles become unimpor5 tant--survival becomes the value. But communitas can never be sustained-- and has never been sustained--simply because the normal society ultimately ¯ demands some form of structur.e, some form of predictability. For~example, once the lifeboat reaches the safety of a harbor, it is inevitable that titles and statuses become once more'important. People tiave a need to know differences and to act accordingly. But some form of' communitas remains.essential for the survival of all societies; some form of withdrawal--secular or religious--is required as a prerequisite to a new level of involvement in structure. People need to experience for periods of time basic common human values, like brotherhood, the common Fatherhood of God, nationhood, in order to keep their lives balanced. According to 'Turner, therefore, life is a process whereby persons pass from structured "ordinary" living to communitas experiences and back once more .to "ordinary," living. The process is constantly repeated if the particular society is to be maintained and if individuals are to achieve ,human satisfaction and stability. In the communitas periods many of the symbols of relationships, values,~norms, which prevail~ in the° domain of the daily pragmatic structures are reversed, suspended~ reinterpreted, or replaced by a wholly _other set of symbols and ways of acting. The period in which Why They Leave / 819 comrnunitas occurs is called liminality.13 There are periods in history when whole nations, in varying ways or in parts, seek to go through either in an almost spontaneous or planned way communitas or liminal periods. It may take the form of a widespread burst of nationalism, for .example as took place in Britain during and after the Falklands' crisis. But when the models are applied to the 1960s, it is evident that the emphasis in politics, education, arts, religion, was on the evoking of the communitas. The liminality was marked by anti-structure, unpredictabil-ity, taboo-breaking--all that we have described above. Many sought to live liminality not jus.t for part of their daily lives or for short periods, but for life. In the case of religion, the emphasis, as in the rest of the counterculture movements, was on the fraternity of man rather than on the Transcendence, on experience and emotional interaction rather than on abstraction and quiet-ness. In communitas experiences, especially of the spontaneous type such as marked the 1960s, intellectual interaction or argumentation have little or no effect. Euphoria must run its course, in other words. As noted, there are benefits from liminalperiods for the well-being of societies and individuals, but excesses can become counterproductive. As the poet W. H. Auden put it: "The Road of Excess leads more often than not to The Slough of Despond."14 By the early 1970s, the cultural liminal revolution was drawing to a close. As Berger notes "the idea of 'permanent' revolution is anthropologically an absurd fantasy . There are fairly narrow limits to the toleration of disorder in any human society."15 In this, he was agreeing with the analysis of Victor Turner. Margins, structures, boundaries--all returned, though rarely as before, across the whole spectrum of human activity, e.g.- politics, economics, education. Despite the enormity of the upheaval there were some very positive effects of the cultural revolution, such as a sharpening concern for human rights, a heightened awareness that institutions must be constantly checked for impersona!ism and injustices, and.that religion relates one not just to God but also to people . Some Key Symbols in American 'Cultural Life The anthropologist tries to find the key symbols that together bind~people within the one cultural stream. United States is so vast a country that there is'a realodanger of being simplistic in any gffort to find key symbols~ However, even given this caution, I still feel it is possible to point to relevant key symbols that emerge either in advertising or in everyday literature. The following are symbols that to me are important,~if we are to consider religious life and its relevance within the contemporary .United States. These symbols existed prior to the Revolution of Expressive Disorder. In some instances they were severely questioned by the counterculture, but they nonetheless continue to be evi-dently present. In some cases, in fact, the symbols became, reinforced by the revolution, e:g. individualism, the search for self-fulfillment. 1120 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 The Symbols of Personal Freedom/Individualism, Achievement, Self-Fulfillment Evoke Increasing Loneliness and Alienation Within Society That sharp observer, de Tocqueville, noted decades ago--as something already emerging--the problems of growing individualism, loneliness and alienation: "Selfishness blights the germ of all virtues; iridividualism, at first, only saps the virtues of public life; butqn the long run it attacks and destroys all 'others and is at length absorbed in downright selfishness.''~6 Recently, social-economist Amitai. Etzione built his critical revirw of American life and future on the same insight,t7 Historian David Potter, noted earlier, that "Americans, having demanded a higher degree of freedom, have paid a higher price for it in the degree of their psychological isolation." He.then pointed out that as a consequence of this isolation a sense of personal inadequacy and insecurity inspired by a relentlessly competitive system has produced some of the most Characteristic forms of mental illness in America.18 The more individualism is pushed the more the bonds binding people to the group and the common good are weakened. Hence, Bellah could conclude, with deepening sorrow, that as the result of the overstress on individualism "marriage, friendship, job .church are dispensable, if these don't meet my needs" [my italics].19 ~ymbols o.f Youth and Good Health Downgrade the Positive Qualitites of Aging and Suffering Christopher Lasch writes that American society "defines productivity in ways that automatically exclude 'senior citizens'."2° J. Tetlow recently observed that the American value system not only demands that one be healthy, but that one feel healthy. He comments that "experienced religious when they enter what the: Church has known as the 'dark night' for centuries, think they probably need psychiatric therapy.TM Given these attitudes to the key symbols of youth and good health, it is understandable if the agonies of death and dying fit uneasily into the American folkways. The dead must "look peaceful and fresh',; there must be no sign of suffering having taken place?~ Symbols of Material Consumerism Demand that PleaSure and Satisfaction Be Immediate ~ The ease with which goods can be discarded and replaced by "better ones" reinforces the feeling that one should not tolerate problems for too long~ The tolerance threshold becomes increasingly lower?3 One can include within the symbols of material consumerism, the symbols also of pragmatism and noise. A guiding force isthe assumption that what is useful for satisfaction is good; it generates all kinds of experiments, some good, ~some not good, Inevitably the drive for experimentation, for personal satisfaction and fulfillment, can be inirhical to the~peace essential for deep reflection and contemplation. But the world of mass media,advertising does not help the situation. It intrudes, as though by right, at so many points of one's daily life and so often in a noisy Why They Leave / 821 way. Daniel Bell blames the 1960s for an intensification of the pressure for more and more noise.24 1 doubt if the situation has changed. Vatican II and the Cultural Revolution Collide The dramatic opening paragraph of Gaudium et Spes of Vatican II pin-pointed a vital thrust desired by the fathers, a thrust founded in the Gospel imperative to go. out to all with the saving and consoling news of salvation: "The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of men of this age, especially those who are poor.or in any way afflicted, these too are the joys and hopes, the.griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ." Committed Cath-olics held within a ghettosubcult'ure could no longer consider their evangeliza-tion obligations to be coterminous with that subculture. Liturgies were to be adapted to local cultures, having in mind also the community orientation of the Church. Catholics had now to.enter loving and listening dialogue with the once "suspect" Protestants. As regards religious, "the manner of living,, praying and working should be suitably adapted to the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious and also., to the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given cul(ure" [my italics].2~ Quitg independent of the cultural upheaval hitting the western world at t~his point, the above new theological and pastoral emphases were sufficient in themselves to make many question the validity of the contemporary under-standing# of the pivotal symbols~ within the Catholic subctilture of America. Recall the point made earlier: the more cohesive and integrated a subculture is, the more violent and traumatic will be the consequences--once pivotal symbols are shaken ~r undermined. We cannot abstractin fact from the reality that the movement to shake Catholics into becoming pastorally aware of the world beyond their ghetto als0 coincided with a world in "unnatural" turmoil, a world of intense countercultural liminality: The combined effects of the theological and cultural changes of Vatican II and the cultural revolution left Catholics breathless, lost in what seemed to be an. ever-increasing malaise, loss of direction. People felt stunned, rootless, never sure what was to happen next within the Church that for centuries s~emed unchanging. They became exposed to movements, pressures they could not understand. The mass of intricate cultural supports that had protected the ghetto Church for over a hundred ybars within the United States were suddenly removed. One can only agree with Avery Dulles' assessment of the period after the Council: "In most countries the decade since the Council has been one of internal conflict, confu-sion, disarray. The Church seems, for the first time in centuries, to be an uncertain trumpe~."26 Let us look a little closer at some of the ways in which the confusion or disarray evolved with such speed. We will then be in a better position to understand why the numbers of religious have so dramatically dropped. Within the.Catholic subculture, prior to Vatican II, it was inevitable that Church authority, as represented by bishops, priests and even religious, held 822 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 . generally a socially and pastorally honored position. Their roles and the expec-tations of the people were clearly defined~ and supported by what ,was thought to be an unchanging theology. Vatican II returned to important emphases as regards liturgy, the role of ecclesial aut.hority within the community of the faithful, the role of laity in the apostolate. These emphases, in themselves would have been sufficient to shake and question the status of priests and religious wiLhin the subculture. But I~would agree with~sociologist George A. Kelly that th.e.~dramatic undermi~ning of pivotal symbols of authority~ priesthood, reli-gious life (according to the meanings then given them) was caused in no small way by the inse.nsitive attacks on the symbols by Catholics themselves. Armed with ,the anti-structure symbols of the cultural revolution, the attackers some-. times~used a most remarkable viciousness: One well-known~civil rights leader p~ublicly referred to the Church as "a0iwhore"!27 Priests and religious even seemed to seek out publicity when they left their vocational commitment. Little wonder if,~the faithful had their confidence~in the symbols undermined. The confidence of many priests and religious was also not infrequently threatened. But the confusion and disarray was.helped along even by sympathetic people holding important positions within the subculture. Let me explain. An anthropologist, in studying a particular culture, will seek out the authority structures and symbols of the people. He .will seek to find out how the credibil-ity of the symbols is maintained.But of similar importance is the study of ritual, whether ii be~ civj.'l, secular or religio~us. Ritual is vital to the maintenance of a group's life. One may disturb a people's identity by effectively attacking their ritual. The speed with which .liturgical changes took place following Vatican II, not the changes themselves, left concerned anthropologists aghast.~ Ritual consists primarily of symbols, not signs. As we noted, signs can be substituted for other signs with no problem at all. But not symbols, for they relate to the.hearts old, people. Any change must be done with extraordinary sensitivity and, with full involvement of the people themselves. Victor Turner and Mary Douglas, both leading anthropologists in the study of ritual, both Catholics, have commented~on what happened. At .one point,t; in hisqengthy analysis, Turner notes that '~one cause of the large-scale.withdrawal of many Catholics from the institutional life of the Church who still think of themselves as Christians (and sorrow as widows do for the death of someone~beloved) is the comprehensive transformation of ritual forms under the influence of theoreticians drawn from the positivist and materialist camps . ,,2s It was not a questign of ~topping change. But it was rather a question of how that change was to take place. Mary Douglas is equally strong in her analysis.29 ~Inevitably, religious shared the "blame" in the minds o~f the faithful for disruptive and insensitive,speed with which so many changes took place. Their credibili(y and prestige .as educators was undermined. As their status within the subculture became confused owing to the breakup of the subculture itself, religious often did not develop a more community-oriented, esteemed status as sensitive educators. For this reason they became not particularly attractive Why They Leave / 823 leaders to follow, 'thus contributing to the falloff in vocation recruitment. Religious and Culture Shock One contemporary commentator,~i). Callahan, incisively and sympatheti-cally noted that "it is nbw"trivial to say that W~stern culture is undergoing a crisis, but it is not trivial to live it." In order to situate what happened to many priests and religious, it is relevant to quote his next poii~t: "To live it and not just talk about it means that one takes upon one's shoulders, willingly or unwillingly, all the burdens of confusion, uncertainty and a clouded vision."3° Priests and religious were key symbols within the American Catholic subcul-ture. Suddenly, in.ways never before expected, the prestige and~acceptance of these symbols was undermined. Many priests and religious, trying to live with ~the challenge, struggled to shoulder all the burdens, confusion in roles, uncer-tainty of pastoral and vocatignal goals that resulted from the cbmbined impa~t of Vatican-Ii and the cultur'~Frevolution. Little wonder that many went ifito a state which we call, culture sh~ck---"culture" because the subculture that had defined in n.o ~small ~way their identity and security had now collapsed. Louis Luzbetak defines culture shock as "a reaction that is blind and unreasoffed, a reaction that is but a subconscious flight or escape from a culturally disagree-able environment."3t I believe four types of escape on the part of religious from a culturally disagreeable environment can be detected: 1. Vocational Withdrawal ,o Vei'y few religious prior to Vatican II were trained either to understand empirically the nature of culture, Culture change, or even to appreciate that theology is open to progressive deepening and therefore change. Just one insight will help to appreciate the situation. Prior to Vatican II the word "sociology" was most generally synonymous with "social ethics." It was a most rare seminary or formation house that included any serious teaching in empiri-cal social sciences; given the stress on the a priori method, recourse to the empirical social sciences was not seen as useful or important. It is scarcely surprising therefore if many religious became utterly confused about what was happening as a consequence of Vatican II cultural and theological changes and of the impact of the cultural revolution of the 1960s--so confused, in fact, that they withdrew from religious life as their only method of coping. The missiolo-gist, Walbert Bfihlmann, recently cited a speaker's comment at a Rome meet-ing. The speaker noted .that "if some 40,000 priests and religious have 'given up' in the last ten years it is not least of all because they had not been prepared for the cultural, sociological, and theological °changes that called everything into question. This is why they could not cope with the changes."32 2. Reverse Nativism By "reverse nativism" I mean that religious struggled to escape the frustrating challenge of change by going back to the symbols of predictability 1~24 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 and certainty of the former Catholic subculture. And they sought to remain in the security and identity of the past. This is not an .uncommon type of reaction on the part of adjustment to dominant cultures or rapid change. The Lefebvre movement is an example of this type ~of'reaction within the Church. History shows that while this t.ype bf turning away from reality gives security and identity, it can only be a temporary situation. Reality must at some time or other be faced up to': : 3. Cultural Romanticism A person who suffers from "cultural romanticism" is one who, in order to cope with culture ocon.flict, believes the culture he is .noW faced with is the culture. D~ramatically. discarding the ~past,.he avidly turns to the new way of living, new values, with a most uncritical approacO. He is just blinded by what he assumes to be the beauty of all around him. ~In.~the case of religious faced with the 1960s crises, many, having lost direction; capitulated to the counter-culture movement. Hence, they sought the '~instant" community, as much spontaneity as possible without structures in religious communities. Eventually a tiredness emerged, 9 hollowness, for as we have seen ther~ is a htiman limit to constant change, constant spontaneity. Not only did this overstress on self-fulfillment and feeling, have tragic effects on religious communities, but it also led to unnecessary crises within formation programs and seminaries. Formation programs and seminary systems generally collapsed since they were based~ on a model of service that fitted the old Catholic subculture, but not the new pastgral stress inherent in the community model of the Church. Formators were at a loss to know what to do. Many gave way to the pressures of the counterculture and dispensed with structures. The consequence of this is well described~by Henri J. M. Nouwen in an article published i.n 1969. He claimed that all formation has "as its primary task to offer a meaningful structure which allows for a creative use of the student's energies." When such meaningful structure is lacking, then the student becomes excessiv.e, ly dependent on endless self-scrutiny, affir-mation by superiors and others. The final result of this process is individual .,and group depressionP3 I am sure that as a consequence of the confusion into which formation programs fell, many young religious students left, as well as formation staff since they were being subjected to criticism from all sides--from students, from major superiors, from fellow religious (there are a~ many experts on formation as there are members of a province!). Other interesting signs of romanticism could be seen. Religious were asked ' by Vatican II to adapt to the local culture. Many took this literally, claiming that the only way to get close to the people was to be "one with them." Hence, life-styles changed in an effort to achieve this identification; in the process, of course, religious beqame so identified with middle-class styles that they.were indistinguishable from this class~and lost all credibility in consequence. So Why They Leave / 825 some religious were forced to face the fact that for them religious life no longer held any purpose. Sometimes, crises occur'red when religious overstressed the self-fulfillment "craze" of the counterculture. The more individualistic :they became,.the weaker their ties with the community. As Robert°Bellah noted (as quoted above), such people are apt to opt out of service to the community once they are placed under any pressure from the common good. Not infrequently, religious, having moved out of traditional apostolates, found themselves as social workers, civil rights' leaders, development workers. In .these new roles they sought to give meaning to theirs, lives as religious. But the more they tried to obtain identity from their work of service, the more elusive it became. For religious life has meaning first and foremost from the radical commitment to Jesus Christ in faith, When this reality was overlooked, religious eventually found themselves out of religious life. 4. Cargo Cultism ~ Thomas Merton, in the'Very year of his death, felt that many in the Church (and therefore in religious life) had adopted what is called a "cargo cult" approach tO ,renewal. Anthropologists, particularly those who work in Melanesia, South Pacific, have long documented such cults. People destroy buildings, gardens, and then build new structures, e~g. primitive airstrips or boat jetties. Then, with the .old structures'gone and the new ones established, the people' would sit and wait for the ancestors to fly. in with the goods of the western world. If the ancestors did not arrive, then they recognized that they had chosen the wrong structures or used the wrong magical words.~-Merton rightly recognized that this is something that pertains not only to so-called primitive Melanesia. He felt ttlat the same cargo approach was alive and well ih the ChurchP5 Once chapters of renewal had b~en held, fine documents written, beautiful words spoken, new structures of government introduced, then religious expected that by sitting and waiting the renewal would take place in consequence. But, as in the case 6f the cults in Melanesia, nothing of the kind happened, unless the religious concerned tackled renewal and conver-sion. within the h'eart. Only this radical.conversion to the Lord would ulti-mately make structures or documents effect their aims. The more this was not recognized, the more religious became disillusioned and angry, their anger often being directed at structures and superiors, which, sometimes resulted in the withdrawal from religiou~ life. The structural changes, e.g. in government, were often done with consider-able zeal and hope, under.standably legitimizing these changes as the response to the call to adapt to the local culture. Some provinces of religious congrega-tions, for example, opted to govern according to the American system of "checks and balances." One senses at times that this was done without suffi-cient critical analysis. It was felt that this civil system would check any further abuse by authorities. The aspiration was somewhat cargo cultish, since other problems have emerged that have on occasions exacerbated the situation and 1126 / Review for Religibus, Nov.-Dec., 1983 made government even more difficult to operate within the religious provinces. Arthur Schlesinger asserts that "theFounding Fathers, who saw conflict as the guarantee of freedom, grandly defied the inherited wisdom [in the Constitu-tion] . . . [which] thus institutionalized conflict in the very heart of the American polity."36 Conflict is part and parcel of being~human,.~but its institu- ¯ tionalization within a religious congregation's government may not be quite what is needed if religious life values are to predominate. Secondly, David Potter pointed 'out that the "pervasive repugnance for any sort of personal authority has lain close to the heart of the American idea of freedom. It has colored Americans" distrust of power, has encouraged them to diffuse power when they could, and has caused them to shrink from admitting its existence when they could not prevent it from being concentrated."37 There has been a "cargo cultish" assumption that the civil system of government would solve so many problems, but I belibve in uncritically open-ing themselves to this system, religious have ~pted for a form ofigovernment which can be so fearful of moving without what might be called an-"orgy of consultation" that a paralysis sets in, At a time of decline in vocations and challenging new pastoral needs, no government should be so subject to paraly-sis. Governments in religious life today must consult widely; for this~to take place there must be trust on the part of all concerned. If not, lit~le~wonder if major superiors resign, and well~-suited potential leaders refuse to assume office for fear of being paralyzed by so many checks and~balances and the fear of built-in conflict. I .suspect this is a-significant factor behindi the burnout of superiors and the not infrequent .departure.from religious life. I also believe that religious who have assumed a "cargo cultish" approach to religious life structural changes are merely delaying,the moment of truth for themselves and their congregations. .~.~ I suspect that when the civil system of.government was adopted uncriti-cally, provincial chapter participants did not ask the right questions, e.g., "What is religious life government for?" "Did the founder insist on :a form of government that he considered integrally.~related to the realization of the congregation's aims?" David J. O'Brie.n, commentingin 197-2 on the uncritical Americanizing drive in adaptation noted a degree of disillusionment emerging: "The notion of Americanizing the church now appears to many as unworthy, even immoral."32 Simplistic "cargo cultish:' attitudes about government struc-tures may be waning. I am°inclined to think so. Revitalization of Religious Life: Anthropol~ogical ~sights Today religious life remains in the state of the liminality, of uncertainty, of co~fusion, that has mar.ked the period since Vatican II. Now one hears the near-despair question: How is it possible to survive? Religious life will survive, even if a significant number of congregations are expected to die in the years to come)9 There will always be people in the Church who will want to extend and~ radicalize their baptismal commitment. These will try to express the life Why They Leave / 827 and holiness of the Church in all its radicalness. ~And they will want to do this in groups in order to be supported in ~their~eff.orts. I believe, however, even though malaise and confusion are still affecting religious life that we'a~'e on the verge of an in-depth revitalization. The Church is in a cultural and historical stage that parallels the vital points of:growth in the Church, namely the post-Reformation and the post-French Revolution ¯ periods. Both periods had been preceded by extraordinary social, political, cultural and religious upheaval. The affect of the French Revolution and its associated forces in Europe on religious life was traumatic. It is estimated that on the "eve of the French Revolution, worldwide membership in all the men's religious orders stood at approximately 300,000; by the time the Revolution and the secularizations which followed had run their course in France and the rest of Europe, fewer than 70,000 remained.''4° The Church wffs stunned'by what seemed a calamity. Yet in fact eventually an extraordi-nary number and variety of new congregations emerged fro~m tliis liminal period of shock and confusion. Similarly, after the Reformation, there was.a period in which people placed hopes in new ecclesiastical laws, structures, to bring them through the crisis. But, their approach asked of legislation and new structures what they could never do alone; their .approach was "cargo cultish." Eventually the truth came home to the sincere--the way of renewal is.born out ~ of the near-despair 'question asked in faith--how is it possible to survive? Ultimately, only by a committed return to prayer, faith, union with Christ, the original charism of the particular founder and the prayerful discernment of the ,needs of the ~world, As one historian put it, the Council of Trent, despite its ' tortuous length, really.effected nothing in depth until, under "the reforming influences of men like St. Ignatius Loyola, the stress turned to personal prayer and abnegation, and a renewed commitment to sacramental life. [which] demanded continuous heroic effort.TM ~ What will characterize religious life in its revitalized form? A major insight comes from~Paul VI in Evangelii Nuntiandi, 1975. He challenged the Church ib recognize that "what matters is to evangelize man's culture and cultures. in a vital wa, y and fight to'their very roots",(n. 20). If we take this challenge and relate it to the mission of religibus life in the United States (and elsewhere), 1 ,believe John Kavanaugh's statement is correct: "One powerful and often over-looked possibility is in the rediscovery of the religious life as countercultural force."42 This means that we must go 1sack and look closely at the symbols within our culture that urgently need challenging'with Gospel values. This challenging can be effectively done not in words alone but ultimately through a life-style that witnesses to values, attitudes, that are Gospel in origin. As wit-nesses they will be living symbols of what the Gospel really means. The spiritu-ality of future religious life will be, as Karl Rahner observes, "a spirituality of the Sermon on the Mount and of the evangelical counsels, continually involved ~ in renewing its protest against the idols of wealth, pleasure and power."43 To be more explicit, religious life in the United States will enter a new 1~91~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 spring, if religious themselves recognize that for the culture to be evangelized in depth "in a vital way and ,~r!ght to [its] very roots," they must themselves become - radically committed living witnesses to the Incarnation and Transcen-dence in orderto counter the symbols of secularism and selfishness. - living witnesses to vibrant community life, to counter the symbols of excessive individualism and alienation insociety~ . - living witnesses to a love of prayer, contemplation, to counter the sym-bols of chronic pragmatism and materialism; ~ - living witnesses through their life-style and attitudes to God's mercy, Jesus Christ, ifi concern for~ the alienated,0the oppressed--nationally and internationally; - living witnesses of respect for older people and their accumulated wis- ,. dora, to counter the symbol of excessive stress on the cult' of youth in a productivity-oriented culture; ¯ - living witnesses to the radical demands of asceticism in opposition to the symbols of consumerism, instant spirituality; - living witnesses, to the virtue of. hope, to cbunter ~symbols that seek to negate any redemptive and ~schatological power of suffering. American~mainstream ctilture is steeped in a rich mythology of mission to greatness, a mythology--once deeply Christian in its orientation--with sym-bols of journeying to build a society befitting the dignity of men and women. In recent decades, this mythology of journeying has been used opolitically, in ways never intended by the early dreamers, poets, prophets and builders of the nation. Religious, when they respond to the call to radicalness, effectively have the chance to draw from this mythology, purifying it of its subsequent aberra-tions. In the process they will touch the hearts of Americans.who are genuinely sehrching for how to journey to real greatness. The pope requeSted the review of religious life in the United States not only because religious life needs this critical reflection within the country, but also because of the influence American religious have had "on religious life +throughout the world.TM Anthropologists, who happen to be Catholic, and who work in ,various parts of the world come into contact with the influrnce of American-b~rn religious. Hence, they recognize the importance of the pope's singling out of American re!igious life. If the review has the effect of deepening commitment and reVital-ization in American religious congregations, this will have a flow effect throughout the world. The mythology of mission to greatness would then be international ir~ its implications It has been Said that the anthropologist's trade lies in unearthing what is hidden and articulating wha~ is latent. In this brief article, I have tried ,to illustrate through the use of anthropological techniques of analysis what has happened.to religious life in the post-Vatican II United States. Many of the insights have been spoken of before. But here /hey are:articulated within various anthropological frames or parameters in an effort to put them into a Why They Leave / 829 better context and :be more objectively understood. Many other disciplines will expertly highlight points not raised here. But, it is argued, the anthropologist's particular expertise is to be found in the interpretation of culture. Religious in America prior to Vatican II belonged ,to a :highly organized and structured subculture of American~life. The anthropologist has specialized insights into the position of religious within such a subculture, but he has also insights into what happened to religious~ life once this subculture broke down with such ~apidity and trau'ma. This paper attempts to offer some of thrse insights. A second aspect of the paper~related to the future of religious life in the United States. As evangelizers are called on to eVangelize culture in depth, the anthro-pologist is surely in a key position to unearth.hidden, but powerful, symbols that must be evangelized if Gospel values are to take root. Herice, the last part of the article is concerned with What religious life should symbolize if it is to become something not lived in some ~r~'refieda~mosphere, .but rather a power-fully radical vehicle through which the Gospel can take root within the hearts and ~minds of American people: Then the people will come to see conversion as a journeying "into a place 6i" promise anff hope"'(Preface of Thanksgiving). ¯ NOTES ~No. 63. 2The Interpretation of Cultures"(N.Y.: Basic; Books¯ 1973), p:89. ~Louis Dupre, The Other Dimension: A Search for the Meaning ofi Religious Attitudes (N.Y.: The Seabury Press, 1979), p. 105. 4J0hn iCogley, Catholic America (N.Y.: Image, 1974)¯ p. 135. .sCharles A. Fracchia, Second Spring: The Coming of Age of U.S. Catholicism (San Francisco: Harper & Ro,w, 1980), p. 83. ~Facing up to Modernity: Excursions in Society, Politics and Religion (Manchester: Penguin, 1979), p. 228. 7"Religion and Power in America Today" in Commonweal, 3 December 1982, p: 655. 8 The Sixties: The Art~ Attitudes, Politics and Media of Our Most Explosive Decade, ed. Gerald Howard (N.Y,: Washington Square Press, 1982), p.,4: 0See explanation by Bernice Martin. A Sociology of Contemporary Cultural Change (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1981)¯ p. 1 and passim. ~Olbid. p. 112. '~See Ralph W. Larkin, Suburban Youth. in Cultural Crisis (N.Y.: Oxford University Press, 1979), p. 171. ~2For a summary of his approach see Victor and Edith Turner, Image and Hlgrimage in Chris-tian Culture: Anthropological Perspectives (Oxford: Basil Bl~ckwell, 1978), pp. 243-255. ~See,Gerald A. Arbuckle, "Evangelization and Cultures: Complexities and Challenges" in The Australasian Catholic Record, Vol. LVI, 1979¯ pp. 254-257: ~4"Contra Blake" in Collected Poems, ed. E. Mendelson (London: Faber & Faber, 1976), p. 540. ~50p. cit., p. 17. ~rDemocracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville, ed. P. Bradley (N.Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1953), II, p. 98. I!~!0 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 ~TRebuilding America Before the21st Century: An Immodest Agendd~(N.Y2~McGraw-Hill, 1983). , ~ ~SFreedom and Its Limitations in Americt~n;Life, ed. Don E. Fehrenbacher (~;tanford: Stanford University Press, 1976), pp. 22, 29. ~90p. cir., p. 652. ~°The Culture of Narcissism: American Life in An Age of Di~ninishing Expectatiohs (N.Y.: Warner Books, 1979), p. 354. 2~"American Catholic Spirituality" in New Catholic World, July/August, 1982, p. 154. 22See Richard Huntington and Peter Metcalf, Celebrations~of Death: The Anthropology of " Mortuary Ritual (N.Y.: Cambridge University Press, 1979), pp. 184-211. 2~See Marvin Harris, America Now: The Anthropology of a Changing Culture (N.Y.: Simon and Schuster, 1981) p. 28ff. 24 The Cultural Contradictions~ 8f Capitalism (N.Y.: Basic Books, !976), p. 122. 2~ Perfectae Caritatis, no. 3. 26 The Resilient Church: The Necessity and Limit~ of Adaptation, (N.Y.: DoubledaY, 1981), p., I i. 27Cited by Qeorge A. k.elly, The~Battlefor the American Church (N.~.: Doubleday, 1981), p. 8. ~s',Passages, Margins and Povert~,~',Religious. Symbols~and Co~nmunitas" in Worship, Vol. 46, 197Z. p. 390f. , . ~ ~ 29See Natural Symbols: Explorations in Cosmology (N:Y.:. Pantheot~ Books, 1970), passim. ~°The Tyranny of Surviva~l (N.Y.: Macmillan, 1973), p. 23. 3~ The Church and Cultures: An Applied Anthropology for the" Religious Worker (Techny: Divine Word, 1970), p. 97. 32The Chosen Peoples (Midd!egreen: St. Paul Publications, 1982), p. 273. 3~lntimacy: Essays in Pastoral Psychology (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1969), pp. 79-105. ~For an introductory overview of such cults see Kenelm Burridge, New .Heaven New Earth (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1969), passim. ~Cargo Cults in the South Pacific," in America, 3 S~ptember 1977, p. 96. 36The Imperial Presidency (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1973), p. vii. ~70p. cit., p. I If. ~The Renewal of American Catholicism (N.Y.: Paulist Press, 1972), p. 208f. 39See predictions by Raymond Fitz and lawrence Cada, ~The Recovery of Religious Life" in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 34, 1975/5, p. 706. ~°lawrence Cada, Raymond Fitz; Gertrude Foley, Thomas Giardino and Carol Lichtenberg, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious L~fe (N.Y.: The Seabury Press, 1979), p. 38. 4~ L. Evenett, The Spirit of the Counter-Reformation (cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968), p. 4If. ~2 Following Christ in a Consumer Society: The Spirituality of Cultural Resistance (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1982), p. 136. 43Concernfor the Church, trans. E. Quinn (N~Y.: Crossroads, 1981), p. 145. **Cited by Kenneth A. Briggs, ~Pope Orders Study'of Drop in ReligiOus Orders in U.S." in The New York 7~mes, 24 June 1983,.p. All. Sentire cum Ecclesia I"incent T. O'Keefe, S.J. Father O'Keefe has been General Assistant and General Counselor in the governance of the Society of Jesus with special charge for the fields of education and social communication; he has also been Director of the Office of Public Relations. . This artic~e ~rigina~y appeared in C~S~ the quarter~y pub~icati~n ~f the Centrum ~gnatianum Spiritualitatis, located in the order's genemlate in Rome. Re ders are familiar with that: element in the 'ch~rism of St. Ignatius which has become~known in a kind of'spiritual shorthand as sentire cum Ecclesia from the "Rtiles for Thinking with the Church" placed by St. Ignatius as an appendix ,at the end of his Spiritual Exercises. After a series of conferences in Rome by Jesuit specialists in May of" 1979, the Ignatian Center of Spirituality published them :in a:booklet.~ This provides an excellent treatment of the different aspec(s of sentire curn Ecclesia and a good bibliogr~aphy? The purpose of this paper is quite different. It is to consider this important part of Jesuit life and spirituality as presented by Pope John Paul II as one of his tirincipal concerns and desires and expectations with regard to the Society of Jesus today. It is'clear that we must 10ok to the past in orde~ tO understand the background of John Paul lI's presentation, but the main thrust is just as clearly in terms of the present and future apostolic work of the Society. Background: Recent History I. John Paul H to Jesuit Provincials: February 27, 1982 From February 23 to March 3, 1982 the Jesuit provincials from around the world met with Father Paolo Dezza, S.J., Delegate of the Holy Father, and Father Giuseppe Pittau, S.J., Coadjutor of~Father Dezza, in order to respond to the concerns, desires and expectations of the Holy Father. In his well-known address to the group on February 27, John Paul II spoke of these 831 1132 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 matters and laid specia! emphasis on sentire cum Ecclesia. His intention was to indicate how the Society coiald best serve the Church today, and how this was to be done in accord with the charism of St. Ignatius and with the tradition of the Society down through the four and a half centuries of its history. The words of the pope are at once a call, an appeal, and a challenge to the whole body of the Society to help the Roman Pontiff and the Apostolic College to serve the People of God, and to do this by living to the full one of the centerpieces of Ignatian spirituality, sentire cum Ecclesia, by being of one mind and heart with the Church. In his address John Paul II refers to the meeting of the provincials which was then at the midway point: "In such a climate of serene ffelcoming of God's will, you are reflecting in meditation and prayer during these days on the best way to respond to the expectations of the pope and of the Pe#ople of God in a period of polarizations and contradictions which mark contemporary society. The object of your reflections, inspired by Ignatian "discernment," are the fundamental problems of the ide~ntity and of the ecclesial ~f.unction of the Society . " And the first such important element noted by the pope'is the sentire cum Ecclesia. The Holy Father situates his remarks within an historical context: ". :. it'is opportune to reflect on your order's past in order to grasp the fundamental marks of this process [the implementation of the Council of Trent] and the richest and most positive aspects of the way in which the Society contributed to it. They will be like guiding lights or beacons to indicate what the Society of today, impelled by the dynamism typical of its Founder's charism, but genuinely faithful to it, can and must do to foster what the Spirit of God has brought about in the Church through the Second Vatican Council. The Society of Jesus, ever imbued with the spiri~ of true renewal, will I~e ready .to play its, part ,fully today as in the past and always: to be able to help the pope and the Apostolic College to advance the whole Church along the great road marked out by the Council . " This help that John Paul II asks of thE'Society in the Ignatian spirit of sentire cum Ecclesia is to assist "in a notable way the Roman Pontiffs in the exercise of their supreme magisterium . The Roman Pontiff to whom you are linked by ~i special vow is, in the words of the Second Vatican Counc.il, 'the Supreme Pastor of the Church' (Christus Dominus, 5). As such he has a particular ministry of service to exercise for the good of the universal Church, and in which he willingly accepts your loving, devoted and time, tested collaboration." John Paul II calls on the Soc!ety to aid him in his service to the whole Church, in helping the People of God to understand and implement the Second Vatican Council,, and to do this particularly bY traditional Jesuit loyalty to the magisterium in doctrine and practice. There are reminders to avoid defects of the past, but this is in order to render the Society's service to the pope and to the Church as effective as possible. Sentire cum Ecclesia 2. In Continuity with Paul VI In issuing this call, the Holy Father indicates clearly that he is following his predecessors, Paul VI and John Paul I: As m~, venerated predecessor, Pope Paul VI, already told you, the Church today wants the Society to implement effectively the Second Vatican Council, as, in the time of St. Ignatius and afterwards, it spared no effort to make known and apply the Council of Trent, assisting in a notable waythe Roman Pontiffs in the exercise of their supreme magisterium . Together with solidity of virtue, your Constitutions insist on a solidity and sourdfiess of doctrine, su~:h as is essential for an efficacious apostolate. Conse-quently, "The Jesuits were universally considered to be a support for the doctrine and discipline of the whole Church. Bishops, priests and lay people used to look upon the Society as an authentic nourishment for the interior life" (Letter of Cardinal Villot to Father General, 2 July 1973). The same should remain true in the future by means, of that loyal fidelity to the magisterium of the Church, and in particular of the Roman Pontiff, to which you are in duty bound. After the letter mentioned above by John Paul 1I, which Cardinal Villot had sentln the name of Paul VI, the latter pope wrote to Father Grneral on September 15, 1973 with regard to General Congregation XXXII which had just been cbnvoked for Decembei" 1974. Paul VI referred in a very special manner to "the fidelity ~o the Holy See, whether in the area of stodies and education of young scholastics, who are the hope of your order, oor of the students attending the great number of schools and universities entrusted to the Society, or in the production and pu~blication of writing,,s aimed at a wide circle of readers, or in the exercise of tl'ie direct'apostolate. 3 A year later on Deceml~er 3, 1974, Paul Vi addressed the members of i3eneral Congregation XXXII and continued.along the line of thought of his letter of September 15, 1973. He specified the works of the Society where the spirit of sentire cum Ecclesia has been evident: ¯. we see displayed all the wonderful richness and adaptability which has characterized the Society during the centuries as.~the Society of those "sent~ by the Church. Hence tl~re have come theological research and teaching, h,ence the apostolate of preaching, of spiritual assistance, of publications and writings, of the direction of groups, and of formation by means of the Word of God and the Sacrament of Reconciliation, in accordance with the special and characteristic duty, committed to you by your holy Founder. Hence there have come the social apostolate and intellectual and cultural activity which extend from schools for the solid and complete education of youth all the wa~, to the levels of advanced university studies and ~cholarly research . Then in a s~ries of questions which Paul VI says that Jesuits themselves are asking "as a conscientious verification and as a reassuring confirmation," the Holy Father asks: "What is the state of Catholic faith and moral teaching as set forth by the ecclesiastical magisterium?TM Paul VI spoke in a similar way in his letter of February I5, 1975 to Father General,5 and, in an audience granted to him during General Congregation XXXII on February 20, 1975, the Holy Father expressed his fear lest the ¯ General Congregation "give insufficient care to correcting certain lamentable deviations in doctrinal and disciplinary matters which had in recent years often ~834 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 been manifested with respect to the mag]sterium and hierarchy.TM On March 7, 1975, the last.day of the Congregation, Paul VI received Father General and the General Assistants. In a brief address the Holy Father noted: We were not a little pleased by the fact that the members of the General Congregation favorably understood the force and meaning of our recommendations and showed that the~, received them with a willingnes~s to carry them out . We exhort all the companions" of Ignatius to continue with renewed zeal to carry out all the works and ~ endeavors upon which they have so eagerly embarked in the service of the' Church . You should be aware of the fact that not only the eyes of c.ontemporary men in general but also and especially those of so many members of other religious orders and congre-gations and even those of the universal Church are turned upon you . 7 General Congregation XXXII replied to the concerns and expectations of Paul VI particularly in its first and third decrees. In the first .decree, the "Introductory Decree," the Society humbly acknowledged the failings pointed out by the Holy Fatlier, and sought, with God's grhce, a more radical renewal and closer unity with the Holy Father.8 Even more specifically, the third decree treated "Fidelity of the Society to the Magisterium and the Supreme Pontiff." It stressed the Society's obligati6n of reverence and loyalty, and its responsibil-ity towards the Church. While reaffirming the Society's long tradition of service fO the Church in the explanation, propagation and defense of the faith, it deplo'red the shortcomings in this matter in recent years, and recommended to Society superiors a fatherly but firm vigilance so that cases might be avoided or corrected which tarnish the Socieiy',s fidelity to the magisterium and to the service of the faith and of the Church.9 " The reaction of Paul VI was expressed in a letter of Cardinal Villot-to Father General on May 2, 1975: "It is mos( opportune that the GenEral Congregation has confirmed the traditional fidelity of the Society to the magis-terium and the Holy Father: HoweVer, the expression [in the text of decree 3], 'Freedom Should be intelligently encouraged,' should not be allowed to pro-vide gro~nds for disregarding thb rules for 'Thinking with the Church,' which are proper to the Society."~0 3. The Address Prepared by John Paul 1 During"his all too brief pontificate, Pope John Paul I had pre.pared an address which he intended~to give to (he members of the Society's Con-gregation of Procurators on September.30, 1978. When the Holy Father's sudden death prevented him from giving the address, Father'General appealed to the Vatican Secretariate of State for a copy of it. This was accomplished through the good offices of Cardinal Villot who menti6ned in his accompany-ing letter that John Paul 11 subscribed to and made his own~what John Paul I had written.~ 1 In his address, John Paul I proposed some points for the consideration of thememb~rs of the Congregation of Procurators. Not only does senti~'e cure E~clesia have a central part here, but John Paul I provides a clear and full Sentire cum Ecclesia : report of what activities and what attitudes it refers to: In your apostolic labors you should always keep in view the proper end of'the Society "founded chiefly ,for the defense and propagation of the faith and for the progress of souls in Christian life and doctrine" (Formula of the Institute) . For this evangelizing action, St. Ignatius demands of his sons a solid doctrine acquired through a prolonged and careful preparation. It has been a characteristic of the Society to be careful to present in preaching and spiritual direciion, teaching ~nd publication of books and reviews, a solid and sound doctrine, fully conformed to the teaching of the Church; because of this the monogram of:the Society was for the Christian people a guarantee [of solid doctrine] and won for you the special trust of the episcopate. Strive to maintain intact this praiseworthy characteristic; let it not happen that the teachings and p~blica-tio~ is of Jesuits contain anything to cause confusion and disorientation among the faithful; ever keep in mind that the mission entrusted to you by the Vicar of Christ is to announce--in a way adapted to the mentality of today, certainly, but in its integrity and .purity--the Christian message contained in th, e deposit of revelation, of which the authentic interpreter is the magisterium of the Church. This na!urally implies that in the institutes and faculties where young Jeslzits are formed,'sure and solid doctrine is taught in conformity with the directives ~:ontained in the conciliar decrees and in the successive documents of the Holy See concerning:'~t.he, doctrinal formation of those aspiring for priesthood~ And this is all the more necessary since your institutes are open to numer-ous seminarists, religious, and lay persons wh6 frequent them precisely for the sure and~' solid doctrine that they expect to receive there . Be therefore faithful to the wise norms contained in your Institute: and be at the same time faithful to the prescriptions of the Church concerning religious life, priestly ministry, liturgical celebrations, giving an example of that loving docility to "our Holy Mother the hierarchical Church"---as St. Ignatius recalls in the "Ruleg for Thinking witff the Church"--because she is the "true spouse of Christ our Lord" (see Spiritual Exercises, n. 353). This attitude of St. Ignatius towards the Church should be typical also of his sons.~2 " 4. John Paul H to Presidents of Jesuit Conferences (September 1979) and Father" General's Follow-up A year later, John Paul II addressed Father General and the Presidents of, the Conferences of Provincials on September 21,197,9. The Holy Father noted that he did not have e~nough time to consider sufficiently either the good initiatives t6 be developed or the deficiencies to be remedied, and stated: I shall limit myself to recalling some recommendations offered from the heart by my immediate predecessors, Paul VI and John Paul I, out of the great love they bore.th'e Society. Their recommendations 1 make completely my own . Be faithful to the'rules of your Institute, as requested b.y Paul Vi and mpre recently byoJohn Paul I in the allocution prepared for your Congregation of Procurators shortly before his death. They both stressed . sound doctrine in complete fidelity to the supreme magisterium of the Church and the Roman Pontiff so fervently desired by St. Ignatius, as everyone knows . In addition to the great good accomplished by many Jesuits through the example of their lives, their apostolic zeal, and unconditioned fidelity to the Roman Pontiff, John Paul I1 noted "that the crisis which in recent times has troubled religious life and is still troubling it, has not spared your Society, causing confusion among the Christian people and concern tO the Church, to 8~16 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 the hierarchy and also personally to the Pope who is speaking with you."~3 The Presidents of the Conferences of Provincials had been meeting in Rome for their fourth Consultation with Father General (September 17-21), and the theme of their meeting was° the Society,'s service to the Church. The basis of discussion was a series of recent documents including.the "Directives for the Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious in the Church" {a joint document of the Congregation for Religious and the Congregation for Bishops), and, with special attention, the address of John Paul 1 referred to above. ~4 On October 19: 1979. Father General wrote to all major superiors.of the Society witliregard"to the address of John' Paul It on Septe, mber 21, 197'9", and stated that it "calls for a profound and serious reflection by us as superiors who hold the chief responsibility for the government of the Society.''15 With regard to the shortcomings mentioned by the Pope. Father General notes that: they" are practically the same deficiencies widish had already been pointed out to us by Paul VI and John Paul 1. and which we have (ecognized sincerely and have been trying to correct. But without doubt, we have not coped with the problem to th~ degree and with the effectiveness expected of us. This s~tuation focuses the desirers of the Holy Father on a matter that pertains mainly to us who bear responsibility for the govern-ment of the Society and to our way of governing. Accordingly. now is the momen! to ask ourselves seriously how we can bring a greater effectiveness to lhe government of the Society and to the execution of whal the last General Congregations have laid down with regard to the very points mentioned~ by the Holy Father)6 Practical steps were then decreed by Father General. "You, the Major Superiors with your consultors, in special n~eetings for this purpose, should examine the state of the province, of its ~embers, communities and works in the light of the points already mentioned, and should take any decisions needled in order to meet the expectations of the Holy Father . At the conclu- ~sion bf these c6nsultations, 1 want you to write to me individually at the b~gin-ning of 1980, dealing with these items that have been the subject of special discussion and of the decisions taken on them . Your counsultors also in their official annual letters should deal specifically with this material . Similar measures were set down for local superiors, their co~nsultors and communities, and for directors of apostolic works. Each local superior was to ensure "that each member of the community examines himself about his personal attit6des, words and actions in the light of the desires expressed by the Holy Father. We'must ~iot ~llow ourselves to interpret his words in such a qualified way as would fail to make us look into ourselves and bring about the changers he wants. No one can evade his own personal responsibility with the pretext that his allocution is~'for su~pefiors.'''1~ 5. The Societ~y's Prepration for a Future GC(" Father Dezza's Letter (March 25, 1982) In the correspondence and discussions with Fat~her General that began in 1980 with regard to a future General Congregation, John Paul It stressed the Sentire cum Ecclesia need for a deeper preparation of the Society for this General Congregation. After the tragic attempt on the Pope's life and after the stroke suffered by Father Arrupe, the Holy Father continued these discussions with Father l)ezza, his personal Delegate for the Society. It was in the light of this histori-cal background that John Paul I1 addressed the provincials on February 27, 1982, and spoke of fidelity to the magisterium of the Church as the focal point of the ecclesial function of the Society. In this address he has the time and the occasion for setting forth the initiatives to be developed to meet the needs of the Church and the world, something he:did not have enough time to accom-plish in his address of September 21, 1979. This same background also helps to understand why Father Dezza took up sentire cure Ecclesia as the first major point to be discussed with the provincials during their meeting from February 23 to March 3, 1982. After the meeting~ he wrote to the whole Society on March 25, 1982 in order to share with all Jesuits as he had done Witfi the provincials the concerns,~desires and expectations 6f the Holy Father. In treating sentire cum Ecclesia, there is a concentration in the letter on fidelity to the magisterium in doctrine and practice. After recalling the previous statements of John Paul 11 and his pi~ede-cessors, Paul VI and John Paul 1, which have been noted above, and after pertinent references to the Constitutions and to General Congregations, Father Dezza sets out some normS for the fidelity of Jbsuits, first to the magisterium, and then to the laws of the Church. With regard to the magisteriUm, when it is question of the infallible magis-terium, the necessity of assent on the part of all Catholics is clear. The way in which the truth is presented may Vary according to different times and cul-tures, but the truth itself may not be altered. In the words of Vatican I1: "Furthermore, theologians are now being asked, within the methods a.nd limits ~ofthe science of theology, to seek out more efficient ways--providing the meaning and understanding of them is safeguarded--of presenting their teach-ing to modern man: for the d~posit and~the truths of faith are one thing, the manner of expressing them is quite another.''19 ' When it is question of the a~uthentic but non-infallible magisterium, Vati-can II once again sets out theguiding principles: B~i~shops, teaching in communion with the Roman Pontiff, are to be respected bY all i~s witnesses to divine and Catholic truth. In matters of faith and morals, the bishops speak in the name of Christ and the faithful are to accept and adhere to it with a religious assent of soul. This religious submission of will and of mind must be shown in a special way to the authentic teaching authority of the Roman Pontiff, even when he is not speaking ex Cathedra. That is, it must be shown in such a way that his supreme magisterium is acknowledged with reverence, the judgments made by him are sincerely adhered to, according to his manifest mind and will. His mind and will in thi: matter may be known chiefly either from the character of the documents, from his frequent repetition of the same doctrine, or from his manner of speaking.~° From this Father Dezza enunciates the operative principle: "Therefore when there is question of a doctrine clearly and repeatedly taught in solemn I1~111 / Review for Religious; Nov.-Dec., 1983 documents such as encyclicals, it is the, duty of ministers of the Church, in teaching and preaching, to communicate the doctrine authentically taught to the faithful and help them to live it, with trust in the assistance of the Holy Spirit promised to the Church and to its visible head, the Roman Pontiff, in his universal ministry of guiding men to eternal salvation." When it is question of the teaching given in our Centers of Studies, it should, says the letter,. be in conformity with the magisterium (see Sapibntia Christiana, Introd., III and Art. 39 and 70) so that our scholastics may acquire, especially in the basic institutional courses, a clear, solid and organic understanding of Catholic teaching. They should be ~taught conscientiously to distinguish in the different doctrines taught betwe.en affirma-tions "that must be held, those, which are left to free discussion and those which cannot be accepted. In the matter of public~ations, the norm isstied by Father General on February 16, 1~76, in his "Ordinatio" on publisfiing works must not be forgot-ten: "that it is fully conformed t0~teaching on faith and morals, as it is pro- ~posed by the ecclesiastical magisterium,~.taking account of the freedom of investigation in relation 30 writings or reviews whose matter, by ~ts very nature, is destined only for experts.TM In addition =to fidelity in doctrine, Father Dezza notes that Jesuits are obliged to fidelity to the Church in matters of discipline and specifically~ the liturgical norms. Once again, the principle is set down in Vatican II: "Regulation of the sacred liturgy depends solely on the authority of the Church [the Holy See, Bishops' Conferences, the Bishops]. Therefore absolutely no other persons, not even a .priest, may add, remove, or change anything in the liturgy on his own authority."22 It may be said, therefore, in summary fashion that the main concern and expectation of the Holy Father in this matter is that the Society, in its teaching and preaching, its counseling and writings, and its actions .show and guarantee sureness of doctrine and fidelity to the magisterium. John Paul 1I, like his predecessors, Paul Vl and John Paul I, emphasizes the influence exerted by the Society on the whole Church, and stresses the increased sense of responsi-bility this calls for'on the part of~all Jesuits. There are attitudes and actions to avoid, but in a positive sen~,se there is a call to the Society, and there is the expectation that it will exert its best efforts in helping the Holy Father and the Apostolic Coll.ege to se~:ve the whole Church. Reflections in the Light of Ignatian Spirituality 1. ~he~ Thrust of the lgnatian Sefitire cum Ecclesia It is clear that what the Holy Father is asking of the Society requires no new laws or rules or extraordinary procedures. As Father Dezza indicates in his letter,~it is in accord with our Institute and tradition, and the reminders addressed to the Society by the pope are to be understood in the context of the Sentire cum Ecclesia whole of the Society's Institute, spirituality and mission. These latter points are not developed at any length in the letter since its finality followed that of the meeting of the provincials: to expla.in the concerns and desires and expecta-tions of John Paul II. At the very heart and center of the charism of St. Ignatius are the words of °the Formula of the Institute: "To serve the Lord alone and the Church, his spouse, under the Roman Pontiff, the vicar of Christ on earth . "Thus the life and activity of the Society is centered in service to the Church. As a priestly order committed to the defense and propagation of the faith under obedience to the Holy Father, the Society not only shares in the ministry of.the Church, but also has a special responsibility for servi~:e to the Church in her apostolic task of preserving and confirming the communion of faith in the Church. This fiaeans, that, individually and corporately, Jesuits are to develop within them-selves and communicate to those they serve attitudes which will strengthen, unify and energize the Church in its function as an instrument of the kingdom of God~in the world. They should also eliminate attitudes and actions which can weaken, fragment and paralyze the Church.23 These were the concerns of St. Ignatius when he wrote the "Rules for Thinking with the Church." As we: know, these "Rules~' are placed as an appendix at the end of the SpiritualExercises, which helps us to situate them in their proper context. They are not meant for anyone at all. They are intended for those who have been formed and nurtured by the Exercises, who are moved by a strong, personal love for Christ, and are dedicated to the est~iblishment of his ~kingdo~ in r.e, sponse to his call.24 The origin of the Society is'to be found in the ~experienre. of St. Ignatius and his companions of the Spiritual.Exercises. St. Ignatius "founded the Society as an organization which would continually, renew itself in the Church through the inner vigor of the Exercises and under the vitalizing impulse of the Spirit."25 "The Spiritual .Exercises, in which as Jesuits we especially experience Christ~and respr'nd to his call, lie at the heart of our Je~su!t vocation."26 In this context, it is easier to understand the first of ¯ the "Rules," which is a fundamental principle: "We ought to keep our minds disposed and ready, with all judgment of our own put aside, to be obedient in everything to the true Spouse of Christ our Lord, which is our Holy Mother the hierarchical Church.":7 The "~Rules" cannot be truly understood or applied except in the framework of, the Spiritual Exercises, For St. Ignatius, sentire cum Ecclesia applies to Jesuits who live the spirit of the Spiritual Exercises. Without, a lived relationship to the living Christ, the right combination of fidelity and renewal implied in sentire cum Ecclesia can scarcely~be achieved. It is clear that ,the Church for St. Ignatius is not the glorified Church, nor some abstract and idealized one that never existed. It is the Church in the concrete, with its deficiencies and weaknesses, the hierarchical, pilgrim Church which stands "ever in need of purification.''28 The best way to achieve this purification is not by ppblic criticism and controversy: A truly filial love of the Church will suggest the most suitable ways. Father Dezza's letter recalls the 1~40 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1983 telling point made by Father Arrupe: "A model of this way of acting was St. Ignatiu~ himself. Few have toiled with such effectiveness for Catholic reform 'in head and members'; and yet one would seek in vain in his voluminous. correspondence for a word of criticism of his superiors."29 St. Ignatius did not assume the role of judge or accuser, but looked rather to an internal renewal in his conviction that the Church had within herself the means and capacity to'- renew herself.3° .,. Sentire cum Ecclesia is not to be identified with something that is occa-sional, something called into play on the occasion of a,Church teaching, pronouncement or declaration.~.lt~ is rather an interior disposition and attitude of love of the Church, an habitual outlook, a framework of reference, which inspires a way of thinking; feeling and acting. The objective of sentire cum Ecclesia goes beyond a careful attention to orthodoxy and looks to union and unity in faith and communign. It is to oppose disintegrating forces in the Church and reinforce trends that build community. Only the person who looks on the Church with love as his Mother and the' Spouse of Christ can grasp and interiorize the spirit of sentire cure Ecclesia. It involves a faith attitude, and as already noted, has its roots in a personal relationship with Christ which has grown during the Spiritual Exercises. Our attitude towards the Church follow~ from our attitude toward the person of Jesus Christ. In his letter Father Dezza states: "It is therefore important to promote ever more in Ours that attitude towards the magisterium that is characteristic of~a Jesuit who, moved by the spirit of faith, is therefore favorable and sympathetic, and is led to consider the offici~,l documents of the magisterium fully and objecti,~ely

Issue 42.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1983. ; Notes on LitUt~!y REVIEW FOR REIAGtOUS ( ISSN 0034-639X~, published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVU-:W FOR REI.IGIOt~S is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO, © 1983 by REVIEW FOR RE~.~G~O~JS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S,A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW I.'OR REI,W,~OtrS: P.O. Box 6070:, Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1983 Volume 42 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELtGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW t'O~t RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and attic, s not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart Paul J. Joncas Rev. Joncas, whose M.Div. is from the Northwestern Lutheran Theological Seminary, is pres-ently pursuing doctoral studies at Fordham University. He describes this paper as an exposition of Kierkegaard's Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing in which each discourse carries a consistent theme of Complexit'y and Simplicity as opposing modes of life. Tracing each of these modes through the book provides a picture of the style of life that Kierkegaard regards as exemplary. Rev. Joncas may be addressed at 102 Washington St.; Morristown, NJ 07960. When a woman makes an altar cloth, so far as she is able, she makes everyflower as lovely as the graceful flowers of the field, as far as she is able, every star as sparkling as the glistening stars of the night. She withholds nothing, but uses the most precious things she possesses. She sells off every other claim upon her life that she may purchase the most uninterrupted and favorable time of the day and night for her one and only, for her beloved work. But when the cloth is finished and put to its sacred use, then she is deeply distressed if someone shouM make the mistake of looking at her art, instead of at the meaning of the cloth; or make the mistake of looking at a defect, instead of at the meaning of thk cloth. For she could not work the sacred meaning into the cloth itself, nor could she sew it on the cloth as though it were one more ornament. This meaning really lies in the beholder and in the beholder's understanding, if he, in the endless distance of the separation above himself and above his own self, has completely forgotten the needle-woman and what was hers to do. It was allowable, it was proper, it was duty, it was a precious, duty, it was the highest happiness of all for the needlewoman to do e~brything in order to accomplish what was hers to do; but it was a trespass against God, an insulting misunderstanding of the poor needlewoman, when someone looked wrongly and saw what 321 322 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 was only there, not to attract attention to itself, but rather so that its omission would not distract by drawing attention to itself.1 The needlewoman of this story serves as an example of what Kierkegaard sets out to develop in his book Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing. In her concern for the work that is set before her the needlewoman approaches it with a reverence, straightforwardness, unity of thought and purpose, and simplicity that speaks not of her, but of the duty which she was fulfilling. The viewer who looked on her work as something more than she had intended is the example of what it is to be guilty, as we all are, of double-mindedness and thus unable to see the beauty of what lies before them. It is my purpose in this paper to examine the guilt of the viewer in terms of a life of Complexity. This life is filled with double-mindedness, duplicity, evasion, attention to "the crowd," and a denial of the self. All of this is set up by pride which presents the person with many difficult pitfalls. There is also another side to what Kierkegaard has to say in his book which will be discussed in this paper. That is the story of the needlewoman, or the person who wills one thing. This is evidenced by a life of Simplicity. This life unfolds as one which is a unity, through which the "individual" is capable to "will one thing" and have a knowledge of self that enables the person to take risks. The result of this life is a sense of humility which is transparent, pointing to the "Good." I will discuss these two opposing modes of life under the titles 1 have assigned to them: Complexity and Simplicity. After describing how they each have an influence upon us, 1 will conclude with some more general observa-tions about the two categories and their relationship to one another. Complexity Throughout his book, Kierkegaard remains true to the Lutheran notion that humanity by nature is sinful. This sinfulness is lived out within the tem-poral order of the creation, and has a natural resistance to the "Eternal." In resisting the Eternal we are confronted with a multiplicity of life choices that may give the appearance of leading us to the "Good," but they are only delusions and actually hide the true, the Eternal from the seeker. We are led down the blind path of complexity that cuts us off from that for which we were created and we attempt to postpone what we know to be inevitable in our journey toward God. Alas. the temporal order and the press of busyness believe that eternity is so far away. And yet not even the foremost professional theatrical producer has ever had all in such readiness for the stage and for the change of scenes as eternity has all in readiness for time: all--even to the least detail, even to the most significant word that is spoken; has all in readiness in each instant--although eternity delays? Busyness, the continual search for meaning in the temporal order, the continual search for permanence in what is only transitory, the constant run- Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart ning in search of what is already before the seeker. It looms over the entirety of life and "clouds the heart, keeping it ever unknowing and bound to the tem-poral. We look on the procession of life and see the changes that occur in relation to the temporal. The fear that feeds the life of Complexity reminds us over and over that we are approaching the end. We turn in upon ourselves and try to find the key to not changing. We live with the false hope of delaying that which, in view of the Eternal, never happens. "For in relation to the Eternal, a man ages neither in the sense of time nor in the sense of an accumulation of past events."3 In.relation to the Eternal we are set free from the burdens of temporal existence and begin to see the Good and in turn the Good becomes visible through us. This temporal life is characterized by double-mindedness which draws us into an endless maze of dead ends that prevent us from apprehending the Good, the Eternal. Kierkegaard calls this double-mindedness by many names: pride, passion, denial of sell fear, cleverness, self-deceit, despair, impatience, the "crowd," evasion, and false humility. They are names of conditions we all know intimately. Kierkegaard shows us his magisterial knowledge of the human condition by naming those things which we all share in common, those things which tie us all together in our state of sin, and lead us down the path away from God. In order to understand the gu.ilt of the above mentioned viewer, and ourselves, we need to take a close look at the life of Complexity and the conditions that define our human situation. Pride 1 begin with pride because it appears in Kierkegaard's system that pride sets us up to fall into the other traps of double-mindedness. Once we have established what we consider to be our worth in the world we can begin to evaluate all our other actions in light of this worth. In this fashion the lazy man always has a disproportionate power of imagination. He thinks immediately how he will establish himself, and how fine it will be for him when now this and now that is done: he is less given to thinking that he should do this and that. And in reflection this logks very inviting, but when he must step out upon the road (for reflection is up above the road) then all is changed.4 Once the road is entered upon and the true demands of the journey are seen, as prideful people we begin to reassess our position and conclude that the course we are undertaking is act.ually beneath us. Pride plays to our predilec-tion to overvalue ourselves. It whispers to us ever so quietly, "Oh, you poor soul, just see what the world is asking of you. You have more important things to be involved with. Why go about wasting your time on what is trivial?" In listening to this voice we become further enamored with ourselves and we fall prey to grandiose dreams of what we can give to the worl~d, as if we had anything of our own to give. He wills that the Good shall triumph through him. that he shall be the instrument, he 3~4 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 the chosen one. He does not desire to be rewarded by the world--that he despises: nor by men--that he looks down upon. And yet he does not wish to be an unprofitable servant. The reward which he insists upon is a sense of pride and in that very demand is his violent double-mindednessP We exhibit our sinfulness since we do not just want to be an instrument of the Good in the world, but we want to be the instrument. We insist that God's will should be our will, his way should be our way--and we stretch the dis-tance separating us from God even further than before. That is the only power we have. The power to drive ourselves further away from God and think that we are drawing ever nearer. Kierkegaard does not let up in his insistence that the greatest damage we do is, above all, to ourselves. The grandness of our dreams, to be more than what we actually are, is the banner of our sinfulness that we carry into eternity. Pride widens the gulf between humanity and God by its pervasive nature: It creeps into every facet of our existence and tricks us into thinking how right we are when we are actually wrong. This is the self-deceit which pride leads us toward, and after we have already turned our backs on God, we begin to turn the tables on ourselves. For when hate, and anger, and revenge, and despondency, and melancholy, and despair, and fear of the future, and reliance on the world, and trust in oneself, and pride that infuses itself even into sympathy, and envy that even mingles itsdf with friendship, and that inclination that may have changed but not for the better: when these dwell in a man--when was it without the deceptive excuse of ignorance?. This ignorance is called self-deceit. : And to be ignorant of the fact that there is one thing and only one thing, and that only one thing is necessary, is still to be in self-deception.6 Self-deceit exists as a precipitate of pride. It is the only thing that is left after the ashes rendered by pride are sifted. Self-deceit has a way of turning everything upside down and it tries to give us the excuse we need when our efforts come to nothing. This overturning by self-deceit is much like the words of St. Paul "For the good that 1 wish, I do not do; but 1 practice the very evil that I do not wish" (Rm 7:19).7 This self-deceit has a way of masking our efforts so they may appear noble to ourselves when they actually bring about harm. Not only harm to others, but harm to ourselves. We are open to the suggestions of the world and hear a voice that appeals to our pride and thus we deceive ourselves again. But there is a wisdom which is not from above, but is earthly and fleshly and devilish. It has discovered this common human weakness and indolence; it wants to be helpful. It perceives that all depends upon the will and so it proclaims loudly, "Unless it wills one thing, a man's life is sure to become one of wretched mediocrity, of pitiful misery. He must will one thing regardless of whether it be good or bad. He must will one thing for therein lies a man's greatness.TM It is in the willingness to do even what we know to be bad that we start the process of selling out to whatever whim or fancy the world throws before us and we enter deeper into the self-deception that has already grasped us. The greater our self-deception the more we become oblivious to the "Good" and we enter into the next realm that dominates our earthly life--fear. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 325 Fear And spiritually understood there is a ruinous illness, namely not to fear what a man should fear: the sacredness of modesty, God in the heavens, the command of duty, the voice of conscience, the accountability to eternity.9 Our pride and self-deception have led us to the point of forgetting the things which we know to be desirable and the absence of these elements in our lives is not viewed as a great loss. The eternal element of our life is gone and we no longer understand what true fear is all about. Our concept of fear becomes entangled with what we perceive to be punishment. "For punishment is indeed not what a man should fear. He should fear to do wrong.''~° The concern we have is not for our eternal life but for our temporal life. "Yet double-mindedness seldom dwells on eternity's punishment. The punishment it fears is more often understood in an earthly and temporal sense."~l How often do we find ourselves doing things, not out ofthe goodness of our hearts, but out of fear for the punishment that may be inflicted upon us if we do not do it. This type of fear seems to be inbred from childhood when parents gladly point to the threat of punishment in order to get even a small degree of cooperation from the child. A full life cannot be lived from a defensive posture and God's attempts to break through our self-protection fall on ears that are deaf. Kierkegaard is trying to show that in taking away the will for the "Good" the person lives a second-class life that inhibits the individual in all rela-tionships with and in the world. What a terrible existence it would be to fear every action we take not knowing if we will receive accolades or be stoned. Kierkegaard rightfully puts this condition into the category of illness. But then, in a spiritual sense, there is another illness, a still more destructive one: to fear-what a man should not and ought not to fear. The first illness is defiance and obstinacy and willfulness. The second is cowardice and servility and hypocrisy.~' We are slaves to our fear and jump to its command. We are cowards in our actions, afraid to take any risks that may bring about punishment. We are hypocrites who smile in order to disguise our fear, thinking that we are being judged by the world while at the same time we are judging and condemning it. Kierkegaard wants to make clear the incredible power that sin can have over us in this world, it has a way of creeping into our lives silently, and just as silently tears our lives apart. We soon start to exhibit another means of self-defense which is not to risk anything. Another says, "1 have not the strength to risk all." Again evasion, an evasion by the aid of the word "all." For the Good is quite capable of reckoning and computing its demand in relation to the strength that this man has.~-~ We are unwilling to take risks because we cannot adequately judge the scope of the task. We do not truly know the risk that we are called upon to take since we stand in fear of what may happen to us if we do take the risk. Our lives are paralyzed by fear and that which is in us to lead us to the Good begins to atrophy. The result is to take even more desperate measures that lead us further away from the Good. 326 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Cleverness The above mentioned evasion is not solely a device to escape risk but also starts us on ihe road to thinking we are very clever. By the help of evasion, namely, one does not come into danger, and neither does he lose his honor by running away in danger--on the contrary one does not come into danger--that is one advantage. And one wins great honor as being especially clever-- that is a second advantage.~4 In our cleverness we have the ability to weave a complex of schemes that isolate us from the world. We are able to construct an ivory tower out of our plotting and slowly raise ourselves up in the eyes of the people who see us. Our cleverness allows us to look down upon the world below and gives us the illusion of achievement. The other poor souls we look down upon are seen as a threat, but as a threat that is a long way off. These same schemes also play into one of the primary traps of cleverness. Alas, there is in every man a power, a dangerous and at the same time a great power. This power is cleverness. Cleverness strives continually against the commitment.~5 Since we are not committed we give the appearance of being free but that is all we have, the appearance of freedom. We have no idea of what we may have lost in exchange for this appearance. We are not free as a true Christian enjoys freedom. We live in a cloud that, like a drug, keeps us temporarily sedated until it dissipates. The lack of commitment through cleverness does not affect the temporal life alone. Kierkegaard sees an even greater danger ahead. If he uses cleverness to hinder commitment to the Eternal, he is double-minded. He is and he remains double-minded, even if temporal help did come and he did revel in the Cleverness by which he managed his shrewd escape: yes, one should still believe that it was a calamity that he cleverly managed to evade commitment to the Eternal. Com-mitment to the Eternal is the only true salvation.~6 We have now achieved the dubious distinction of having temporarily escaped from a moment of danger and at the same time cutting ourselves off ¯ from salvation. What is left for us? Do we simply wander aimlessly through time being free from any commitment or does something else arise to take the place of this commitment to the Eternal? Kierkegaard would say that there is something else that fills in the gap created by lack of commitment and that is the passion that lives inside each of us. For if passion continues in a man, it changes his life into nothing but instants and as passion cunningly serves its deluded master, it gradually gains ascendancy until the master serves it like a blind serf.17 We are now slaves to our passions and are led about without regard for the people around us. Our passions consume us like a ravenous wolf that leaves the refuse behind. What could be left for us once we have descended to these depths? It seems that we have lost the last thread of our humanity, but there is still something more towards which Kierkegaard points the reader. Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart Despair Now that we have been blinded by our passions we no longer see what lies before us. We are now ready for the final descent. We have left the world behind and our attention is turned to the only place left for us, that is, totally into ourselves. When the attention has been focused within, it brings with it the danger of not being able or willing to accept what is found therein. It is as if our attention has been focused to the point of a laser and it holds the potential to destroy. In our nonacceptance we find that we are "at variance with our-selves." Kierkegaard uses the.following example of the gravity he sees in this moment of "variance." ¯. at each man's birth there comes into being an eternal vocation for him, expressly for him. To be true to himself in relation to this eternal vocation is the highest thing a man can practice, and. as that most profound poet has said: "Self-love is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting." Then there is but one fault, one offense: disloyalty to his own self or the. denial of his own better self.~8 We have now reached the point where there is nothing else to which we can turn. We have reached the point in our "double-mindedness" when we can go no further. We have reached the point of despair. "Is not despair simply double-mindedness?'n9 In denying ourselves have we not abandoned ourselves, who we are, our purpose for existence? Will you in double-mindedness of mind despair? Have you considered what it is to despair? Alas it is to deny that God is love! Think that over properly, one who despairs abandons himself (yes, so you think); nay, he abandons God!20 There it is! The terminal point for the life of complexity, the abandonment of God! There is nowhere else to turn. We could turn to the "crowd" but that is just a delaying tactic., a dead end. "For many fools do not make a wise man, and the crowd is doubtful recommendation for a cause.TM In Kierkegaard's estimation, to follow this mode of life is to take the path to eternal death, to be forever outside of the love of God. Now that the discussion of the life of Complexity has been finished as Kierkegaar&has outlined it in his book it is possible to look at the opposing mode of life--Simplicity. Simplicity It would be a dangerous mistake to think that the life of Simplicity is a life characterized by naivete. There is no room for an unsophisticated meandering through life. That would only serve as an invitation to the elements of double-mindedness in the world, alerting them that a pigeon is on the loose. A life of Simplicity has many facets to it bht it is "simple" in the fact that all of these facets are present for the cause of the' Good. The Good is the all-consuming goal of the person who lives a life of Simplicity. Our every atten-tion and energy is directed toward the Good and finds its telos in eternity. The move from Complexity to Simplicity is not just a shifting of gears but rather: 3211 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 It is indeed like a changing of raiment to lay off manyness, in order rightly to center down upon one thing: to interrupt the busy course of activity, in order to put on the quiet of contemplation and be at one with oneself. And this being at one with oneself is the simple festival garment of the feast that is the condition of admittance. The many-hess, one may see with a dispersed mind, see something of it, see it in passing, see it with half closed eyes, with a divided mind, see it and indeed not see it. In the rush of busyness, one may be anxious over many {hings, begin many things, do many things at once, and only half do them all. But one cannot confess without this at-oneness with oneself.22 Kierkegaard in giving his advice for preparation to confess points out that it is necessary to leave behind the manyness that presses in and confuses us in our moment of examination. It is necessary that we become focused, simple in our thoughts, in order to come to our confession as whole persons. His notion of "a changing of raiment" is not merely to do so for the moment, but rather, in the fashion of metanoia, it is a complete change of direction. Life is trans-formed and our life takes on the same shape as that of the above-mentioned needlewoman with all of its attendant expressions, The life of Simplicity is not as easy to dissect as that of Complexity. The categories that exist in this life overlap a great deal, with each one helping strengthen the other. Since they all combine to form a unity, a oneness of purpose, a simplicity of expression, any attempt to categorize wouid be arbi-trary and would not remain true to the method of presentation used by Kierkegaard. In view of this, the life of Simplicity will be dealt with as a whole. It is a mode of life that stands in opposition to the life of Complexity and as such it does not exist as a positive response to a negative stimulus. It is a distinct mode that stands on its own without need of outside impetus beyond the call of God to the sinner. In Kierkegaard's schema of the life of Simplicity it becomes clear that the style of life we live reflects the internal unity or disunity we are currently experiencing. True Simplicity reflects an attention to life and the things that are necessary to be done and it does not allow us to be overcome by the miasma of Complexity. We are able to stay in the world without needing to be exclusive in our relationships. We find what is good in life and participate in it fully. Do you live in such a way that this consciousness is able to secure the time and quiet and liberty of action to penetrate every relation of your life? This does not demand that you withdraw from life, from an honorable calling, from a happy domestic life. On the contrary, it is precisely that consciousness which will sustain and clarify and illuminate what you are to do in the relations of life. You should not withdraw and sit brooding over your eternal accounting. To do this is to deserve something further to account for. You will more and more readily find time to perform your duty and your task, while concern over your eternal responsibility will hinder you from being "busy" and busily having a hand in everything possible--an activity that can best be called: time-wasting.23 As we have seen, busyness for Kierkegaard is another expression of double-mindedness. This double-mindedness captures our will and makes the will captive to its perceptions of time available and the talents that we have at our command. We have a distorted view of the task at hand and soon think we Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 329 do not have the time needed to do the Good. The life of Simplicity will not stand for this sort of distraction because it is God who calls us to this life and it is God who is left behind in pursuit of the manyness of life. But to will one thing, genuinely to will the Good, as an individual to will to hold fast to God, which things each person without exception is capable of doing, this is what unites.24 Unity is important in order for us to continue in willing the Good. Without this unity it is not possible for our life to become a reflection of the Good nor is it possible for us to "unconditionally serve the Good in action." As persons who are united, there is an awareness of the freedom in our lives for service and commitment to the Good. We no longer fear for what may happen to us since we are now united to the Good, and our concerns have been turned from the temporal to the Eternal. "He that wills the Good in truth even hopes for the punishment;"~5 and this serves as an indication that we have beenset free from the fear that has prevented service and commitment to the Good. Once freed from fear we are empowered to act in a manner that is consistent with our new understanding of duty in relation to the Good. If, then a man in truth wills the Good, then he must be willing to do all for it or he must be willing to suffer all for it.~6 Our commitment to the Good is visible through action or suffering. Suffer-ing in this context does not have the same power it holds over the double-minded person. Suffering is understood in a different way because we now live in a new relationship to the world. It is not something thrust upon an unwilling victim. It is accepted in the knowledge that what happens to us in this world is insignificant when viewed in relation to the Good. When the sufferer, on the other hand, willingly takes up his appointed sufferings, he is willing to suffer all for the Good, that is, in order that the Good may be victorious in him.27 Suffering is not a badge worn before others in order to win accolades. It is worn as a simple garment, It is quietly endured and quickly forgotten." When we suffer for the Good we know deep within ourselves that it is the Good which is being accomplished through us and that our God is right here with us in our suffering. ~ Oh, you sufferer, alone and abandoned as you are by the generation to which you belong, know that you are not abandoned by God, your creator. Everywhere you are surrounded by his understanding ~,hich offers itself to you at each moment. In it you unite your will to the Good. And the edifying contemplation is always ready to remind you of that presence; and its very existence is a source of security to the living.28 As sufferers who "will one thing" we live in the world knowing that what we are experiencing will be long forgotten in ~he realm of the Eternal,, and in this knowledge we receive consolation while still in the temporal order. This is the only reward we are willing to accept because the "understanding of God" is sufficient. There is nothing more necessary since, in time, everything will be 33[~ [ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 finished for us in the temporal order. If we are forgotten by the world, that is no problem. If we are rejected by others, that is no problem. If we lose all that we have in service to the Good, that is no problem. For this world's memory is like the moment: a series of moments. Eternity's memory, that he is certain of. When he leaves the world, he leaves nothing behind him, he takes all with him, he loses nothing, he gains all--for "God is all to him.'~9 The total focus of energy is toward God and God alone. The will is a complete unity with itself and with the Good which resides in the Eternal. We have now reached the point when our unity also reflects a purity of thought and desire. When this point is reached, Kierkegaard begins to talk about the roles of hope, faith, and love in light of "death's decision." And it is here that the evidence of a life that is truly Christian may be seen. Yet sad as it is with the wish, how joyful it is with hope! For there is a hope that is born and dies; a shortlived hope, that tomorrow is forgotten; a childish hope, that old age does not recognize; a hope that one dies away from. But then--in death, in death's decision, a hope is born in death. By this hope the sufferer, under the pain of the wish, is committed to the Good. So it is with the hope in which the sufferer, as though from afar off, reaches out toward the Eternal . With faith it is still more joyful. For there is a faith that disappoints and vanishes; a faith that is lost and is repented of; there is a faith, which, when it droops is like death. But then--in death, in death's decision, a faith is won that does not disappoint, that is not repented of, that does not die: it seizes the Eternal and holds fast to it. By this faith, under the pain of the wish, the sufferer is committed to the Good. So it is with faith in which the sufferer draws the Eternal nearer to himself . But with love it is the most joyous of all. For there is a love, that blazes up and is forgotten; there is a love, that unites and divides--a love until death. But then--in death, in death's decision, there is born a love that does not flame up, that is not equivocal, that is not--until death, but beyond death, a love that endures.~° All of life is understood in terms of the Eternal and the very being of the individual is grounded in eternity. All of the trappings of this world are seen for what they are in their impermanence. A new permanence is given to be understood by us in our new found unity and depth of being. We no longer seek for anything for ourselves in this world and it is that which seeks nothing for itself that is truly transparent and pure. The Good alone is visible in and through us. The entirety of our being is bonded with the Good. For commitment to the Good is a whole-souled decision, and a man cannot, by the craft and the flattery of his tongue, lay hold of God while his heart is far away. No, for since God is spirit and truth, a man can only draw near to him by sincerity, by willing to be holy, as he is holy: by purity of heart. Purity of heart: it is a figure of speech that compares the heart to the sea, and why just to this?. On this account we compare the heart with the sea, because the purity of the sea lies in its constancy of depth and transparency)~ To achieve true depth of mind, true depth of will, true depth in unity, is to be transparent as Kierkegaard regards the true Christian to be. Everything is done for the sake of the Good ~ind it is, at the same time, a complete uniting of the will with the Eternal, and the will has reached its telos with the Eternal. This is the end point of the life of Simplicity, bringing us to wholeness in the Kierkegaard on Purity of Heart / 331 presence of God as opposed to losing "self" in the manyness of the "crowd" as in the life of Complexity. Conclusion Kierkegaard wrote his book as a collection of addresses which could be read at different times, with the reader still finding them of value. The result is that many of the same themes are used over and over. Although each section has a distinct flavor, it is also connected to all of the others. This makes it difficult to identify any clear line of development from the beginning to the end of the book. However, general comments about both styles of life can be made, now that the pattern within each mode has been made clear. For the life of Complexity there is a general shape that could be described as an inward and downward curve. This characterizes a concern to find mean-ing within the person. There appears to be a reliance upon the natural abilities of a person as a means of self-justification. This self-justification is indicative of the notion that everything a person needs for life can be found just by looking inward hard enough to locate it all. Schleiermacher could be used as an example of a theologian who placed a great amount of emphasis on the person being able to find God by looking inward. This mode of life is dependent on the belief that there is an intrinsic value to the person as a separate entity. Once the search is conducted and, as Kierkegaard believes~ the person comes up empty in the inward search, there is a sudden reversal of direction, and the search continues by looking to other people. It is hoped that what could not be found within the person may be found in the "crowd." Once again the empha-sis is on what human beings are capable of doing for themselves, and to Kierkegaard that is unacceptable. The natural shape of the life of Simplicity would be outward and upward. This time there is an emphasis on God, who is outside of humanity, as the basis of movement on the path toward the Good. God provides all that is necessary for the journey and God gives the person value in his sight and at the same time in the eyes of the world. There is no need for justification beyond that which God has given. In the life of Simplicity God is sufficient for the person who "wills one thing." Movement toward the Good is a long, slow process since it is not natural to humanity. On the other hand, movement toward double-mindedness comes easily since it does not fit our sinful nature like a well-worn glove. The tension between the two of them is intense because Complexity has a way of imitating expressions of the Good. Life is not looked upon as a black and white matter. Life has immense areas of grey that the person depends upon God to be led through. There is another contribution that Kierk.egaard makes in his book. There, he preserves the integrity of what it is to be human and, at the same time, acknowledges the absolute sovereignty of God. We do not need to be more than what we are as persons. There is no call to greatness beyond the greatness 339 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 that we have as creations of God. The holiness of our existence is a gift of God to us. We are attracted to God because of the love he has shown for us through his Son. Our humanness has been blessed, and yet God has not been com-promised in any way. Many of the theologians of Kierkegaard's day looked for justification within humanity or within creation as represented by the natural world, but this was not something Kierkegaard could accept. He took on the difficult task of pointing to God who stands over and above all creation, and to humanity, which held a special place in the created order. Kierkegaard was clearly Lutheran in all of his basic presuppositions, and remained consistent in this position. I would suggest that an area for further study would be to see how these modes of life carry over into Kierkegaard's other writings and perhaps into his own life. NOTES ~Soren Aabye Kierkegaard, Purity of Heart Is to Will One Thing. trans. Douglas V. Steere (New York: Harper and Brothers Publishers, 1948), pp. 27-28. 21bid. p. 107. 31bid. p. 38. 41bid. p. 116. 5Ibid. p. I00. 7New American Standard Btble. 9Ibid. p. 80. ~2Ibid. p. 8 I. '~Ibid. pp. 126-127. ~81bid. p. 140. 2~Ibid. p. 191. 241bid. p. 206. ~71bid. p. 148. 3°Ibid. p. 150-151. ~Ibid. p. 52. SKierkegaard, Purity of Heart. p. 63. ~°Ibid. p. 79. '~Ibid. p. 88. ~31bid. p. 129. ~4Ibid. p. 127. ~6Ibid. p. 168. ~71bid. p. 51. ~91bid. p. 61. "-°Ibid. p. 151. nlbid, p. 47. "-31bid. p. 197. ~lbid. p. 93. ~6lbid. p. 122. 2Slbid. p. 158. ~91bid. p. 147. 311bid. p. 176. Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism David K. O'Rourke, O.P. Father O'Rourke is Associate Director of the Family Life Ministry for the Diocese of Oakland, CA and Adjunct Professor of Pastoral Theology at the Graduate Theological Union of Berkeley. He may be addressed: 2446 Estand Way: Pleasant Hill, CA 94523. In recent months two of America's leading scholars have made statements that bring the current direction of education for religious life seriously into question. Both of them, professors at the University of California at Berkeley, speak out of personal scholarship and accomplishments so respected that their comments merit a hearing. Speaking at the annual meeting of the American Association of Colleges in Boston, Professor Charles Muscatine, a Chaucer scholar and, from our point of view even more important, one of the most respected university educators in the United States, noted that American education has abandoned its proper role of teaching students how to make ethical judgments in favor of a concern with technical skill teaching. Speaking of the bachelor's degree, Professor Muscatine said it has become a "marvelous convenience for a mediocre society, putting passive acceptance.ahead of questioning, and propagating the danger-oias myth that technical skills are more important than ethical reasoning." His address received favorable comment in a New York Times editorial.~ The editorial continued "What am lherefor? is the student's and the teacher's perpetual question. To gain and give life skills and a glimpse of life's larger possibilities seems an appropriate answer to each of them." in a recent article in Commonweal~ Robert Bellah, Ford Professor of Sociology and Sociology Department chairman, described a structural change in American religion. Using categories of Ernst Troeltsch, which are com-monly used by students of religion, he notes that there has been a shift from the "church type" of religion, which ". we may briefly characterize as an 333 3311 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 organic conception of the religious institution for which the defining metaphor is the Pauline image of the Body of Christ," to the "sect type" which ". views the Church primarily as a voluntary association of believers." and which sees itself"., primarily as the gathered elect and focuses on the purity of those within . " This shift, he says, parallels other shifts. There is a shift from the civic and religious ideals which provided the underpinnings to the social ameliorization we saw in our past history in the United States to an "ever growing dominance of bureaucratic individualism." There is the shift in American political power from the eastern establishment to the sunbelt capitalists of Texas and California. And there is the shift in importance from the heavy industries of the north and east to the "technologically innovative industries of the south and west." I believe that we can synthesize the statements of these two scholars into a picture of a culture, both religious and civil, that is changing the religious life we see herein the west. It is also producing the candidates for religious life we are receiving here. And because of California's influence through its control of the media it is influencing the entire United States. The dominant influence in religion is a view of church life that is religiously subjective, personally pious, politically uninvolved, technically skilled and culturally unlettered. I believe that this view can be summarized as sunbelt sectarianism. Living, teaching and ministering in Berkeley for the past fifteen years, I have had the opportunity to see the rise of this new phenomenon. In October of 1966 I joined ten other Dominicans in establishing the first Catholic com-munity at Berkeley's pioneering Graduate Theological Union. Since that day hundreds of other men and women have come here for studies. The Berkeley venture has, itself, become a model for religious, theological and pastoral studies and formation. Those studies and formation, I believe, are more and more becoming a mastery of those same technical skills that Professor Musca-tine described, and less and less a development of the art of ethical reasoning which he sees as the goal of all education. Make no mistakeabout it, the level of skills he is referring to is high, in-deed. The University of California has few equals in its ability to train men and women in the scientific, social and professional skills that make our society run. However, as the Times editorial suggests, it is far less well equipped to teach its students how to answer the question "What am I here for?" The ministerial skills we are teaching in our pastoral training centers are also of high caliber. The art of working in the community as an effective leader and on the one-to-one level is taught at least as well as in other professions, like medicine and law. Current understanding of Scripture is well taught. Tech-niques in liturgical design and performance are also taught. The broader questions, however, like the one posed by the editorial writer of the Times are not explored in a way which allows the Church's traditional answerings of the question to be brought into the discussion. 1 do not dehy Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism / 335 that they are answered. I suggest that they are answered from within the context of sunbelt sectarianism. They are not explored within the context of church as Body of Christ. The questions are answered in light of the individual's personal religious experience, frequently an experience that led to entering into religious life. They are not explored in the light of the Catholic theological tradition to which the individual is exposed after his or her arrival into theological educa-tion. The latter may be used to establish some theological foundations for ministry. It is not really used, in my experience, to establish the theological foundations for the minister. These remain what they were when the man or woman arrived. Professor Bellah points out that each of the definitions of church that he uses in his article, including the idea of the organic church and sectarianism, has found a welcome within the Christian tradition. That is true. But within the Roman Catholic tradition the view of the Church as the Body of Christ comes closer to the religious and theological tradition that lies at the heart of the Church's life than do any of the other views of church. I am suggesting, it should he obvious, that we religious have followed much the same route as the universities. In our case, however, the deviation from what we should be about is more serious. An argument could possibly be made for universities devoted to transmitting technical skills. Less°argument can be made for Catholic religious orders that are not concerned, first and foremost, with answering the question "What am I here for?" and trying to answer that question, at least in part, by drawing on the Church's theological tradition. I would like to look a bit more into the situation described by Professors Bellah and Muscatine, especially as it can be related to education for ministry and religious life, by examining three sets of opposed values drawn from their statements. The opposed values are skill mastery versus life purpose explora-tion; creativity versus passivity; ethical reasoning versus affective moral intuitionism. 1 will begin discussing skill mastery versus life purpose exploration by illustrating the differences with a story. When I first began my theological studies many years ago I was taught by one of the country's leading moral theologians. Nearing retirement age, he went on instead to become editor for the moral theology section of the Catholic Encyclopaedia. In his years as a teacher he was respected for his ability to bring speculative principles to bear on concrete issues. We were all gathered in the lecture hall for the first class of the year, and he entered the room and climbed the three steps to the large platform from which the professor lectured. Since this was the first day of class we were all waiting for him to outline the course of lectures he was to deliver. Instead he did something quite different. After walking back and forth, and pausing to look out the window obviously thinking about something, he turned and just looked at us. Then he began to talk. "Increasingly in profes- 336 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 sional education, and commonly in seminaries, it is the practice to give the student enough training and adequate skills so that he can go about his work with competence and confidence. Here," he added, "we are trying to do some-thing fundamentally different. We are trying to provide you with a framework, conceptual and personal, within which you will be able to make sense of your own lives. Then we hope that you will be able to go out and help others do the same." And then, without further comment, he began his lecture. The difference between mastering a curriculum and making sense of life can also be seen as the difference between fitting into a world of someone else's design and establishing the moral and ethical parameters of your own world. I believe that this difference is also the difference between a skilled technician and a religious leader. 'Within the context of religious education it is the difference between accepting someone else's priorities for life and recognizing the need to establish your own, and ~oing this not as a duty but as a real, personal need. Professor Muscatine's statement, translated into the context of pastoral training and religious education, would say that specialization as a self-defini-tion has replaced religious and ethical probing as a means to self-definition. And skill training for ministry has replaced learning the art of making ethical judgments as the model for education itself. The second set of opposed values, passivity versus creativity, follows from the first. The individual learning technical skills begins his learning recognizing that what he wants is the possession of another, the mastery of a technique. What is of value, the particular skill or technique, is in someone else's hands, and the student works to gain what he does not yet have. The message communicated by the learning medium values the technical master's knowl-edge, not the student's lack of that knowledge. Life-purpose clarification, on the other hand, values the student's ability to probe and explore, and assumes that, here and now, he or she possesses creative abilities. In the process of trying to make sense of life all are equal participants. While some are further along in the attempt, and the teacher, in principle, has achieved some mastery of these human arts, all have the oppor-tunity to be creatively involved. The third set of opposed values is ethical reasoning versus affective moral intuitionism. Learning to reason ethically, as opposed to an affectively directed intuition of right and wrong, let it be said, is a supremely difficult task. Deciding what to do through a rational process of assessing the proper goals and the means to those goals is a far cry from deciding, based on feelings. In effect, it means abandoning a non-effort--intuiting right and wrong, based on how the individual feels about it--for the difficult effort of establishing internally coherent and systematically logical principles of human action. 1 submit that this is an effort of prime intellectual and personal asceticism. I believe that in our education for religious life and pastoral work we are institutionalizing affective intuitionism in the place of ethical reasoning, passiv- Withstanding Sunbelt Sectarianism ity in the place of creativity, and skill mastery in the place of life-purpose exploration. I am not so naive as to suggest that the replaced values were realized goals in the past. What I am saying is that they were stated values. Further, I believe that we are moving from these stated values to the newer ones in response to the influence of the current view of the Church as sect. We are living with a view of church in which it is effectively defined, as Professor Bellah describes it, as a voluntary association of believers. The difference between the two views can both be pictured and symbolized by the differing means of entry into each. In the Church seen as the body of Christ new members are baptized into a community of believers and become members of Christ. They are members in the root meaning of the word, a physical part of an organic body. In the Church seen as sect the new members make a decision for Christ, and are members in virtue of that decision. The membership is not organic as much as voluntary. The new values we are institutionalizing in our training for ministry and religious life fit comfortably within the definition of church as sect. They are at odds with the view of church as an inclusive body, the Body of Christ. The values being replaced fit comfortably within the view of church as Body of Christ. They do not fit within the functioning of a church defined as sect. There are obvious advantages to the view of the Church as sect. It draws clear lines between those who will live by its values and those who do not. So it is equipped to judge those who belong and those who do not. And in an age of clashing values, it helps to know who is with you and who is not. The function-ing of the Church as sect fosters clarity of values. Greys are washed out to the advantage of the stronger blacks and whites. There are also disadvantages. A church which distinguishes between the elect and the sinners will leave the sinners behind. Placing a value on the process of making that distinction will also surface a means to do so. Since the traditional theology of the church maintains that the distinction cannot be made, an extra-theological means will have to be found, like an affective in-tuitionism. And such systems, like a zealot's hunches, can prove unreasonable. The organic view of the Church, the Church seen according to the Pauline model of the Body of Christ, has many disadvantages. It is an inclusive Church, and an inclusive church is morally muddy. Combine this moral muddiness with the emphasis on moral decision making which I advocate, and which I admit is an art very difficult to master and beyond many people, and it can be a disheartening combination. It means that we will live beset by the suspicion that our moral decisions may not be definitive. But it is also quite possible that it is this very suspicion which has led religious leaders in the past to stress the importance of learning how to make ethical decisions. Technical skills can be mastered in a way that ethical decision ' making cannot. And this fact may lead some to see skill mastery as a more worthwhile goal than moral decision making. Our current education for reli-gious life and ministry seems to embody this view. But 1 would suggest that 3311 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 religious leadership can be,benefited more by an emphasis on moral decision making, an emphasis that is more at home in the Church seen as Body of Christ than in the Church seen as sect. NOTES I Jan. 22, 1982 2Dec. 3, 1982 The Coming Down ~Going up to Jerusalem . . ." I got used to-- There was such a dearness to it. A digging-in, yes-- A putting-t he-face-to-t he-wind . Going up to Jerusalem had its hardness. But, oh, the coming down . Coming down from Jerusalem The purpose is gone And even the trees forget their bareness and bloom again As if my journey had not been-- As if I did not leave my Love to the wind and the stars Under the snow--on a hillside . "Going up to Jerusalem." had its price, But, oh, the coming down (alone) Is beyond the counting . Sister Ann Maureen, 1.H.M. 11201 Academy Road Philadelphia, PA 19154 Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education: Some Tentative Theses Michael J. Buckley, S.J. Father Buckley gave this as a paper at the annual meeting of Jesuit academic vice-presidents in 1982. This year Father Buckley is Barman Scholar in Residence at the University of Santa Clara, on leave from the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley. Introduction In the pages that follow, 1 have tried to suggest certain reflections around the general and troubled topic of the Jesuit, Catholic university. I do so because 1 suspect that a central problem for many administrators of such institutions lies within the vagueness or even chaotic understanding of this governing issue: what it is that they are administering. What do you mean by a "Jesuit university"?. Is it basically the same sort of thing that any Catholic university is--something clear enough in purpose, however imperfect in reali-zation; but at the same time something variant, in that the Jesuit university is staffed in part by a different religious coterie and marked by a particular historical tradition, so that one speaks primarily about "Jesuit presence" when one talks about these institutions? Or are we talking about something that is radically different when we talk about a Jesuit university? Are we talking about a university with a cultural orientation and a peculiar set of emphases that make it profoundly different from other Catholic universities, granted any number of similarities among them all--differences and similarities which the administrator should be at pains to foster? Or is there something in between? When one assumes administration of such an institution, it is not unreas-onable for such questions to be asked. Especially in a university, there is a unique value in knowing what you are doing! 339 ~141~ [ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Appropriate as such a set of questions is, however, it presupposes too much. It presupposes that the content of "Catholic university" is itself already determined--a "cluster concept," at least, which all can recognize, agree upon, and discuss within. I think, though, that this presupposition is false. I think that "Catholic university" is as much of an ambiguity as "Jesuit university," and that many of the problems in understanding the latter stem from an incoherence in this more fundamental premise. Since that is my conviction, 1 have structured the theses of this article accordingly. 1 have first set down a series of statements which I think are true about Catholic universities in general, and then I have stated how I think these either have been or could be realized in the Jesuit university. The normal difficulties of such a task of description or definition are increased enormously for American Jesuits by a second fact, one which also touches the presuppositions for a series of questions on the nature of Jesuit higher education: American Jesuits are almost universally unaware of, or indifferent to some central foundational documents in their tradition. A strik-ing example of this was provided by a remark of Father George Ganss~ on the initial options posed byProject One:2 The second feature of Project One (Volume 4) which strikes this writer is the virtually total lack of references to or use of Part IV of Ignatius' Constitutions, the locus where he most succinctly, clearly and authoritatively enshrined his educational theory or rationale. That theory is his own application of the dynamic and apostolic world view towards which God led him . In Part IV of the Constitutions, he applied it to the formation of Christian persons in the secondary schools and universities which he founded and administered.3 In a subsequent discussion with Father Ganss, a prominent Jesuit educator remarked that the Fourth Part of the Constitutions was not only absent from the written reports of Project One, but from almost all of its discussions as well. It would be instructive, perhaps, to discover how many Jesuits have some knowledge of the characteristic elements which Ignatius placed in the Fourth Part of the Constitutions, as distinct from those which subsequent Jesuit educators specified in the Ratio studiorum.4 If Jesuits do not know the unique genius of their own origin in education, they cannot define a present stand for themselves in education by "dialoguing with their tradition." They are left to follow in their adaptations: (a) usages within their own memories and (b) the patterns and directions they find in American secular education. Perhaps the reason for the repeated failures of commissions, conferences and programs for Jesuit higher education is that these have represented individual or collective initiatives at particular periods, but initiatives without continuity with the organic development of the Society. Isolated from this continually evolving tradition, these initiatives lived briefly and died. Whatever be the accuracy of this reading of our present awareness of our Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / :341 historical meaning, 1 have tried to formulate the theses of this article with one such central foundational document in mind--the most important document, in my opinion: the Fourth Part of the Jesuit Constitutions. 1 do so, not because 1 think that American Jesuits of the twentieth century can or should copy or repeat these individual provisions, but because these spell out in the concrete Ignatius' view of higher education. Perhaps by looking at what might seem, at first blush, quaint or antiquated, the contemporary Society could sketch more perceptively an outline of what it is about today and enrich its self-understanding by drawing from its tradition some of its unrealized possibilities. The difficulty of any de~nitional inquiry is that its language must be prescriptive as well as descriptive, i.e. it must say something about what this thing is to become as well as describe what it de facto is. Consequently, any discussion of the idea of a university will always suffer from the accusation of irreality. But the value of such prescriptive discourse is that it can present something of a vision of what the institution might become and a goal towards which human beings might marshall their efforts. Finally, these theses are insistently entitled tentative. They are my first attempt to do something along these lines, and I am anxious to obtain modifi-cations, corrections, and suggestions of alternatives. The value of the Renais-sance "thesis method" was that positions were laid down which reflected a serious judgment and were stated with a precision and in a common language which made discussion and disagreement possible. The liability of the thesis method was that it tended towards defensiveness, polemics, and inflexibility. Let me attempt to allow for these deficiencies by positing these theses as "exploratory," as being a number of statements that I think are true and which are stated as directly as possible in order to invite the reflections of the reader. Hence, to speak again from the customs of an earlier time: "salvo meliore iudicio . " 1. The Nature of a Catholic University Thesis 1: The problem of the Catholic university is falsely stated if it is framed as if this university and the Church were two distinct, though inter-connected institutions. Counterposition: Father Timothy Healy, S.J., in "Belief and Teaching," Georgetown Magazine (January-February, 1982), p. 3: How does the Church live within a university? How do the two institutions interact on common ground?. The Church also lives here [in a Catholic university] in two distinct ways: first, it leads its own life on our grounds; secondly, the Church joins in, shares and influences the life and the work of the university itself. Comment: Such an understanding does not do justice either to the historical nature of the Catholic university or to its intrinsic uniqueness. Father Healy's "two distinct ways" could describe the presence of the Church within any major secular society, such as the City of New York. Catholic universities, in 342 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 contrast, are institutions founded by the Church, supported by the Church, and oriented to a unique service of the Church. Such a university is "Catholic" in a way that no city or state could be. Thesis 2: The Catholic university cannot be defined simply as a university where there is a strong Catholic presence. Counterposition: Father Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., "A Catholic Presence," Amer-ica, (5 April 1969), p. 397: A human institution is not transformed into a supernatural one; it simply offers an opportunity to persons with religious belief to share the life and the work of a university community--in freedom and sympathy that supports them . The quality and intensity of their presence will make its mark on the university . To have a Catholic university, then, means to have a Catholic presence at the university. Comment: The same cricitism could be offered of this understanding as of the first, with the added remark that it is actually a description of a secular university with an active and influential Newman or Catholic Faculty Club. Both this and the previous descriptions attempt to determine the Catholic university as being a university in which the Church is one important element. Thesis 3: The Catholic university cannot be described as Catholic simply through the activities of campus ministry, the presence of religious and Catholic lay faculty, and a requirement in religious studies. Counterposition: "Goals and Guidelines of the University of Santa Clara," January, .1979: If we are to honor our heritage, we must assure that Santa Clam remains a Catholic and Jesuit university in more than name only. We do this now in many ways: the activities of the Campus Ministry Office: the involvement of Jesuits and campus lay people in all areas of campus life: the presence of spiritual counselors in the dormitories; the com-mitment of men and women in the Christian Life Community to service of God and mankind; the exposure of all undergraduate students to courses in the Department of . Religious Studies; and the role of the Mission Church as both the symbol of Santa Clam's heritage and a dynamic focus of Christian activity. Comment: In this understanding, the purpose in the Church which the Univer-sity of Santa Clara is to serve is not articulated. Most of the presence of the Church is assigned to campus ministry and segregated off from the formally academic integration of the university and its more general intellectual life. The university exists for mental culture, but, aside from religious studies, Catholic reflection and theology are allotted no pervasive place within the development of such a culture. Thesis 4: The Catholic university is one form of the Church, one of the communities which are integral to the universal Church, as much a Catholic community as is the parish, the monastery, the family, a secular institute, a communidad de base, and a diocese. These differ radically among themselves, each having its own members, constitu-tion, government, origins and purpose. Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 3113 Comment: "Such an ecclesial origin of the university cannot have been fortui-tous. Rather it seems to express something more profound. But why does the Church need the university?. The reason for this need should be sought in the very mission of the Church. In fact, the faith which the Church announces is a tides quaerens intellectum: a faith that demands to penetrate human intelligence, to be thought out by the intellect of the human person. Not by placing it alongside what intelligence can know by its own natural light, but by permeating from within this same knowledge" (Pope John Paul II, "The Church Needs the University," March 8, 1982, L'Osservatore Romano, Eng-lish edition [3 May, 1982], p. 6). In the same address, the pope refers to these institutions as a necessity for the Church. Thesis 5: The Catholic university is that Catholic community in which the Church "strives to relate all human culture to the gospel of salva-tion" (Gravissimum Educationis, no. 8). This relationship is con-cretely to be realized both in the development of its students and in the advancement of this integral knowledge by its faculty. Another way of making this claim: "Secondly, the university is Catholic in its deliberate determination to render the Church this unique service: to be a forum where in utter academic freedom the variant lines of Catholic tradition and thought can intersect with the most complex challenges, contradictions and reinforcements of contemporary thought, moving towards a unity of world and Word, that all things be assimilated into the Christ. No other institution within human culture can render this critically important contribu-tion to the Christian community (as a whole), and without it the commitments of faith disintegrate into sectarian polemics whose only strength lies in their isolation from contradicting contact" (Michael J. Buckley, S.J., "The Catholic University as Pluralistic Forum," Thought 46:181 [June, 1971], p. 208). Comment: The Catholic university, then, essentially includes within itself the presence and the unique contribution of non-Catholics as well as the academic freedom which makes open discussion possible. Without the presence of vari-ant tradition it would be impossible that the Church could sponsor this rela-tion of the Gospel with "all human culture." Both Catholic and non-Catholic faculty have an appropriate contribution to. make to the advancement of the life of the Catholic university, and what is asked from faculty and students is not a particular credal affiliation, but that they be willing to enter into the conversations about those questions which constitute the formal academic character of the Catholic university (theses I 1 and 12 below). This integration of the Gospel with .culture demands especially the presence and contribution of non-Catholic Christians whose perspectives p~sh the radical questions about what Christianity really is, and what it really means, in the contemporary world. This means that the Catholic university is not the Church nor a microcosm of the Church nor even a community composed only of believers. Such a 3l~l~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 university is, however, rather one modality or form which the Church in-ternally develops in order to reach its full stature, in order to become what it must be. It is an assimilative sub-community of the Church, i.e. one that assimilates into the reflection consequently upon the Gospel the vast pluralism of persons and persuasions representative of"all human culture,"a community whose institutional determination is to render to the Church universal this unique service. The autonomy of the Catholic university from controls that would be properly exercised over a diocese or a parish is essential. This academic freedom from external controls is essential not only for its authen-ticity as a university, but for that comprehensive, free discourse which alone can offer the Church serious, disinterested, and uninhibited inquiry. Thesis 6: Hence, the Catholic university as a unique Catholic community is, like any Christian communit.v, essentially sacramental, i.e. that community which, with historical continuity and tangible percepti-bility, makes present for all human beings now the realit.v of Christ drawing all human culture to himself. Another way of making this claim: It is in and through the Catholic university that the mission of Christ to draw all human culture to himself is given historical continuity and visibility in the twentieth century. Comment: The Catholic university is not a university in which the Church has a strong presence. The Catholic university is itself, and as a whole, a presence of the Church. Thesis 7: The manner in which this understanding of the university is mani-fested in the Jesuit Constitutions is by (1) stipulating that the entire college[university is a residence of the Society, i.e., the entire college/university is a Christian, religious community (Formula of the Institute (5), (8)," Const. 289)," (2) orienting both the schools of humane letters and of natural science to their integration with theology (446-452); (3) insisting upon the Christian service for which these studies are undertaken, often concretized as .future teaching, and generalized as "the glory of God and the good of souls" (Const. 440; 289-290; 351; 446; 622). Comment: This orientation towards service received striking expression by Ignatius on December I, 1551: From among those who are now merely students, some in time will depart to play diverse roles--one to preach and carry on the care of souls, another to government of the land and the administration of justice, and others to other occupations. Finally. since young boys become grown men. their good education in life and doctrine will be beneficial to many others, with the results expanding more widely every day (Monu-menta Historica Societatis lesu. Epp. Ign. IV. p. 9). II. The Administration of a Catholic University Thesis 8: The academic leadership or administration within a Catholic uni- Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 345 versity is essentially a religious ministry. By "religious ministry" is meant something quite specific, namely that it is the. responsibility of the administration that the sacramental finality of the Catholic university be realized: the integration of human culture and the Gospel. This ministry is intellectual leadership, but that does not make it less religious. It bears directly upon the intellectual service of God, a pervasive ministerium verbi (Ministry of the Word), in which the Word is translated into varying cultures, in which a more accurate understanding is gained by its encounter with and advancement of these cultures and in which a new synthe-sis is obtained between faith and all forms of knowledge. This ministerium verbi is the first ministry which the Formula of the Institute lists in its enumer-ation of Jesuit apostolic commitments. The universities have a unique function in this ministry: to advance and to synthesize the Gospel and all forms of human culture. Comment: Thus the president, the academic vice-president, the deans, the provost--whoever de facto preside over the life of the university have a pro-foundly synthetic religious leadership as their primary task. Their leadership is not "religious" as opposed to "academic" or intellectual"---that is precisely the dichotomy that the university is to deny. But it must be stated that if the leader of any Christian community--be it a Catholic university or parish or family or monastery or hospital--is not persuaded of the appropriately religious charac-ter of his or her leadership, then the community drifts into secularization. Thesis 9: The manner in which this understanding of university[college administration is manifested in the Jesuit Constitutions is by the insistence upon the personal religious character of its rector (423) and upon the religious quality of his leadership, with learning and Christian life placed as a single finality (424, 490). Comment: There are no grounds for asserting that separate incorporation removes the essentially religious nature of Jesuit university leadership. It is not the case that the division of functions between rector and president meant that one was religious and the other secular: The rector of the community is the religious leader of the Jesuit commu-nity, and his function is to govern it in such a way that it is Jesuit in its life and supports this apostolate to which it is committed. The president of the Jesuit university is the religious leader of the univer-sity, and his function is to administer it in such a way that its life promotes that intellectual and moral integration of all human culture with the Gospel which is its purpose. See Pedro Arrupe, S.J., "The Image of the Jesuit University President," (August 8, 1975) Documentation 27/2. III. The Formal, Academic Catholic Character of the Catholic University Thesis 10: The formal character of any" university is not constituted by the 346 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 elimination or by the presence ~f any particular discipline. Comment: A university, to be a university, should include whatever passes as serious and disciplined knowledge. The exclusign of theology from a particular university does not mean in itself that it has excluded religious commitment; per se it means that it has fallen that short of being a university. On the other hand, the presence of Catholic theology on a university campus does not necessarily indicate that the university is Catholic; it indicates that it is just that much more a university. Thesis 11: The formal, academic character of any university is constituted by the order of the questions which are entertained and by the kind of knowledge which is considered most worth having. Comment: One would not expect restrictions upon discourse and study at the University of California at Davis, or at MIT, or at the University of Santa Clara. But the priorities in the issues to be investigated or the knowledge considered either fundamental or most important will be different in these different institutions. This trait will constitute the difference among them. " Thesis 12: The Catholic academic character of a university will be constituted by the quality and the influence of its theology, i.e. by the depth, rigor, and thoroughness with which theological inquiry is con-ducted and by the integrating influence of theology upon all of the other disciplines taught in the university. A Catholic university is one in which Catholic theology acts as an architectonic wisdom, one which draws the arts and the sciences and the engagements of the professional schools into an ongoing conversation about pre-suppositions, consequences, and common themes. Thesis 13." The Constitutions exhibit this understanding of the Catholic aca-demic character of the university primarily in the principal empha-sis which they give to theology (446). Literature, natural sciences and philosophy are oriented to this theological wisdom: their study prepares the students for the serious engagement in theology; theology unifies knowledge into a single understanding of the world, into a wisdom; the orientation of all learning tends to the same end ultimately as theology (447-451). Comment: The place of theology given by the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus is really quite different from that allotted to it by, say, Newman's Idea of a University. In Newman, theology would be one element among others in a circle of knowledge which forms the "philosophical habit of mind." In Igna-tius, theology is the principal and governing discipline in which the humane letters and sciences reach their natural completion (446, 450). Thesis 14: The formal academic curriculum of a Catholic university must be sustained by the surrounding presence of a more general Catholic culture that makes the daily life of the university itself. Jesuit, Catholic Higher Education / 347 Comment: Examples of this "more general Catholic culture" would be found in the quality and seriousness of its worship, the character of its collective morality and social concerns, the pastoral care of one member for another, the seminars and general lectures which it fosters, the atmosphere of intellectual and religious interests, and so forth (see Const. 481-489). IV. Agents of Integration of Faith with Culture Thesis 15: Granted this integrating function as the primary work of the administration, the principal administrator must be aided in his responsibility by subordinate officials whose ministry it is to see that this integration permeates the intellectual life (the Academic Vice-President), the social life (Vice-President for Student Affairs), and the religious life of the university (the University Chaplain). Thesis 16: Such an integral view of the Catholic university can never be realized if "campus ministry" is only or principally composed of those who are not part of the academic community and who confine themselves to the ob.viously liturgical and pastoral en-gagements of the university, i.e. if campus ministry confines itself to a "sacristy" or even to an "activist "function. Thesis 17: "Campus ministry" should be that interdepartmental committee whose function it is to assist the president in some aspects of his religious ministry to the Catholic university, i.e. the integration of faith with culture/life. Such a staff or committee is necessary because too many of the possibilities for such an integration can-not be realized in the present departmental divisions: members of the various departments should be invited to become members of this interdepartmental staff, composed of the University Chaplain and members of the university faculty, and full-time staff members. These are some implications and possibilities envisaged by this thesis: 1. The head of "campus ministry" should be the University Chaplain of the school, with the rank of vice-president to assist the president in his general religious ministry of the integration of faith and culture. 2. The majority of the members of the "campus ministry" committee or staff would also be members of other departments and schools. 3. Areas of religious integration which are open to such a "campus ministry" would be for example: a. Sponsorship of a religious/academic bookstore which would be a cen-ter of regular discussions, lectures, and seminars on the integration of faith and culture. b. Introduction into the campus of the great range of prophetic and intel-lectual movements within the Church, such as the Catholic Workers, Charis-matics, liturgical groups, Pax Christi, Rural Life Conference, Christian Family Life, Jesuit Volunteers--for the possibilities both of critique and of assimila- 341~ Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 tion into the life of the university. c. Sponsorship of prolonged engagements in Christian service which would be planned, supervised and reflected upon for their Christian elements and which would be of such an academic quality that the theology department could recognize them as legitimate courses. d. Through the presence of campus ministry on various academic commit-tees, planning groups, and other representative bodies, a continual source of the questions about the integration between these plans or programs and the purpose of the university. e. Through their presence within placement offices, career planning and counseling centers, a challenge to the university community, that the teachers would understand their lives and the students plan their futures as vocations rather than simply careers,.i.e, as a way of life and service within the world which is a response to the call of God in their lives, rather than a positive evaluation of obvious and secularly justifiable options. f. Organization of a rich and full liturgical life, which embodies such possibilities as the Morning and Evening Prayer of the Church, a eucharistic liturgy which follows the variations and harmony of the liturgical year, a series of "university sermons," etc., and which so integrates the university as a whole at certain solemn occasions that it is the university, as this form of the Church, which is at prayer. Thesis 18: To act as an architectonic wisdom, Catholic theolog.v must be restored as an integral discipline, distinct both from the more gen-eral "religious studies "and from an eclectic amalgam of disparate courses in Scripture or ethics or spirituality. "Theology "is here understood as an inquiry into the natu~'e, influence and claims of God as revealed in Christ, and "religious studies "as an investiga-tion of the nature and varieties of religions or confessions which have emerged in human history. Comment: As the architectonic discipline which integrates and marks a Catholic university, theology should be in constant interchange with the other sciences and arts, with the other schools, studies, and activities of the univer-sity. Theology gains in content and in method in its encounters with other disciplines; the other disciplines are drawn beyond themselves into a general academic unity by their discussions with theology. What kind of presence or curriculum-order is necessary to obtain such a dialogue can only be deter-mined by experience, but it should be of such a character as (a) to maintain theology as a serious and systematic study and (b) to constitute it in a synthetic unity with all the other aspects of the university. Thesis 19: Thus both theology and "campus ministry" have an integrating function within the university. Everything within the university is the object of the theological faculty as it attempts to move towards a synthetic vision which is a Christian wisdom, and of "campus Jesuit, Cathofic Higher Education Thesis 21: ministry" as it attempts to introduce that vision into practice and expand it in areas not under the purview of various departments. The manifestation of the sacramental nature of the Catholic uni-versity, i.e., of the historical presence of Christ drawing all human culture to himself, is to be found in every aspect of the university: in the priorities among the questions investigated and in the knowl-edge thought essential," in the quality of the intellectual, moral and religious life on campus; in the criteria by which decisions are reached and investments made; in the kind of recruitment informa-tion, of students admitted, and of faculty hired, and so forth. The Jesuit community is that local community of Jesuits who both collectively and individually minister to this kind of university. How it does so would be the subject of another twenty theses,t NOTES ~The Reverend George E. Ganss, S.J. is the distinguished translator and editor of the English version of the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. 2Project One was an attempt of the American Jesuits, initiated in 1973 and extending over the next four or five years, to identify and evaluate their goals and efforts in the apostolate of education. 3Project One, Volume #5, pp. 194-195. 4The Ratio Studiorum is the successively revised Jesuit plan of studies, an organization of curricula and of instructional methods rather than an exposition of educational theory. "What Should I Wear Today?" Thomas Ryan, C.S.P. Father Ryan is associate director of the Canadian Centre for Ecumenism. He is the author of Fasting Rediscovered: A Guide to Health and Wholeness for Your Body-Spirit and Tales of Christian Unity (Paulist Press). He may be addressed at the center: 2065 Ouest, Rue Sherbrooke; Montreal H3H IG6; Canada. I got up this morning and stood before my closet and asked: "What should I wear today?" Not so long ago the question felt like a helpful freedom; more and more it is feeling like a bother, and I frequently find myself resenting the loss of time and energy as I stand there in morning grogginess trying to answer the question. Where 1 live we probably face it more than would be the case elsewhere, yet Quebec is certainly not the only place in North America where the religious uniform has been traded in for secular dress. The history here is unique, but some of its consequences are shared with the rest of the continent. Some twenty years ago in a cultural revolution in Quebec, Canada, the Church was perceived to be too friendly with a government that had permitted the English to keep the key positions of economic influence and kept the French down on the farm. Both the Church and English economic dominance were thrown off like unwanted and resented yokes by the increasingly nationalistic French majority. Education and the university became the new place of worship and the leaders of the Parti Qubbbcois, the new high priests of the society. In the period of anticlericalism that followed, the French clergy traded in their clericals for ties and turtlenecks, and the sign of contradiction was reduced to a cross on a suit-coat lapel. "The anticlericalism was so pronounced," explained one sister who lived through it, "that at any public meeting we would go to, we were condemned by our apparent association with the Church before we even opened our mouths. We priests and sisters began dressing in 350 "What Should 1 Wear Today?"/ ~151 civies just to get a fair hearing and have what we were saying evaluated on its own merit." Among the English clergy in Quebec, there are enough "ties" or enough "collars" present to leave one genuinely feeling free in either direction. In other words, there is an unpressured climate for each person to sort through the value questions involved and make a choice, knowing the "tie" will not mean "radical" nor clericals mean "conservative." When I said jokingly to a confrere this evening that 1 was going to submit an article to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS entitled "What Should 1 Wear Today?" he immediately responded, "Oh, you mean, 'Who am I going to see today?"' He was quite right, and that's part of what bothers me. When l'm going to be meeting with Orthodox clergy, I wear black. When l'm going to be meeting With Protestant clergy, ! wear a tie. When they're both going to be there, 1 find myself playing one off against the other in my mind in a kind of who's-more-important- to-me game. What I am uncomfortable with is that it's my projection of the other's reaction to me that guides the decision. Where are my own convictions in the matter? 1 was thrown back on that question because I caught myself feeling like l'd made the "wrong" (political, not moral) decision. One day I put on a suit and tie to speak at a clergy study-day in the neighboring province of Ontario. When I arrived and saw all the collars and religious habits I was reminded again of what a different world Ontario is from Quebec. "Are you a local minister?" (he meant Protestant) asked one clerically-attired person who turned out to be a permanent deacon. The irony was rich. So I asked myself on the way home, "What are your values on this question?" Some years ago I was in an identity group of seminarians as part of a training program for counselors at the Center for Religion and Psychiatry in Washington, D.C. We spent a few sessions on the question, "What does it mean for me to wear or not wear a collar?" It's certain that not all of the participants drew the same conclusions from those discussions, but the operating principle that evolved for me from our reflections was a variation of "The habit does not make the monk." Dress that identifies me as a religious person is a means. If it will be likely to help advance some pastoral situation, use it. If it is likely to get in the way (as may be the case on college campuses with university students), don't use it. During that formative period, the important thing seemed to be secure enough in my own identity that I didn't need the collar as a crutch. Satisfied that my identity as a priest and religious was anchored within, and not in what I wore without, I proceeded to live these past years with no consistent external mode of dress. Yet, the question is not settled with me. Where the above rationale breaks down is in the presumption that I can always accurately project which mode of dress will be a pastoral asset or liability. In our secularized society, there is a growing Catholic consciousness of our mission for evangelization. We are becoming more aware of the importance of each of us witnessing, according to 359 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 our occupation and way of life,to a faith-centered existence. This awareness is perhaps renewing our appreciation of sacramentals and their potential to be an occasion of reflection for the casual passerby. To the extent that a mode of dress conveys a religious meaning, it qualifies as a sacramental. On this question of sacramentals, Sacramentum Mundi notes that "the statements of the Constitution on the Liturgy point to an emphasis on their character as a sign. But they do not answer the fundamental question, whether the sacramentals are not part of a special religious world which may be outdated by. the present-day experience of existence in the world. This [question]. has particularly far-reaching consequences for the usage of the sacramentals and hence for their theology, which must concen-trate fundamentally on their apt and proper use . Religion must not be seen in purely transcendental terms or merely as a dimension in depth. It must be classified in the category of a sphere of religious manifestations . The difference between nature and grace, and between the present and the coming age, justifies the existence of an order of sacred signs which express and manifest this difference." The habit, the collar, the cross, have not lost their power to be a sign of transcendence or of contradiction, a symbol that casts a question. But I do not always have the courage or the desire to stand apart. Or sit apart, for that matter. When I'm on the bus, I've noticed people will generally not sit next to "a collar" if there's another choice. On a plane, where people don't know who they're choosing to sit next to, 1 often feel more-than-the-usual hesitancy on the part of the other to normal social discourse. Or the reverse happens and one finds oneself in a not-so-private counseling session. And on the street corner while waiting for the light, I try not to notice the out-of-the-corner-of-the- eye glances that indicate one is being coolly appraised: "Hmm! What is a young (median clergy age today: 50!), intelligent-looking (well, at least my sister says that my receding hair line makes me look more 'intellectual'), athletic (I confess: it is getting harder) person like that doing in the priesthood?" When 1 was living for a time with a family in France, the mother said to me one day, "If you catch our guests kind of staring at you sometimes, don't take it personally. It's just that for us a young priest is, well, a very curious beast." What I'm coming to recognize is that there's going to be a negative reaction on the part of some people whichever way one dresses, and a positive reaction on the part of others. Furthermore, the guideline, "What will help or hinder my pastoral effectiveness in any given situation?" seems more and more presumptuous to me. Who can ever really know what happens in the hearts and minds of people when they see a priest in his clericals? If presumptive guesses about what others want, will be pleased by, or will derive benefit from are unreliable, then what is there to guide me? My answer is: my desire to make my life an articulate sign of the gospel I am trying to live. I am closer now than 1 was five or seven years ago to seeing how religious symbolism in dress can be an effective concretization of that desire. But as long "' What ShouM I Wear Today?"/ 353 as religious garb is connected with actions or life-styles that do not clearly reflect gospel living (which will always be the case to some extent), clericals or a religious habit will never be an entirely reliable symbol of communication. Thus it is that my choice on any given day is made with a certain flexibility and tentativeness, and with a sense of its built-in limitations in either direction. I was recently in a conversation with a group of priests and one of them told a story on four of the others that illustrates the point. "When I met you at the port on the first stop of your Caribbean cruise, 1 was surprised to see you were all wearing clericals," said the recounter of the tale. "Ah yes," one of the four affirmed, "we were not pleased with the cabins we'd been given, so we were trying to influence the ship's captain." "And?" "Oh it worked quite nicely. For the rest of the trip we were given any available suite." That's why many of the priests in. Montreal have switched to ties and coats. But I wonder sometimes on the buses and subways and street corners whether anybody sees that little cross on their lapel, and I wonder if we're using all available means of witnessing to the presence of God in a society hungering for meaning and ready to respect people who stand for something. If you and I should meet, what will I be wearing? Well, I'll probably be wearing the question inside and wondering if I made the best choice that day! The Incarnation and Chariots of Fire Halbert Weidner, C.O. Father Weidner published an account of the spirituality of the Oratory in our issue of November, 1979. He continues to reside at South Carolina's Oratory, the mailing address of which is P.O. Box 11586; Rock Hill, SC 29370. The Liturgy of the Hours has been enriched with an appendix of poetry and among the most recent poets represented there are the remarkable British pair of Edwin Muir (1881-1959) and Kathleen Raine (born in 1908). Muir is a poet much admired by such different writers as T.S. Eliot and Thomas Merton. Kathleen Raine's work on William Blake remains current and widely read. Her poetry, autobiographies, and critical works have drawn much praise and attention. Both authors are religious writers in the most profound sense of the term and, as poets and pilgrims, have something to say to both believers and unbelievers. Muir is relatively unknown in this country despite a sojourn at Harvard and, with his wife Willa, being established as the first and most popular translator of Franz Kafka. Muir is not a consciously modern poet. In fact, his devotion to tradition and accessibility may put off the professional literati. Still, T.S. Eliot said of him: He was first and foremost deeply concerned with what he had to say--and by that l do not mean that his purpose was ever didactic or that he was striving to convey a "message." But under the pressure of emotional intensity, and possessed by his vision, he found, almost unconsciously, the right, the inevitable way of saying what he wanted to say.~ The best introduction to the poet is his own story, An Autobiography. He was born in the Orkney Islands, off the north coast of Scotland, and so is claimed by Scots. Muir himself says his native language was really a mixture of Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 355 Norse, Scots, and Irish. Indeed, such words as creels (fishing baskets), bannocks (a fiat, unleavened bread), and byres (cow-sheds) are evenly woven into the narrative of his childhood. For Muir, the islands were not on the edge of the world, but were the "heart of civilization." The seasons nurtured each their own phase of an ancient culture. The Winter gathered us into one room as it gathered the cattle into the stable and the byre; the sky came close; the lamps were lit at three or four in the afternoon, and then the great evening lay before us like a world: an evening filled with talk, stories, games, music and lamplight? This winter time gave Muir his first introduction to poetry. The early ballads sung in the home came from an oral tradition about James V and Sir James the Rose. These songs were sung with full voice and personal confidence. Other ballads, late in the tradition, were "chanted in a literary way, in honor of the print in which they had originally come, every syllable of the English text carefully pronounced, as if it were an exercise."3 Spring carried the sacred rituals of breeding and killing--both aspects of farm life his mother tried to prevent him from seeing. He made sure, of course, that he saw both--though the activities of the bull and cow were not understood and the excitement was all in the activities of the men directing the affair. He did not, in the slaughtering, pity the animals, but somehow touched the terror and the need which were inextricably bound up in the process. "There was a necessity in the copulation and the killing which took away the sin, or at least, by the ritual act, transformed it into a sad, sanctioned duty.TM The spring, a series of vivid happenings, gave way to the summer, its opposite: a "motionless blue" in which "nothing happened." This nothingness demanded acceptance as the pivot marking the time of growth. This in turn gave way to the hard work of autumn and the feasts that defined the line between harvest and the winter. And so it went with each winter being favorite season of the farmer's child because it was the family time for play and song and story. The family religion was a fundamentalist Calvinism which combined early baptism with the stern demands for a later conversion and personal claim to being born-again. Muir's conversion, under severe pressure from his family, was sincere, but barely a prelude to his lapse from Christianity. His disbelief was, moreover, also the result of pressure. This time the strain came from the deaths of his parents and of two of his brothers when the family moved, in hopes of better employment, to the industrialized city of Glasgow. It was as if the Muir family in a few short years had been required to pay the price of the industrial revolution's whole century of devastation. "All that time," Muir remembered, "seemed to give no return, nothing but loss; it was like a heap of dismal rubbish in the middle of which, without rhyme or reason, were scattered four deaths.''~ The great city of free enterprise could not replace the agricultural community that once bridged birth and death with faith and ritual. As a young man forced out early on his own, Muir moved just south of 356 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 Glasgow to earn his living in what might have been the Checkpoint Charlie of hell: a bone factory. "The bones," he tells us, "decorated with festoons of slowly writhing, fat yellow maggots, lay in the adjoining railway siding and were shunted into the factory whenever the furnaces were ready for them." There was only one major problem: "There were sharp complaints from Glasgow whenever the trucks lay too long in the siding, for the sea gulls could gobble up half a hundredweight of maggots in no time, and as the bones had to be paid for by their original weight, and the maggots were part of it, this meant a serious loss to the firm."~ Thus necessity introduced the factory's most important ritual: a shotgun blast into the air over the trucks each half hour. It was in this atmosphere that Muir began a ferocious personal quest which included reading philosophy seriously. This led to Nietzsche and to a kind of socialism. He abandoned the tough Christianity of his family for a soft belief in "process." "Be hard' was one of Nietzsche's exhortations," Muir tells us, "but I was not hard enough to give up Nietzsche." Muir's hunger for ideas, as well as for communicating them, attracted the attention of A.R. Orage, editor of the New Age and a genius for gathering talented, left-wing, and sometime elitist writers. Muir had a high opinion of Orage, but a low one of his own work for him. Muir's column, "We Moderns," revealed, said Muir, that "whenever I hit upon a paradox which lay conveniently near the surface I took it for the final truth."7 Still, Muir was the rarest of twentieth-century beings: a non-university educated revolutionary. A marriage, "the most fortunate event of my life," led to a move into London for economic reasons. Eventually journalism and translation work allowed them the adventure of moving to Prague. This city became for them what Paris was for American expatriates: a city riding the crest of a billowing tradition and arriving at the edge of revolutionary changes. Now in his mid-thirties, Muir began writing poetry. "I had no training; 1 was too old to submit myself to contemporary influences; and I had acquired in Scotland a deference towards ideas which made my entrance into poetry difficult. Though my imagination had begun to work I had no technique by which I could give expression to it." He was a poet in the middle of life caught between a change in poetic consciousness. "There were the rhythms of English poetry on the one hand, the images in my mind on the other. All I could do at the start was to force the one, creaking and complaining, into the mould of the other."s In Muir's case, the distance provided by his experience of Prague as the far country, and some early psychoanalysis and dream work, led to a recovery of the childhood geography and the roots engendered there. If poetry incarnates meaning, as Muir believed, then this geography literally provided the ground for Muir's poems. He acknowledges this in his life's last poem: I have been taught by dreams and fantasies Learned from the friendly and the darker phantoms And got great knowledge and courtesy from the dead Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 357 Kinsmen and kinswomen, ancestors and friends But from two mainly Who gave me birth? This healing recovery of his roots and reconcilation with much of his unconscious gave birth to his poetry at the very time that Europeans were destroying their past: "They were lost and on the road to greater loss, and ready to accept any creed which would pull their lives together and give them the enormous relief of finding, even under compulsion, a direction for their existence, whether it had a spiritual meaning or not.''~° Muir saw the political left and right taking over the violent spirit of his native country's religious past: they were like the old Scottish covenanters who went into battle with banners reading "Christ and No Quarter." During the time of no quarter, Muir returned to Britain and began his eight-year association with the British Council, an organization promoting British culture. Prior to the war, Muir's office in Edinburgh set up houses for refugees and introduced them to British life. During this time Muir wrote more poetry in the midst of administration and the central issues of the day than he had in previous and more solitary jobs. British Council work eventually led him to Rome and his first major encounter with cultural Catholicism. It was here that he had his encounter with the Incarnation: During the time when I was a boy I attended the United Presbyterian Church in Orkney. I was aware of religion chiefly as the sacred Word. but nothing told me that Christ was born in the flesh and had lived on earth. [But in Rome] that image was to be seen everywhere, not only in churches, but on the walls of houses, at cross-roads in the suburbs, in wayside shrines in the parks, and in private rooms. I remember stopping for a long time one day to look at a little plaque on the wall of a house in the Via degli Artisti, representing the Annunciation. An angel and a young girl, their bodies inclined towards each other, their knees bent as if overcome by love, "tutto tremante," gazed upon each other like Dante's pair; and that representation of a human love so intense that it could not reach farther seemed the perfect earthly symbol of the love that passes understanding.~ Before Rome, a friend had pointed out to Muir that he was Christian in his images and his metaphysics. It had not occurred to him, but he accepted it. What the encounter in Rome did for Muir was to support him in his conclusion that mystery was at the source of life, that it lived and touched us, incarnate in what were not "mere" symbols, but the final reality. Symbols, which Yeats said united the "sleeping with the waking mind," also unite us to each other and to the generating reality that cares for all, past and present. Incarnation was a delight and good news to Muir, for whom nothing airy and abstract could hold the truth: "A religion that dared to show forth such a mystery for everyone to see would have shocked the congregations of the north, would have seemed a sort of blasphemy, perhaps even an indecency. But here it was publicly shown, as Christ showed himself on the earth."12 In the conclusion to his autobiography, Muir anticipated the theologians of our time in their interest in the theology of story: ~1511 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 As I look back on the part of the mystery which is my own life, my own fable, what 1 am most aware of is that we receive it from the past, on which we draw with every breath, but also--and this is a point of faith--from the Source of the mystery itself, by the means which religious people call grace.~3 When we read of this mystery in Muir's poems, we are struck by the plain language. But the poems demand rereading before the light that comes from the depths of human experience begins to dawn. One poem in the Liturgy of the Hours is called "One Foot in Eden" and may be taken as an example. It is composed of twenty-nine short lines of ordinary words~ but in it Muir has communicated a highly developed reflection on the necessity of choosing experience over innocence and then given depth to the Easter cry of O Felix Culpa.t Muir's Eden is both a place of innocence which must be given up and an impossible Utopia which must not be succumbed to. The world outside Eden awaits a judgment for its failings, but also attention to its special value: Blossoms of grief and charity Bloom in these darkened fields alone. What has Eden ever to say Of hope and faith and pity and love. Strange blessings never in Paradise Fall from these beclouded skies.~4 The other poem in the Hours collection is "The Killing." In it there is a remarkably graphic description of death that reaches back to Muir's childhood memories of farmyard slaughters. Muir suggests in the poem that an incarnate God is not what people want, and they will kill in their disappointment. The Incarnation, rather than being an easy myth that a longing humanity desperately creates, is really an affront and a capital crime. The poem ends with the question of an agnostic, a stranger, who wonders if, in the very act of dying, an incarnate God crossed his path. The wonder is a real enough grasp of the mystery and a crack for grace to move through. Muir did not come to a church and an orthodox form of Christian faith. But his insistence that meaning can only reach its fullness in the real world of flesh and blood, and his embrace of the world in beautiful language can certainly help us ordinary Christians to remain orthodox. Muir's acceptance of limits and his belief in their necessity so that there can be both definition and a grace that can take hold is a challenge to any spirituality that wishes to escape the human condition. This poet from the North Sea islands could, then, help us to purify and enrich the language of our prayer and our pulpits and lead us to embrace, and be embraced by the Word made flesh. Kathleen Raine If Muir i~ the poet of the Incarnation, Kathleen Raine writes of the Transfiguration. She is a pilgrim like Muir and now a stranger to orthodox Christianity though she had joined the Catholic Church for some years. She presents an interesting problem. Her experiences have led her to believe more rather than less, and so she moved away from Catholicism: Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 359 To me it seemed absurd to find one aspect of a total symbolic event less acceptable than other parts: mythical events (so I thought) are not to be verified (did they or did they not take place) but rather to be understood, as is poetry. If anything, I still continued to find the Christian myth, as comparett with the pagan richness of symbol, too meagre, and welcomed any addition.~5 She means here, of course, no denigration of the Christian faith by calling it poetry and myth. For her, the truths of existence cannot be expressed any other way. This is a position that she fought to get to and promote all her life. To get to it, she had to overcome the assaults of a narrow Christian upbringing and an even narrower philosophy at Cambridge University where she studied science. Writing of the Christian poet Vernon Watkins, who came to Cambridge at about the same time, Raine says: "Years later Vernon Watkins wrote a ballad on Abram and Sodom; but at the time acted like Lot and quickly left a town past praying for. He was not deceived by the prestige of ignorance in high places."~6 The scientific materialism prevailing in the university spilled over into a Marxist politics in one direction and into an analytically dry and thin literary criticism in the other direction. While at Cambridge, Raine began to write poetry that was in a romantic and mystic vein, twin heresies, which Cambridge literary leaders tried to tear out. She did have two great privileges in her time in the scientific Sodom. She was in the audience when Virginia Woolf came to read her manifesto for feminists, A Room of One's Own, and, because he was unpopular and unread there, she discovered T.S. Eliot on her own. Kathleen Raine's poetry is obviously based on her experience of the sacred, and in her three autobiographies, she is plain about some of these ecstatic and enlightening encounters with nature. What is reassuring to Christians is that her hints of the transcendent are not limited to impersonal experiences, but are also to be found in encounters with other people. What is constant in both is her belief that poetry and imaginative truth are intimately related in both experiences of nature and persons. Her devotion to the imagination as a voice and a revelation echoes a favorite quotation from William Blake, whose works Raine has really helped to make popular in our own century. Blake tells us: If the Spectator could enter in these Images in his imagination, approaching them on the Fiery Chariot of his Contemplative Thought . . . or could make a Friend and Companion of these Images of wonder, which always intreat him to leave mortal things (as he must know), then would he meet the Lord in the Air, then he would be happy.~6 Raine quotes Bede Griffiths, now a monk in a Christian ashram in India, to the effect that "the function of art is. to evoke the divine presence."17 She not only quotes the insight, she believes and preaches it fervently in her criticisms of much modern literature. Materialism and naturalism, she says, betray the material and the natural. She believes that the peasant had it right when he answered the question, "How can bread be God?" by replying, "What else would it be?" Of course, the difficult side to Raine is the superfluity of belief. She 360 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 remembers with joy the seriously considered polytheism of her old friend and Nobel prize winner, Elias Canetti. He told her, "If I believed in one God, I should be obliged to hate him." He would, she says, "rather watch supernatura supernaturans than relegate the supreme gods of all the ages from gold or stone to iron and the machine, to the ethnological section of any museum, or the files of case-histories."~8 Perhaps Cardinal Newman's dictum that the superstitious are infinitely closer to the truth than the rationalists might help us understand Raine's extremism. Extreme or not, in the poem "Word Made Flesh" is captured some of Raine's ability to convey an experience that uses Christian symbols well, even if they spill outside of Christianity. "Word" is described over and over in eight short stanzas: "Word whose breath is the world-circling atmosphere. Word traced in water of lakes. Word inscribed on stone. Grammar of five-fold rose and six-fold lily, Spiral of leaves on a bough, helix of shells. Instinctive wisdom of fish.and lion and ram. Flash of fin, beat of wing, heartbeat, beat of the dance." And finally: Statement of mystery, how shall we name A spirit clothed in world, a world made man?~9 The descriptions are all authentic application of the word or "logos," and challenge the Christian to find a more beautiful poetic expression of the Cosmic Christ of I Corinthians 15:28. Another test of authenticity is Raine's real ability to conjure the evocative power of language, not in the mechanical control of formula or the mystification of gibberish, but in the power which comes from the choice of images that resonate with the inner nature of things around us, including all and excluding nothing. One of the poems in the Liturgy of Hours comes from the 1952 collection called The Year One. The book title comes from a friend who said the historical applied only to humans and their toil because for nature "it is always the year one." The title of the poem is Northumbrian Sequence IV. Northumbria is a border county of wild weather, moors merging into seascapes and the site of Hadrian's wall built by the Roman emperor to keep out the barbaric Scots. The poem offered as possible food for prayer begins: Let in the wind Let in the rain Let in the moors tonight. The storm beats on my window-pane, Night stands at my bed-foot, Let in the fear, Let in the pain, Let in the trees that toss and groan, Let in the north tonight. The evocation continues to the heart of the matter: Let in the nameless formless power That beats upon my door. Incarnation and Chariots of Fire / 361 Let in the ice, let in the snow, The banshee howling on the moor, The bracken-bush on the bleak hillside, Let in the dead tonight. The poem continues to link individual aspects of nature with even more powerful figures symbolic of various dark sides of humanness. Then there is a question and a short response: Oh how can virgin fingers weave A covering for the void, How can my fearful heart conceive Gigantic solitude? How can a house so small contain A company so great? Let in the dark, Let in the dead, Let in your love tonight. The answer must be a gentleness and pity that understands the immensity of the forces at hand and does not shrink from them: Gentle must my fingers be And pitiful my heart Since 1 must bind in human form A living power so great, A living impulse great and wild That cries about my house With all the violence of desire Desiring this my peace. Whether an interior demand of self or of others, here is a promise of a presence that cannot be articulated or tamed, but is full of promise. The poem concludes with this stanza: Let in the wound, Let in the pain, Let in your child tonight. This conclusion is at once crushing and comforting: the alien forces so powerful, so destructive, so all-inclusive are nevertheless one child to us in need of father-mother. These forces, these other presences are not us, and yet are as close to us as possible, and so we need to claim them. The spell Raine invokes brings them home as one child. As in Muir, the acceptance of all promises pain. Raine is, in fact, afraid of anything that would take away the pain: "Buddhism;" in her view, ~"offers'release from suffering;~C- hristianity the Cross, heavy with all the anguish of the world, to be lived arid known as the very heart of a Mystery. I wished to understand that mystery, not to be freed from it."~0 In the other poem to be found in the Hours, we read: Sorrow is true for everyone--a word That illiterate men may read By divining in the heart God's human name, and natural shroud. 369 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 In that last image, perhaps we have the echo of the hard-won wisdom of another woman of sorrow, Cornelia Connelly, who saw in "accepted suffering" that "one simple remembrance of his presence that unwraps all the windings of the heart and makes us true as he is true." Kathleen Raine's poetry is grounded in earthliness and suffering, but she also sees more burning bushes than we do, and she seems to be constantly taking off her shoes in awareness of the sacred and the spiritual. She is a reminder to those with other vocations about the nearness of the transcendent and how the Word evokes its presence in a terrible beauty. NOTES ~T.S. Eliot, Preface to Selected Poems by Edwin Muir, London, 1965, p. 10. 2Edwin Muir, An Autobiographov, London, 1980, pp. 30-31. 3Ibid., p. 30. 4Ibid., p. 36. ~lbid., p. 104. 61bid., p. 130. 7Ibid., p. 151. Slbid., p. 205. 9Edwin Muir, Selected Poems, p. 96. ~°An Autobiography, p. 229. ~lbid., pp. 277-278. ~21bid., p. 278. ~31bid., p. 281. ~4Selected Poems, p. 80. ~SKathleen Raine, The Land Unknown, New York: 1975, p. 183. ~6Kathleen Raine, Defending Ancient Springs, London: 1967, p. 55. tTQuoted in Kathleen Raine, The Lion's Mouth, London: 1977, p. 25. ~81bid., p. 49. ~gKathleen Raine, Collected Poems: 1935-1980, London: 198 I, p. 20. ~°The Land Unknown, p. 188. Currents in Liturgy Notes on Liturgy Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Father Diederich has been professor of liturgy at St. Louis University School of Divinity and at Weston Jesuit School of Theology. He is presently an associate pastor at St. Francis Xavier Church; 3628 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. I want to offer a service in the area of liturgy to the readers of the REVIEW by furnishing them with a survey of current literature not easily accessible to them. I intend to focus on issues which are likely to be of greatest interest, namely, those dealing with the relation of present day liturgical practice to the forming and nourishing of Christian piety and spirituality. In the present survey in addition to calling attention to the themes of the national and international liturgical meetings of 1983 about which I have information at this writing, I have focused on articles and books dealing with concerns which have arisen around what I might call our post-conciliar, popular eucharistic practice and interior spirit. Unless I have overlooked some significant articles, I found in my reading that almost all the articles on the Eucharist were something of a critique of present popular eucharistic practice and theory, sometimes imply-ing, sometimes stating explicitly that it is somewhat unbalanced. By way of introduction to the survey of the articles on the Eucharist, I have summarized current evaluations of the overall liturgical reforms and their effect. I have also included a very brief, perhaps overly simplified sketch of the eucharistic piety and practice of the last one hundred years. National and International Liturgical Meetings of 1983 December 4, 1983, will mark the twentieth anniversary of the Constitution 363 364 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1983 on the Sacred Liturgy. This has set the spirit for some of our national liturgical meetings. From April 19-22, 1983, the Sixth Annual Pastoral Musicians' National Convention took place in St. Louis, Missouri. The title given to the convention was, "Remembering Into the Future." It was intended to help ". musicians and clergy of the United States and Canada to step back and look at the past twenty years--the changes, controversies, and developments of the American musical scene" (quoted from the program). A special feature of the program was a survey of the history of American liturgical music for the last twenty years, with presentations in five different sessions by a liturgist and a musician. The Notre Dame Liturgical Conferences are well-known for their uniform high quality presentations. The Twelfth Annual Conference, June 13-16, 1983, has as its theme, "Renewal! Perspectives on Twenty Years of Liturgical Change." Boston College is sponsoring a National Liturgical Consultation, June 19-22, 1983, with participation by invitation only. "The purpose of our meeting, expressly called a "Consultation," is to appraise the present liturgical situation in the light of (I) the pioneering efforts of the "40s and '50s, (2) the directives of Vatican 11, and (3) the experience of the last twenty years, with an eye to those measures that might be adopted in the immediate future" (from the program). The names of 16 participants appear on the pages sent with the program. It promises to be an important gathering, with a significant number present who were involved in those "Pioneering efforts of the '40s and '50s." The theme of the International Congress of the Societas Liturgica, August 18-22, 1982, in Vienna, Austria, is "Liturgy and Spirituality." When the topic for the 1983 Congress was discussed in Paris in 1981, the need was expressed for greater prayerfulness in our liturgical celebrations. We need to identify the spirituality of the liturgy because, "Spirituality, the life of grace in those who seek to live anew in Christ, finds communal expression in patterns of worship, ministry and service--in a word, in liturgy . In short, worship and piety, liturgy and Christian life.are tightly interwoven" (quoted from the program for the Congress). The 1983 Synod of Bishops is not a liturgical meeting, but its topic should have important consequences for the liturgy. The topic is, "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church." The Synod Secretariat at the Vatican sent out a kind of working paper to all the bishops on the theme and invited the national bodies of bishops to reply to some questions which were enclosed. The paper deals explicitly with sacramental penance but does this within the broad context of the Church's mission of reconciliation. We can expect a good bit of writing on the topic after the Synod.~ It is clear from the themes of the national meetings that there is a strong pastoral urge to evaluate our experience of the liturgical reforms, We remember the vision given us through the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. Notes on IJturgy / 365 The active participation at which it aimed is now in place in all the major sacramental rites of the Church. The changes have given us a new house of prayer. At least it has been renewed, remodeled, and rehabilitated. The ques-tion in the minds of many is whether the post-conciliar liturgical reforms are really renewing the Church. We were very optimistic that it would twenty years ago. We had hoped that the renewal of the liturgy would be the renewal program for the whole Church. Now the existence of so many different renewal programs in parishes in our country makes us doubt that it was. A possible answer, of course, is that we are not giving enough energy and effort to the liturgy. In 1980 the NCCB Committee on Parish Development reported to the U.S. bishops. The Committee stated, "The central responsibility of parish leadership is worship and the spiritual development of the people . In spite of this, the parish activity least often directly addressed in the parish development programs we have reviewed is liturgy . It appears that we do need to adopt a more direct approach to the development of liturgy and preaching."z Pope John Paul II still thinks that liturgical renewal should renew the whole life of the Church: "A very close and organic bond exists between the renewal of the liturgy and the renewal of the whole life of the Church" (Letter to All the Bishops of February 24, 1980). The Societas Liturgica Congress should be a stimulus to all liturgists to take a second look at how the promoters of the liturgical movement in the first decades of our century tried to make the celebration of the liturgy the primary and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit, as St. Pius X said that it was. His pastoral judgment that active participation in the liturgy is the pri-mary and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit, spoken near the beginning of his pontificate, November 22, 1903, has proved to be the most durable of all authoritative pastoral judgments made about the liturgy. It inspired the beginning of the liturgical movement in 1909. It seems to challenge us still. The theme chosen for the Societas Liturgica Congress bears this out. Evaluation of the Liturgical Reform There has been a significant trend in the liturgical journals during the last ten years to evaluate the ongoing experience of the liturgical reform. An Italian liturgist, Domenico Sartori, C.S.J., has done us the great service of making a brief summary of each of these evaluations.3 After summarizing them he identifies their converging points. First, he says that the writers agree that the enthusiasm and pastoral fervor with which the reforms were received in their first stages has waned and that now we find a certain weariness, routineness, and even downright regression in the communities which have implemented the reforms. Secondly, all are basically positive in their evaluation of the reforms themselves. There is convergence around what their positive elements are. These are the emphasis given in the reforms to salvation history and to a dialogical conception of the liturgy, to its ecclesial dimension, to the principle of adaptation, and to the relationship between faith and sacrament. They also ~166 / Review for

Issue 32.2 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1973 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should" be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor March 1973 Volume 32 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Religious and Social. Security William Quinn, F.S. . Brother William Quinn,F.S.C., is the Assistant to the President of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men of the USA; Suite 114; 1330 New Hampshire Avenue, N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20036. For some years the Internal Re~)enue Service of the U.S. Government has recognized that religious with the vow of poverty require a specific treatment under the law. In virtue of their vow of poverty, religious have no income in the sense in which this word is used by Internal Revenue Service. What-ever salary they might earn is in reality earned as an agent of their order, not for themselves personally. Because of this, religious have been exempt from the federal income tax; when the Social Security System was begun in 1936, .religious were excluded for the same reason: They had no income upon which to base the Social Security tax and which would serve to determine the level of benefits upon retirement or disability. In 1967 the House of Representatives of the U.S. Congress passed legislation extending Social Security coverage to members of religious orders under a vow of poverty. However, when the matter was considered in the Senate, representatives of religious orders requested time for further study of the effects of coverage. The provision was not included in the Senate: passed bill which went to conference, and th~ conference agreed to post-pone the matter pending study of the orders. The status of religious under Social Security was not changed in the Social Security Amendments of 1967. The 1972 Provisions The provision for extending coverage to members of religious orders that is contained in the 1972 Amendments to the Social Security Act is based upon recommendations submitted to the Congress by a joint Social Security study committee, established by the two conferences of religious superiors in the U.S., LCWR and CMSM. 210 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 On October 30, 1972, President Nixon signed into law the Bill, H.R. 1, entitled Social Security Amendments of 1972; this Bill is now known as P.L. 92.603. The Bill provided many modifications in the existing Social Security legislation, but Section 123 is of particular interest to religious since its heading is: Coverage for Vow-of-poverty Members of Religious Orders. Religious orders are given the option of electing coverage under Social Security for their members under a series of rather well-defined conditions. The option is open-ended, that is, there is no time limit for when this option must be exercised, but it is irrevocable once it has been made. It will then be binding upon all present and all future members of the order. This new legislation recognizes the special situation of religious with the vow of poverty by creating for the purpose of Social Security coverage a unique definition of "wages": "The term 'wages' shall include the fair market value of any board, lodging, clothing, and other perquisites furnished to such member." Two things might be remarked about this definition: First, it is in no way related to the salary a particular religious might be receiving, and second, every religious in the order has an assignable "wage." The services performed by the religious might actually be carried out in an institution such as a school or hospital, but for the purposes of this Bill these services are deemed to be performed by the religious as an employee of the religious order. The obligation of paying the Social Security taxes members of the order falls upon the order, and not the particular institution for which the religious might be working. The effect of this legislation is to allow religious orders (or an autono-mous subdivision, such as a province or an independent monastery) the option of entering the Social Security system. The rates of taxation, the conditions for claiming disability, and the requirements for old-age benefits are the same for religious as all other participants in the Social Security pro-gram. A retroactive feature is built into the legislation, to allow the order to make the effective date of coverage any time'up to five years previous to the date of election of coverage. The order must pay the accumulated back taxes for all of its members, starting with the chosen effective date, but in so doing a number of older religious Will qualify immediately for old-age and Medicare benefits. The answers to specific questions about eligibility, tax rates, and bene-fits must be found in publicatigns of the Social Security Administration, or by consulting local offices of the Administration. These questions and answers are part of the daily routine of these offices and should not present any great difficulty. Special Questions Some questions, however, do pertain directly to religious, and some of these present rather difficult technical considerations. Examples of these Religious and Social Security might be: What is an autonomous subdivision of an order; are alien mem-bers of the order living in the United States covered; what about U.S.A. citizens, living and working in a foreign country; when is a religious retired? It is relatively easy to know when a lay worker in a business enterprise is retired. The case of one who stops working and who is no longer paid a salary is rather obvious, but even with the layman there may be some diffi-culty in establishing the fact of retirement. This would occur, for example, in the case of a self-employed person who would substantially reduce the time devoted to employment. In the case of a religious, where the "wage" is calculated on the basis of room and board and other perquisites furnished to him by the order, the question as to when the religious is to be considered as retired becomes more difficult. Retirement, for a religious under Social Security, is defined in the new legislation as the situation in which the religious no longer performs the duties usually required (and to the extent usually required) of an active member of the order. In spelling out the interpretation of this definition for the benefit of the religious superiors who will have to make the certification of retirement, the Social Security Administration calls attention to two con-siderations: a comparison of the nature of the work being performed before retirement with that performed after, and the amount of time devoted to this service. Should a sister, for example, be assigned to the motherhouse after fifty years of teaching and there devote herself to monitoring the phone, it is clear that she has retired. The case is more difficult, say, for a con-templative sister who gradually grows more feeble with age and who is not able to keep up the pace of former years. She is considered to be retired, for Social Security purposes, when the religious superior certifies that she is no longer able to perform the services required of active members. A Typical Illustration The operation of the new Social Security legislation could perhaps best be appreciated by considering a particular case as a typical illustration of how the law would work out in practice. Suppose, for example, that Brother John Doe, born in 1917, has taken a vow of poverty as a member of a re-ligious order. Suppose further thai the prov.ince of his order elects to partici-pate in Social Security by filing the appropriate Certificate of Election, with an effective date of January 1, 1973. The tables of eligibility for retirement benefits and for hospital insurance (Medicare) indicate that 31 quarters of coverage are needed in order to be fully insured; this means that Brother John Doe must have paid Social Security taxes on his "wages" for 31 quarters, at least, in order to be fully insured. An important parameter in the discussion is the amount of "wages" on which Brother John Doe pays the tax. This is an amount arrived at by the religious superior of his province as a result of considering the fair market 212 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 value of the board, lodging, clothing, and other perquisites furnished mem-bers of the province. Suppose for the sake of our illustration that this figure is $2,500 per year. The province, beginning in 1973, must pay a Social Se-curity tax for Brother John Doe at a rate of 11.7%, or $292.50 per year. The tax rate will remain at 11.7% until 1978, when it will increase to 12.1%. This rate will continue through 1980; from 1981-85 it will be 12.3%; 1986-1997 it will be 12.5%. This tax must be paid until Brother John Doe becomes disabled or until he retires. Brother John Doe will reach the age of 65 in 1982. At this time he may apply for old-age benefits. By 1982 he will have earned 36 quarters of coverage, and he will therefore be qualified for both retirement and Medi-care benefits. The amount of Brother's retirement benefits are calculated on the basis of his average "wage" over a period of 26 years (this number is given in a Social Security table, depending on date of birth and whether the person is a man or woman). In Brother John Doe's case his total earnings are 9 × $2,500 or $22,500; this divided by 26 gives his average yearly earn-ings as $865, or $72 a month. The Social Security Administration table of benefits indicates that Brother John Doe qualifies for the minimum benefit of $84.50 per month, or $1,014 per year. American Experience of Mortality Tables show that, on the average, men who reach age 65 will live another 15 years. Applying this figure to Brother John Doe gives his total old-age benefits as $15,210. Medicare Provisions After reaching 65, Brother John Doe automatically qualifies for Medi-care, Part A, the hospital insurance part of the health insurance program. This provides payment for services received as a bed patient in a hospital, or in an extended care facility, or at home as a patient up to 90 "hospital days" or 100 "extended care days" or 100 "homeohealth visits." The details of these benefits are spelled out in Your Medicare Handbook published by the Social Security Administration. After reaching age 65, Brother John Doe may elect to participate in Part B of Medicare which is a medical insurance program that helps pay for doctors' services, medical services and supplies, and other health care services. The cost of this insurance is reevaluated by the Government an-nually, but was $5.60 per month for the period July 1971-July 1972. Again, the details of this insurance program are contained in the same Handbook referred to above. Brother John Doe may continue to work after reaching age 65; should he do so, he will continue to pay Social Security on his wages. Further, the first $2,100 of his wages do not influence the old-age retirement benefits he receives, but the $400 beyond $2,100 (recall that our example set Brother John Doe's wages at $2,500) reduces his benefits by a proportion of one dollar for each two dollars earned over $2,100, or, in our example, by Religious and Social Security $200. Upon retirement, Brother John Doe would receive the full amount of his retirement benefit and would no longer pay the Social Security tax. Upon his death, a cash benefit of $251 is paid the beneficiary of Brother John Doe. However, for Social Security purposes Brother John Doe has no dependent survivors; after the deathbenefit is paid, no further benefits are paid on Brother John Doe's account. The Question Facing Each Religious Order Each religious order is now faced with a rather complex question-- what would be the economic consequence of exercising the option of joining the Social Security system. The order becomes liable to the Social Security tax on all its present members add all future members; it also gradually qualifies its members through quar.ters of coverage for the benefits of the Social Security program, chiefly disability, retirement, and Medicare. The order must make a careful evaluation of its age profile, its wage level, and its health and mortality experience.', to arrive at a prudent judgment as to lhe advisability of joining the Social Security program. The retroactive feature of P.IS. 92.605, Section 123, requires special consideration. This will allow religious who have recently retired, or those who will retire in the next several years, to qualify for full coverage, but the price that must be paid is the back Social Security tax for all members of the order who were active at the effective retroactive date. This date may be any number of quarters up to '~a maximum of 20 prior to the date of election of coverage. The effect of not choosing the retroactive feature is that some of the present older religious will not qualify for Social Security benefits, nor will they be eligible for Part A of Medicare after reaching age 65. Detailed information on Social Security matters is contained in the .publications listed below. Also, more specific reference to Social Security as it affects religious with a vow of poverty is given in the series of questions and answers that follow. Critical Social Security Questions Question 1. For purposes of the law relating to the Social Security coverage of religious (P.L. 92.603), what are considered wages? Answer. Wages for the purpose of this law shall include the fair market value of any board, lodging, clothing, and other perquisites furnished to a member by the order or autonomous subdivision thereof or by any other person or organization pursuant to an agreement with the order or subdivi-vision. Question 2. Does the law provide for a minimum or maximum amount for evaluated maintenance? Answer. The legislation specifically provides that the evaluated mainte-nance shall not be less than $100 per month. The maximum of course 214 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 would be $10,800 under the 1972 amendments. The committee reports emphasize that the evaluation shall be on a reasonable basis. There is no indication that cost accounting principles must be applied. The committee reports also emphasize the understanding that there will be one established or evaluated wage for all of the members of the order regardless of the position which they occupy. Question 3. Are religious subject to both Social Security and income taxes? Answer. This law does not affect the vow of poverty but rather confirms it. Therefore, there would be no income tax liability on evaluated board and lodging. The Social Security taxes imposed on wages are limited by the law to orders which waive their tax exempt status for the limited purpose of Social Security coverage. Question 4. Will the religious be required to file any income tax forms? Answer. No, this law is not based on the self-employment concept as in ~the case of ministers. The only form filed is that which is required of tile employer; that is, the order or a subdivision thereof. Question 5. Who determines the level of income for a particular religious order or autonomous subdivision thereof? Answer. This is determined by the religious super:,or, based on a study of the actual situation existing with the members of the order or subdivi-sion thereof. Question 6. The order or subdivision thereof decides whether or not to come into the Social Security System; how is this decision made? Answer. The law does not specify how the decision is to be made. The provincial may get to~ether with the council and make the decision. Alterna-tively, the entire membership might be polled on the question. Question 7. If the order elects to come under Social Security, is this election irrevocable? Answer. Yes. Question 8. How many quarters of coverage are necessary in order to be fully insured under Social Security? Answer. Ultimately, the answer depends on the date of birth of the person being considered. It is necessary to go to a table supplied by the Social Security Administration to find the answer to this question. It should be observed here that, depending on the age of the individual, it may not be necessary to have as many quarters of coverage to secure Medicare coverage. This too depends on Social Security Administration tables. Question 9. Is it economically advantageous for a religious order to participate in Social Security? Answer. It is difficult to give a generalized answer to this question. It must be determined for each individual order. Three of the most signifi-cant factors are: the level of wages of the members of the order, the age distribution of the members of th+ order, and the benefits which would be Religious and Social Security / :215 receivable, that is, old age and survivors benefits, Medicare coverage and disability insurance and death benefits. Question 10. What retirement benefits are paid to a retired religious who has been fully insured under Social Security? Answer. This depends on the level of "income" on which the religious paid Social Security taxes during the years he was acquiring the necessary number of quarters of coverage; however, there is a minimum benefit paid to everyone who has the requisite number of quarters. At present this minimum is $84.50 per month or $1,014 per annum. Question 11. What is the situation with respect to a religious who pays Social Security taxes for ten years and then leaves the order? Answer. The credits a religious earns toward Social Security coverage belong to him/her as an individual; should the religious leave the order he takes the earned eligibility with him into secular life. Question 12. A religious man with sufficient quarters of coverage to be fully insured reaches age 65 but continues to work; that is, he is not retired in the technical sense of the term. What is his status under Social Security? Answer. Upon reaching the age of 65 the religious who has earned the required quarters of coverage may apply for Social Security benefits and he would be entitled to the same. If he continues to work, that is, he is not retired, the order must pay the Social Security taxes on his wages even though he is receiving old age benefits. If his wages are $2,100 or less, there would be no reduction of his old age benefits. If, on the other hand, they are in excess of $2,100 there would be a reduction of one dollar for every two dollars in excess of $2,100. The above answer would apply to a member of a religious order of women with the exception that she would be eligible for Social Security at the age of 62. Her benefits, however, would be somewhat reduced. Under the 1972 amendment a man may likewise be retired at 62 but his benefits would be reduced. Question 13. Is there any significant difference in the Social Security law as it applies to men or to women? Answer. The age at which women may receive benefits, and is the nor-mal retirement age for women, is 62, whereas it is 65 for men; however, men may retire at 62 and receive i'educed benefits. The required quarters of coverage to be fully insured differs for men and for women. The exact details should be checked with table~ supplied by the Social Security Administration. Question 14. Is there any time limit in which to elect coverage? Answer. No, an election may be made at. any time the order so desires. Question 15. Is there any time limit for electing retroactive coverage? Answer. No; however, if. the order defers the election of retroactive coverage for a significant amount of time it will be more costly when the order does elect to come in on a retroactive basis. The rate for the retro-active purchase of coverage is determined by, existing tax rates during the :216 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 five year period. For example, if an order elected five years retroactive cov-erage in December the tax rate for 1967 and 1968 would be 8.80%; for 1969 and 1970 it would be 9.60 and for 1971 and 1972 it would be 10.40. In 1973 the rate will be 11.70 and by 1978 it will rise to 12.10. In addi-tion to the increased costs it is possible that some religious will not be covered if the retroactive buy-in is deferred for a substantial period of time. Some members, for example, may retire and, consequently, will not be cov-ered in the retroactive purchase. Question 16. Must one elect for a retroactive period of five years or may one elect for a lesser number of years? Answer. The order may elect to "buy in" for any number of years it wishes, the maximum being five. Question 17. If a religious is active during the retroactive period and alive at the time of election but no longer a member of the order should he be counted in determining retroactive coverage? Answer. Yes. Question 18. When must the order pay for the retroactive coverage? Answer. By the end of the quarter in which the election is made. This payment must be made in a lump sum; there is no provision for an install-ment buy-in. Question 19. May an order elect coverage before the forms and regula-tions are finalized? Answer. Yes; notification of election of coverage may be sent to your district Social Security office. Question 20. When should a religious secure a Social Security number? Answer. As soon as possible. It is not necessary to have Social Security coverage in order to acquire a number. Acquisition of a number might speed receipt of benefits when an election is finally made. Question 21. If a religious subject to a vow of poverty performs ser-vices not required by the order but merely with the approval of his or her superior may he or she receive the benefit of this law? Answer. No, the services performed must be at the requirement of the religious order or subdivision thereof. Question 22. If a religious receives board and lodging from another organization (parish) how shall the wages be determined for Social Se-curity purposes? Answer. The tlat rate which is adopted for all religious shall prevail. Question 23. How much would it cost to buy in retroactively for a five year period at an evaluated wage of $100 per month? Answer. It would cost $612 per member who was active during the five year period and alive at the time of election. Some Available Literature 1. Social Security Handbook (SSI 135). This is available from the Religious and Social Security / 217 Superintendent of Documents and provides o]~erall ~nformatlon but nothing more recently than 1969. It will be 3 to 6 rrionths, before anything like its counterpart will be brought out. The volume c~sts $2.25. 2. Your Medicare Handbook (DHEW ,Publication; SSA 72-10050). This is available from the Superintendent of Documents at 35 cents in bulk rate, free for a few copies. The Handbook is available to anyone entitled to Medicare. 3. Your Social Security (DHEW SSA 72-10035). This provides gen-eral information and is available free from the Superintendent of Documents. 4. If You Become Disabled (SSA 73-10029). Available free even in bulk. 5. Your Social Security Earnings Recordi (DHEW 73-10044). Avail-able from the Superintendent of Documents. 6. How Medicare Helps You When You Go to the Hospital (DHEW 72-10039). This may be free in bulk. 7. Estimating Your Social Security Retirement Check (SSI 47). Avail-able free. Theological Reflections on the Ordination of Women Committee on Pastoral Research and Practices The Committee on Pastoral Research and Practices is a committee of the' National Conference of Catholic Bishops. Foreword This report prepared by the Committee on Pastoral Research and Practices has been approved for publication by the Administrative Committee of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. The report is not definitive. It deals only with the question of ordination to diaconate and priesthood, leaving aside the question of installation of women in ministries of lector and acolyte. It is a contribution to the con-tinuing dialogue on a subject of great importance. Its purpose is to encour-age further study and discussion while making honest efforts to identify the major questions which must be examined in depth before conclusive answers can be given. We are conscious of the deep love for the Church which underlies the growing interest of many women in the possibility of ordination. Our own appreciation of their indispensable contribution to the life of the Church underlies this effort at honest dialogue. Other churches are also engaged in a study of this question. While their reflections have been helpful to us, we hope ours may be helpful to them. Theological Reflections on the Ordination ot Women The question of ordaining women is an old one in the Church, but it has not yet been thoroughly researched for Catholic theology. There is no explicit authoritative teaching concerning the ordination of women that settles the question. The topic should be given exhaustive study. The theological reasons for and against the ordination of women need to be developed in careful and 218 The Ordination of Women / 219 objective fashion. A thorough study is required not because of sociological trends, but because of developments in the Church within the past decade. The encyclical Pacem in terris (no. 41) in 1963 listed the emancipation of women as a positive development of modern times. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (nos. 9, 29) in 1965 rejected any discrimination based on sex. The admission of women as auditors to the last two sessions of Vatican II (1964-65), the proclamation of St. Theresa of Avila as Doctor of the Church (1970), the discussions on this subject in the Third Synod of Bishops (1971)--these trace a considerable recent development concerning woman's role in the Church. The revelation given in Galatians 3:28 shows the equality before God of every Christian: "There does not exist among you Jew or Greek, slave or freeman, male or female. All are one in Christ Jesus." In the Church then there is no distinction of persons: Discriminatory lines have been erased by Christ. In the Church there can be no discrimination. The basic text and basic teaching, however, do not mean that there are not different ministries in the Church, or that one ministry is to be pre-ferred over another--as the same St. Paul taught in 1 Cor 12:4-14: 1. In spite of this doctrine of the equality of all in Christ, no woman has ever been pope, bishop, or priest. At the present time it cannot be proven or disproven that women were ever ordained deacons. It is Church law (Canon 968) that women are not eligible for orders. Several scriptural and theological justifications have been proposed to explain why women are not eligible for ordination. They are here listed-- in a general order of increasing importance--with some brief comments. 1. In the Old Testament, authentic priesthood was limited to males. The Aaronic priesthood and the levitical service (a service somewhat analogous to the diaconate) were similarly limited to males (cf. Exodus 28, Leviticus 8). This was in keeping with the strongly patriarchal Hebrew society. Be-cause we accept the law as invested with divine authority, we accept this limitation of Old Testament priesthood to men of one family within one tribe of Israel as expressing God's will-for the Old Testament. The exclusion of most males and of all females was then also God's will. This entire presen-tation, however, seemingly has no direct bearing on the issue at hand. We of the New Testament are studying the will of God concerning the New Testa-ment priesthood of Jesus Christ. 2. In the New Testament there is mention of a woman who was called "deaconess" (Rom 16:1) and of other women serving as deacons (1 Tim 3:11). Similarly in the early centuries of the Church, and especially in the East, there were deaconesses. Unfortunately no clear conclusions can be drawn from this information. There is no way at present to determine whether these women were called by this title in a formal or an informal way, whether the women in scripture were wives of deacons .who aided their deacon hus-bands, whether they were ordained, whether any ordination they received 220 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 was sacramental, etc. The uncertainty of Scripture scholars concerning an "order" of deaconess is illustrated in the Jerome Biblical Commentary, 53: 136; 57: 21. A similar uncertainty seemingly exists concerning the deaconess in the early Oriental Church. This deaconess tradition is helpful in approach-ing the present question. However, we must beware of constructing a case for or against the sacramental ordination of women on such fragmentary and indefinite information. 3. Saint Paul repeatedly directed that women hold to a subordinate posi-tion in the Church, keep silence in the Church, keep their heads covered, tend the home and family, etc. (cf. 1 Cor 11:2-16; 14:33-36; Eph 5:22-24; Col 3: 18; Titus 2:5; cf. 1 Pet 3: 1-7). There seems to be little question but these texts are of Pauline authority alone. The developments of the past decade in the Church listed in this letter, and the authorized functioning of women as lectors and commentators, further demonstrate that these Pauline texts should not be cited as arguing against the ordination of women. 4. The New Testament doctrine on "headship" as reflected in the order of creation is given to justify the leadership of men and the subordination of women in the Church (cf. 1 Cor 11:3-12; 1 Tim 2:8-15). This same reasoning is advanced to explain the ordination to the priesthood of men but not of women. This doctrine of the dependence of woman on man is seem-ingly the teaching of Genesis (cf. JCB 2:18) as well as of Saint Paul (cf. supra). However, much further study is needed before conclusions can be drawn. 5. The incarnation is given as a reason for the ordination of men only. The word of God took on flesh and was made man--as a male. This then was the divine plan. It is stated that this divine plan is expressed in the person of Christ (cf. Decree on the Ministry and Li]e o[ Priests, no. 2). It is argued that a male priest is required to act in the person of the male Christ. 6. The selectivity of Christ and of the early Church presents another ap-proach. It is known that Jesus did not hesitate to contravene the law and sociological customs of his time. Yet Jesus selected only men as his apostles and disciples. Further, the replacement for Judas was to be specifically one of male sex (Acts, 1:21 in the Greek), even though women who fulfilled the other conditions were present and available. Similarly the seven assistants to the apostles (Acts 6:3) were all men, even though the work was to be that of serving widows. This limitation to men, it is argued, goes beyond socio-logical conditions of that day and points to a divine choice. 7. Revelation is made known to us from tradition as well as from Sacred Scripture (cf. Constitution on Divine Revelation, nos. 8-10). It is then necessary for theology in this question to look to the life and practice of the Spirit-guided Church. The constant practice and tradition of the Catholic Church has excluded women from the episcopal and priestly office. The-ologians and canonists have been unanimous until modern times in con- The Ordination of Women / 221 sidering this exclusion as absolute and of divine origin. Until recent times no theologian or canonist seemingly has judged this to be only of ecclesiasti-cal law. It would be pointless to list the many authorities and the theological note that each assigns to this teaching. However, the constant tradition and practice of the Catholic Church against the ordination of women, interpreted (whenever interpreted) as of divine law, is of such a nature as to constitute a clear teaching of the ordinary magisterium of the Church. Though not formally defined, this is Catholic doctrine. These seven approaches have been used to document the exclusion from ordination of women. From them we attempt to draw six somewhat tentative conclusions: 1. Reasons no. 5 and no. 6 call for considerable further study in order to measure their validity. 2. Reason no. 7 is of ponderous theological import. Its force will not be appreciated by those who look for revelation and theology in Scripture alone, and who do not appreciate tradition as a source of theology. Because of rea-son no. 7 a negative answer to the possible ordination of women is indicated. The well-founded present discipline will continue to have and to hold the entire field unless and until a contrary theological development takes place, leading ultimately to a clarifying statement from the magisterium. 3. This question is extraordinarily complex. It is influenced by the indi-vidual's point of departure, viewpoint, and choice of terminology. Even in this study some helpful distinctions have not been spelled out for the sake of brevity. It would seem that neither Scriptural exegesis nor theology alone can give a clear answer to this question. The ultimate answer must come from the magisterium, and the current question is whether the magisterium (as reason no. 7 explains) has already given a definite and final answer. And at this level of doubt, only the magisterium itself can give" ultimate clarification. 4. It is possible to draw distinctions between the diaconate and the epis-copal- priestly order, and within the diaconate itself. Assuming that the diaconate is of ecclesial and not divine, institution, and that it can be sep-arated from the sacrament of orders, it would seem possible that special study be given to the possibility of a diaconate of service, non-sacramental and non-liturgical, which would be conferred on women. It has been noted that Pseudo-Denys in the 5th century made such a distinction within the diaconate. 5. Some contemporary writings on this subject approach priestly ordina-tion as "power" rather than service, and speak of a "right to ordination." Such views appear to overlook the clear doctrine that priestly ministry is service to the People of God, that no Christian has any right to ordination, and that it involves the mystery of God's free election. One who is not an ordained priest is not thereby, a lesser Christian, a lesser minister, or a victim of discrimination. In the Church there are many ministries, but all Christians do not have all charisms, and the hearts of all should be set on the greater 222 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/2 gifts of God's love (1 Cor 12:4-13:3). Further, all Christians share in the common priesthood of the faithful (cf. Constitution on the Church, no. 10); from among these some are chosen by God to minister to the others by priestly service. In such a context should this question be presented. 6. Beyond the question of theological possibility is the further considera-tion o~ what is pastorally prudent. For the present, however, we can see from theology only a continuation of the established discipline. Considering the strength of that discipline and the numerous uncertainties detailed in this paper, the needed study on this question is now just beginning. As is evident, every one of the points listed in this report calls for a major study. The German theologian Ida Friederike Gorres reminds us that it is God's will and plan that must be determinant in this question: The Catholic priesthood is a unique phenomenon, springing solely from the faith, the doctrine, the history, the growing self-consciousness of the Church: not from the religious needs of the Catholic people, certainly not from any principles or theories concerning the rights of men and women, nor yet from the necessity of particular functions which could be assigned at will to various persons. The one and only exemplar of the Catholic priest is the living person of Jesus Christ, in his relationship to the Church: in the mystery of the one, perfect, indissoluble life he leads, with her (Catholic Transcript, Dec. 17, 1965). Pluralism in the Works of Karl Rahner with Applications to Religious Life Philip S. Keane, S.S. Philip S. Keane, S.S., is the Vice Rector of St. Patrick's Seminary; 320 Middlefield Road; Menlo Park, California 94025. As a working theologian moves from place to place, he finds himself being asked questions on a wide variety of subjects and his interests tend naturally to move towards those questions which he is asked over and over again. In the past twelve to eighteen months there is no question which I have been asked about more frequently than the theological meaning of pluralism. The question has come from virtually all segments of the Christian community, but it has been asked with special urgency by the members of religious communities, with at least one religious community having enough concern about the issue that it has called for a serious study of pluralism in its newly adopted constitutions.1 Pluralism a Perennial P~oblem In a certain sense I have found the repeated questions about pluralism amusing. My amusement has come from the fact that my questioners (sisters in particular) so often seem to be presupposing that pluralism is a brand new issue, perhaps even a .brand new toy, which theologians have just lately discovered. Some of the questioners seem very excited about this new issue as if it will solve all their community living problems while others are quite frightened by it, but they all seem to have the idea that pluralism is a totally new problem. This I find amusing inasmuch as pluralism is a perennial problem which theologians have .wrestled with for centuries; it is hardly a new issue. Many of today's older theologians such as Karl Rahner aConstitutions o] the Sisters o] St. Joseph o] Carondelet, a Congregation o] Pontifical Right, St. Louis, 1972, p. 29. 223 224 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 have been working with pluralism for 30 or 40 years, that is, since before a number of my excited questioners were born. Thus perhaps the first point to be made to those who are either nervously or excitedly asking about theologi-cal pluralism today is that it is anything but a totally new theological concept. Nonetheless, theological plurfilism is a most important issue for the whole Church today and for religious communities in particular. Also, it is an issue which is not well understood especially from the theological view- . point. Hence, the goal of this article will be to aid our understanding of pluralism as a theological reality by presenting the concept of pluralism found in the works of Karl Rahner and by applying this concept to the situation of the religious community today. In the past 10 or 15 years Rahner has written very extensively and incisively on pluralism'-' and his work on the theme should surely be a help to us in forming a workable theological concept of pluralism. Divisions and Presuppositions Our reflections on the theology of pluralism will be divided into five parts: first, pluralism as a basic theological reality; second, the unique character of pluralism today; third, some consequences of today's pluralism for the Church as a whole; fourth, pluralism and the oneness of our faith; and finally the implications of pluralism for religious community life. The first four parts will gather and coherently organize Rahner's ideas on plural-ism. The final section will move beyond what Rahner says explicitly, but it will seek to be faithful to his views on pluralism. An important note before beginning the explanation of Rahner's writings on pluralism is that, as with any Rahnerian topic, the vastness and.depth of Rahner's total theological synthesis are such as to render the treatment of a particular Rahnerian theme such as pluralism somewhat difficult without at least some grasp of the whole of Rahner. In our particular case, for example, Rahner's metaphysics of human knowing as bipolar (explicit and implicit), his concept of God as indescribable mystery, his explanation of Christianity as an openness to all that is genuinely human, and his concept of man as ~Rahner's major articles on pluralism include "The Theological Concept of Con-cupiscentia," Theological Investigations (hereinafter T1) [8 volumes 1961-71; vs. 1-6, Baltimore: Helicon; vs. 7-8, New York: Herder and Herder], v. 1, pp. 347-82; "The Man of Today and Religion," TI 6, pp. 3-20; "A Small Question Regarding the Contemporary Pluralism in the Intellectual Situation of Catholics and the Church," ibid., pp. 21-30; "Reflections on Dialogue within a Pluralistic Society," ibid., pp. 31-42; "Philosophy and Philosophizing in Theology," Theology Digest, Sesquicentennial issue, 1968, pp. 17-29; "Philosophy and Theology," Sacramentum Mundi (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968-70), v. 5, pp. 20-4; "Theological Reflections on the Prob-lem of Secularization," Theology o] Renewal (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), v. 1, pp. 167-92; "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Church's Profession of Faith," Concilium, v. 46 (1969), pp. 103-23; and "Glaube des Christen und Lehre der Kirche," Stimmen der Zeit, July 1972, pp. 3-19. Pluralism in Rahner / 225 a future-oriented being whose most fundamental virtue is hope are all themes which form a substratum for his theology of pluralism? These themes will be given brief explanations as needed and the reader less familiar with Rahner is advised to consider them carefully when they occur. Pluralism as a Basic Theological Reality First of all then, what is the basic theological meaning of pluralism? Rahner began to develop his thinking on this matter in his well known 1941 article on concupiscence.4 Therein while discussing Heidegger's distinction between human person and human nature, Rahner makes the point that the human person, the source of human freedom and human longing for God, can never fully dispose of himself in a single action. Instead, man's person finds himself limited by man's nature as a material or incarnate spirit. Man cannot make a total act of movement towards God, an act which is uni-formly effective in all the aspects of human nature. For man's person which freely seeks God lives in an insuperable tension with his nature which limits his ability to move towards God. Some years later (1959) Rahner explained this kind of thinking further in another context when writing about the mystery of God) Here the point is that the mystery of God so totally tran-scends human knowledge that no concrete human experience or human expression can ever fully encapsulate the mystery of God. This mystery which is at the very root of man's being constantly eludes man's efforts to grasp or formulate it. At the level of concrete human knowing man does not have a total understanding of God. Rather man in his materiality and there-fore in his limitation has only partial knowledge of the mystery of God. The more he learns about God the more there is to learn, for God will always be the mystery who exceeds the depths of our understanding.~ Our life then is a day by day effort to see, follow, and love God more clearly, nearly, and dearly as the popular song from Godspell puts it. All this of course is no new insight. St. Paul said the same thing centuries ago: "Oh, :~Good background reading on these themes includes "Dogmatic Reflections on the Knowledge and Self-Consciousness of Christ," TI 5, pp. 199-201; "The Concept of Mystery in Catholic Theology," TI 4, pp. 36-73; "Anonymous Christians," TI 6, pp. 390-8; "On the Theology of the Incarnation," T) 4, pp. 105-20; and "The Theology of Hope," Theology Digest, Sesquicentennial issue, 1968, pp. 78-87. ¯ ~"The Theologi~:al Concept of Concupiscentia," TI 1, pp. 347-82. For what follows see especially pp. 368-9. In recent articles Rahner has explicitly shown how his present thinking on pluralism is rooted in his early writings on concupiscence; for example, "Theological Reflections on the Problem of Secularization," Theology o] Renewal, v. 1, pp. 187-8. 5"The Concept of Mystery in Catholic Theology," TI 4, pp. 36-73, especially pp. 46-8. 6Rahner pushes this position about God as absolute mystery to its ultimate radicality when he argues that God will still be m. ystery for us in heaven (ibid., pp. 53-60), and that in God all the mysteries of our faith are ultimately one (ibid., pp. 61-73). 226 / Review ]or Religious, Vohtme 32, 1973/2 the depths and the richness of the wisdom of God; how incomprehensible his judgments are, how unsearchable his ways" (Rom 11:33). Unavoidable Pluralism Putting these ideas together, we can see that both man's unlimited desire to choose God in freedom and his ceaseless yearning to know God with his intellect are limited in such a way that in actual fact man only chooses and knows God through a series of particular or partial acts of choice or knowledge. His choice of God comes through a multiplicity of human choices, his knowledge of God comes through a multiplicity of human acts of knowing.; All this leads Rahner to a basic dictum of his religious or theological anthropology, namely, that the inherently limited and seriated character of all human choice and knowledge of God means that all human experi-ence of God has about it a necessary and unavoidable element of multiplicity or pluralism. Since man cannot fully embrace the mystery of God in single actions, he must experience God through many actions. Pluralism thus be-comes a basic or fundamental element of man's relationship to God. Rahner states this in many ways in his works. He states that man is ever subjected to the agony of pluralism,s and even more strongly he calls pluralism a radical or irreducible fact of human existence.'~ Because God made man as a material or embodied spirit, man cannot escape from pluralism, from the fact that he must learn about God, and indeed about all of life bit by bit, part by part. There just is no other way for the human spirit. Any form of mysticism which tries to escape from man's bodiliness and multiplicity is a pseudo-mysticism in the opinion of Rahner?° It is particularly important to note that since Rahner's concept of plural-ism is founded upon man's way of knowing and choosing God, it is a radi-cally theological concept, that is, a concept asserting a basic aspe.ct of man's relationship to God. This is significant today because very often pluralism is bandied about as a sociological or political concept, whereas Rahner's idea of it is much deeper. The trouble with those who limit their concept of pluralism to sociology or political science is that, whether they like pluralism or not, they can very easily look upon it as a fad which will pass away. In :Rahner uses both Scotist approaches (the limitations of our freedom) and Thomist approaches (the limitations of our knowledge) in explaining pluralism theologically. In later years he tends mostly towards knowledge oriented or Thomist examples, perhaps most celebratedly with his concept of "gnoseological concupiscence" ("The-ological Reflections on the Problem of Secularization," Theology o] Renewal, v. 1, p. 187). But both ways are possible for him. Slbid., pp. 190-1. :"'Philosophy and Philosophizing in Theology," Theology Digest, Sesquicentennial issue, 1968, p. 22. 1°Hearers o] the Word (New York: Herder and Herder, 1969), pp. 77-9. Pluralism in Rahner / 227 particular those threatened by pluralism will wait for it to pass if they view it as a fad. But pluralism is not a passing fad. Its basic point is that no two of us ever experience and formulate our approach to God in exactly the same way. We are truly moving towards the "many mansions in our father's house." Ultimately then we must see pluralism as a theological issue. Problems of Pluralism Rahner's language in describing the fundamental phenomenon of pluralism raises some interesting questions. Why does he describe man as "subjected" to pluralism? Why does he call pluralism agonizing? Why did he begin to develop his treatment of it in the context of a theology of con-cupiscence? The answer to all these questions is that in Rahner's view it is man's irreducible pluralism which makes it possible for man to sin. It is precisely man's ability to explicitly grasp only partial goods or values which enables him to sin, to sin by absolutizing one or some of these partial values and thus shutting himself up in the finite,~1 closing himself to the unfathom-able mystery of God. The agony for man is that he experiences or perceives value only in partial and thus plural realizations. His very way o~ being drives him towards the multiple or plural values. The temptation to ab-solutize such values is the temptation to sin. Rahner's whole theology of hope, of man as a being who must be open to the future, a being who must refuse to absolutize the partial values of the present, is, of course, echoed here.l~ These thoughts bring up another problem. Do pluralism's close connec-tions with concupiscence, and hence its status as the occasion which renders sin possible make pluralism a bad or evil thing? Definitely not! This rejection of a condemnation of pluralism is one of the most emphatic rejections in Rahner's entire theological system. His whole reason for beginning to write about man's concupiscent movement after multiple and partial values was to insist that such movement cannot be called fundamentally evil?:' Rahner holds that it was the all good God who made us .as material and pluralistic beings and that, therefore, we must accept ourselves as we are in faith, in hope, and in love. Rahner is determined to teach that we should love the nature God gave us and this means that we must openly embrace our radi-cal, God-given pluralistic state. We simply cannot flee from it, agonizing though it may be. Are we ready to accept Rahner's challenge on this point? The Unique Character of Pluralism Today Our reflections so far have shown us that pluralism is a basic constituent of man's experience of God affecting all men at all times. But another vital 11,,Thoughts on the Possibility of Belief Today," 7~1 5, p. 10. V-'For a position similar to Rahner's on this point see Wolfhart Pannenberg, What is Matt? (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1970), pp. 68-73. ~:t"'The Theological Concept of Concupiscentia," TI 1, pp. 369-71. 228 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 point needs to be made. Why is it that pluralism, always a part of man's situation before God, has become such a particularly pressing concern in our times? Why are so many in religious communities suddenly talking about it? Why has a man like Rahner written so much on pluralism in recent years? To put all these questions more precisely we should ask the following: Is there something specifically unique about pluralism in the 20th century? Are there new factors today which further complicate man's fundamentally pluralistic situation? In answer, the first assertion to be made is that Rahner very definitely feels that 20th century pluralism is a specifically unique phenomenon in the history of the human race. He explains the uniqueness of 20th century pluralism by referring to the tremendous, historically unparalleled explosion in human knowledge which is taking place in our century.TM Man has prob-ably learned more (and therefore appropriated more multiple or plural values) since the beginning of our century than he learned in all the previous centuries combined. Thus, specialization has become the byword of our age. Each individual human being is learning more and more about less and less. Human communication is becoming harder and harder. In the 19th century those who went to college or graduate school could be rela-tively certain that their studies would include a good deal of the "liberal arts" and that they would arrive at basically similar value systems. Even in the early 20th century this was still so. Today, however, people are sent away to school to study various disciplines (art, sociology, psychology, literature, mathematics, and so forth) and they come home with such varied value systems that for all practical purposes they are speaking in different languages. Many segments of society experience this problem in-cluding religious communities. The situation is especially burdensome for persons in authority insofar as persons in authority are never again going to be able to learn enough to understand all the varied value systems and languages of the people under them. A Qualitatively New Situation Rahner gives his position on the uniqueness of 20th century pluralism a deeply radical meaning when he refuses to explain today's pluralism on a merely quantitative basis, that is, on the basis of the increased number of plural values which different men are learning about today. Rather he holds that the numerical increase in man's knowledge of pluralistic values has placed mankind in a qualitatively new situation,x'' The qualitative l~"Reflections on the Contemporary Intellectual Formation of Future Priests," T! 6, pp. 114-20; "Reflections on Dialogue in a Pluralistic Society," ibid., pp. 39-40; and repeatedly elsewhere in Rahner's works on pluralism. ~z"Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Church's Profession of Faith," Concilium 46 (1969), p. 104. Pluralism in Rahner / 229 difference is this: In the past the number of insights and values known to man was limited enough that it was at least possible in principle for one person or one group of persons to gather together the known human insights and values in such a way as to formulate one coherent worldview or philosophy of life which could be accepted and embraced by all men at least in a given part of the world. Further, in the past, the world's great civiliza-tions (Western, Oriental, African, American) were so insulated from one another by "cultural no-man's lands" that the fact of one civilization's philosophy of life not including the values known to other civilizations made no difference in practice,a'~ Today, however, the whole world is different; the barriers between the great civilizations are collapsing, and the number of pluralistic insights and values has so increased that it is simply impossible for any person or group to embrace all known values and thus establish a worldview which can attain anything approaching a universal acceptance by a civilization or civilizations.1~ This is why Rahner says that 20th century pluralism has put man in a qualitatively new situation: man can no longer thematize universally acceptable worldviews. 20th century pluralism is therefore radi-cally new. The adjectives which Rahner uses to describe it become stronger and stronger as the years pass. He describes today's pluralism as irreduc-ible, indomitable, unconquerable, unsurpassable, and so forth,as Another way of describing the qualitative difference between today's pluralism and that of the past might be to say that in former times the plural values perceived by man could be conquered by inclusion within one philosophical worldview so that they were reduced to diverse aspects of that worldview, to diversities within one philosophical system. But the differing values of today cannot be conquered or reduced to one system; thus we no longer have diversities within a system but instead we have something much more radical, we have a pluralism which is in Rahner's words unconquerable and irreducible. Rahner never precisely uses the words diversity and pluralism to characterize the old and new aspects of human multiplicity, but such a terminology certainly seems to fit in with his description of the qualitative difference between today's pluralism and that of former centuries. In any case the point is that pluralism, while ~"Philosophy and Philosophizing in Theology," Theology Digest, Sesquicentennial issue, 1968, p. 22. ~r"A Small Question Regarding the Contemporary Pluralism in the Intellectual Situa-tion of Catholics and the Church," TI 6, p. 22, and in a number of other places in Rahner's works. ~SAmong many examples of Rahnerian language of this type are: "Theological Reflec-tions on the Problem of Secularization," Theology o] Renewal, v. 1, pp. 188-90; "Reflections on the Contemporary Intellectual Formation of Future Priests," TI 6, p. 117; "The Man of Today and Religion," ibid., p. 20; "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Church's Profession of Faith," Concilium 46 (1969), p. 107. Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 always a fact for man before God, presents us with a new series of problems in our times. Consequences of Today's Pluralism for the Church What should be the attitude or response of Christianity towards the qualitatively new phenomenon of 20th century pluralism? Six different aspects of Christianity's response to today's pluralism can be distinguished. The first of these aspects is a general picture of Christianity's response to pluralism; the remaining five are specific consequences of the new pluralism for the Church. First then and in a general way, it can be said that throughout his writings Rahner comes across very strongly as a man who is deeply con-vinced that one of Christianity's most vital and essential tasks for our times is to accept and embrace the pluralistic situation which God has given us today just as all men in ages past have had to accept the experience of pluralism which God gave them. This open thinking is found in Rahner's works on non-Christian religions,19 on the secularity and godlessness of today's world (which Rahner says we must bravely and courageously accept because it has a positive meaning and challenge for us),-°° and on the pluralistic sciences which he espouses and encourages.21 Even the shrinking of the Church in today's pluralistic world must be accepted ~vithout fear and loved by the Christian as part of God's plan for us, part of salvation history?-° Definitely, theret~ore, Rahner sounds a clarion call to the 20th cen-tury Church to face without fear or escapism the task which God has given us of coping with the new pluralism. I have little doubt but that in future centuries, Rahner's brilliant and insightful challenge to the Church on this matter will be one of the things for which he will be most remembered. In so many ways it can be said that for Rahner the name of the game for the Christian today is to be open. The whole thrust of Rahner's thinking on anonymous Christianity suggests this. Specific Consequences Secondly and more specifically, Rahner holds that in the light of modem pluralism Christianity must give up the idea that its entire message and value system can be embraced in any one philosophical system and in par: ticular it must give up the idea that the Thomistic philosophical system can continue to be the one decisive dialogue partner in which all Christian in-ag" Christianity and the non-Christian Religions," TI 5, pp. 115-34. =°"The Man of Today and Religion," TI 6, pp. 1 I-2. '-'1"Philosophy and Philosophizing in Theology," Theology Digest, Sesquicentennial issue, 1968, p. 27. "-'~"The Present Situation of Christians: A Theological Interpretation of the Position of Christians in the Modem World," The Christian Commitment (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), pp. 3-37. Pluralism in Rahner / 231 sights can be expressed to the world. Rather in the future Christianity will simply have to accept a who~le host of diaiogue partners (the arts, the be-havioral, social, and pure sciences, Oriental philosophies, and so forth) in expressing the Gospel messa'ge to the world. Rahner says this explicitly at least twice~3 and gives many other hints of it as well. For instance, he says that we must study all the great philosophies of the world because in an anonymous way they may be,' as much or more Christian than our explicitly Christian philosophy. In other words we are moving into an age of Christian philosophies and worldview!, instead of an age of a univocal Christian philosophy and worldview. Note carefully that Rahner who is a Thomist never says that Thomism sl~ould be abandoned as a philosophy. What he does say is that Thomism can no longer be given the absolute, monolithic status ascribed to it in the 15ast by the Church. Instead it must constantly criticize itself, realizing that it can never express the fullness of the truth of God. It must relentlessly op.en itself to the lns~ghts of other philosophies, which must in their turn be~ open to it. No longer will there be any one philosophy of life (in the sense values) upon which the Chu~rch or communities within it can operate.~' Thirdly as a consequence of pluralism for the Church Rahner holds that since theology depends on philosophical thinking for its mode of ex-pression, the fact that there can no longer be only one exclusively Christian philosophy suggests directly that there can no longer be one theology in the Church. Instead there Will be many theologies, a fact that the Church I ¯ " must bravely accept as Rahner puts it. no way denies our oneness of faith (Rahner calls it credal oneness) but it does demand that in the future our expressions of the one faith will be plural, in accord with the plu~iformtty of human experience. Next, and closely related to the idea of many theologies, Rahner argues I . that the magisterium or teac, hmg office of the Church finds itself cast into a whole new situation by tod.ay's pluralism.-oG Rahner points out that on rare occasions the teaching office[of the Church will have to continue to operate in the traditional mode, that [is, by rejecting this or that theological formula-tion as inconsistent with the faith,z7 Much more often, however, Rahner holds that in today's plurahst~c world the magisterium will have to take on z~"Philosophy and Philosophizing in Theology," Theology Digest, Sesquicentennial ~ssue, 1968, p. 18; 'Phdosophy ~nd Theology" Sacramentum Mundt, v. 5, p. 23. ~4This position does not deny the underlying unity of our faith, a matter we shall consider later. '-'SIbid., pp. 23-6. Rahner does speak herein of a sense in which there is still one theology, but this will emerge in our forthcoming consideration of our one faith. "-'Glbid., p. 26; "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Church's Profession of Faith," Concilium 46 (1969), pp. 112-3. ~7"Pluralism in. Theology and the Oneness of the Church's Profession of Faith," Concilium 46 (1969), p. 113. 232 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 a new function, a function which can be well described as a challenge func-tion rather than a judgment function. The idea of this challenge function of the magisterium is that no longer can the teaching Church understand all the formulations of all the theologians as it did in the past. Thus the Church will often not be in a position to judge the works of an individual theologian. But she can challenge him. She can urge him to be certain that his formula-tions are faithful to the Christian tradition. By so doing the teaching Church can render real service to the individual theologian and to the Christian community as a whole. Obviously a magisterium which challenges more than it judges will have to be more trusting of its theologians, trusting that they are faithful to our traditions even when the magisterium is not totally clear on how the new formulas of theology relate to the faith. Rahner states that this new challenge aspect of the Church's teaching office is already occur-ring. 2s The whole situation also suggests to Rahner that today's magisterium will generally refrain from proclaiming new dogmas, as it refrained at Vatican II. A fifth consequence of pluralism for the Church today is a fact which we previously alluded to, namely, that persons bearing authority in the Church (including bishops, pastors, religious superiors, and so forth) are placed in an extremely difficult but still very important position by con-temporary pluralism. All of us, therefore, should be deeply sensitive to the burdens of those who hold ecclesial office. Rahner points out that at times such authorities may have to exercise authority traditionally, saying no to this or that.-09 In most cases, however, office bearers in today's Church will follow the style of the new magisterium by challenging their subjects rather than judging them. In this context a particularly important task for Church authority figures will be to maintain openness, that is, to keep any of their subjects or groups of subjects from so locking themselves to a partial set of values (whether liberal values or conservative values) that they fail to be genuinely open to the mystery of God and thus commit the ultimate human sin of absolutizing finite values. Need for Constant Dialogue The last and perhaps most important implication of contemporary plural-ism is that in our times Christianity must engage in a constant and genuine dialogue with itself and with the world around it. Since today's man realizes that his philosophy of life can never be a total or absolute system, he must constantly seek to correct and expand his own viewpoint by dialoguing with other men. Rahner points out that genuine Christian dialogue is truly possible in a pluralistic society because for the man of faith all true values in 2s"Philosophy and Philosophizing in Theology," Theology Digest, Sesquicentennial issue, 1968, p. 27. 29"The Future of Religious Orders in the World and Church of Today," Sister Forma-tion Bulletin, Winter, 1972, p. 7. Pluralism in Rahner / 233 various philosophical and theological systems are seen to be rooted in the one mystery of God. Values not rooted in the mystery of God are not true values and will be shown as such in the dialogue. Hence as we journey through history together, there is hope that men can come to understand how their partial expressions of value are integrated in the absolute mystery or absolute future of man which is God. Those of course who lack faith will not see human differences as resolvable even in our future in God. But for those of us who do believe, there is hope that full unity will be attained in the eschaton. And in this hope we can keep on talking with each other despite repeated misunderstandings. Our age is peculiarly an age of going to meetings, and no doubt many of us get tired of meeting after meeting. But, if we are to be Christians in these pluralistic times, it seems we must keep on having meetings no matter how boring they, become. As Rahner sees it, dialogue is the only possible mode of coexistence for mod-ern Christian persons."~° In ending this section an observation which ought to be made is that none of these consequences of pluralism we have just reviewed really solve the problem of how the Christian is to live and form community today. For in all honesty we have to face the fact that pluralism as it now exists is a new problem which the generations who have preceded us did not face in the way we face it. Thus nobody today really knows how to cope with our pluralism and our inability to form worldviews which large scale segments of society can accept. Rahner makes some suggestions on the matter for the Church as a whole, but even he admits that he is far more asking the question about pluralism than answering it.~1 This lack of answers to the challenge of pluralism may not make us feel comfortable, but we must realize that that is where we are. Pluralism and the Oneness of Our Faith An especially nagging question seems to underlie much that we have said. Is pluralism something like the dualisms of former centuries with their many gods? Does pluralism have some effect on our faith in one God? In the Rahnerian thought world the answer is quite simple. Theological plural-ism positively does not weaken the oneness of our faith; if anything it strengthens that oneness by focusing us on the true source of our faith instead 'of on the more superficial sources of unity upon which we too often relied in the past. To understand Our oneness in faith in Rahner's system, we must advert to a basic theme of Rahner's theological anthropology or vision of man, namely that there are two poles or levels to human exis- :~°"Reflections on Dialogue within a Pluralistic Society," TI 6, p. 35. The whole article is valuable on dialogue. :~lThis point is made clear by the title and substance of Rahner's article, "A Small Question Regarding the Contemporary Pluralism in the Intellectual Situation of Catholics and the Church," TI 6, pp. 21-30. 234 / Review lor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 tence.3~ One of these poles, in fact the more obvious of them, is the pole of concrete human activity and experience. This is the pole of human expres-sion, of human speech, of explicit consciousness and choice. On this pole or level the effects of man's materiality and limitation are clear, and thus man operates from this pole in a radically pluralistic fashion. He has many con-crete acts of learning and many forms of speech. He makes many choices. There is, however, another, a deeper and ultimately more significant level to human existence, a level which precedes the level of the concrete and multiple. This is the level of man's preconscious existence, of his deepest self-awareness before his God. Those who speak of man's funda-mental option are referring to this level of man's life. On this level rather than multiplicity and a myriad variety of human acts of knowledge and choice, man, if he is a believer, has a basic and simple openness to his God. On this level man in his radical openness no longer experiences a pluralism of values. Instead he knows one Lord and one faith. He and his neighbor may not be able to describe their faith in the same way, but as believers they are surely experiencing the one ineffable God. This level of transcen-dent human openness to God makes Christian faith community real. Our faith, therefore, is not hindered by pluralism. In fact, pluralism only serves to buttress our faith, because it forces us to realize that our faith can only be genuine faith if it is based on the unfathgmable mystery of God. No other source but this mystery can stand as an adequate ground for us as believers. Surely with this ground we can cry out in the words of Malachy: "Have we not all one father? Has not the one God created us?" (Mal 2:10). The Foundation in Tradition Rahner's position on human openness to the ineffability of God as the source of our faith and upon (he inevitable pluralism which begins to ensue as soon as we start expressing that faith finds much support both in the tradition of the Church and in modern authors. Traditionally, for instance, Christian authors have emphasized that the ways of knowing God by specific affirmation (via allirmativa) or negation (via negativa) had a validity .but still a clear limitation. Thus traditional authors appealed to a third way of knowing God, to the way of eminence or transcendence (via eminentiae), that is, to a primal recognition by man of the mystery of God. As Henri de Lubac has pointed out this third way is really the first and most fundamental way. a3 Among modern authors Bernard Lonergan in his new book, Method in Theology,34 gives particularly noteworthy support to Rahner's idea that we 3'-'"Dogmatic Reflections on the Knowledge and Self-Consciousness of Christ," TI 5, pp. 199-201. a:~Henri de Lubac, The Discovery o! God (New York: Kenedy, 1960), pp. 122-3. 34New York: Herder and Herder, 1972. In our context see especially pp. 265, 323, 326-30. Pluralism in Rahner / :235 all share one ineffable faith despite our various perceptions of that faith. Lonergan's insistence that true objectivity in man is not an "out there now real" set of facts, but rather man's honest habit of mind as he keeps him-self attentive, intelligent, reasonable, and responsible would seem to place faith on the deepest level of human openness while realizing that faith will be expressed in various formulations. Even more explicitly, Lonergan's carefully reasoned argument that what is permanent in our dogmas is their meaning, not their formula supports Rahner's effort to place faith at the core of the human person while being open to pluralism on other levels of human perception or choice. Perhaps the title of Rahner's article "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Church's Profession of Faith" sum-marizes all this very nicely?5 We may have to use many words but we still have the Word of God. Pluralism thus creates no fundamental faith problem. It helps us to see that our faith must be based on the mystery of God. Our openness to this mystery is the primary source of our existence as a faith community. It is true, of course, that Christians need other levels of communal togetherness and organization besides this primary mystery of faith level. Some of these other or "second level" approaches to community will be considered in what follows about religious communities. First, however, we must realize that none of these other levels will have any meaning unless we begin by seeing ourselves as united on the primal level of faith in God. Implications of Pluralism for Religious Community Life~ With less specific guidance from Rahner, but in the spirit of all that we have seen, what can be said about the implications of contemporary plural-ism for religious communities in the Church? First, if we accept the idea that a religious community is called to be a genuine sign of hope to the whole Church and if contenlporary theological pluralism is one of the most critical and fundamental challenges facing the Church today, the task of opening itself to and coping with man's radically pluralistic situation is one of the most formidable and vital tasks facing the religious community today. It seems to be the kind of issue concerfiing which the religious community must live up to its eschatological nature as a sign of transcendent hope for the whole Church, a sign that real Christianity is possible in the modern pluralistic world, a sign to the Church of where she is going. It is an historical fact that over the centuries, religious com-munities have been leadership organizations in the Church in times of crisis. :~SA section of Lonergan's new book has almost exactly the same title (pp. 326-30). a6White the title of this section speaks of religious communities, surely the remarks herein can be taken as referring to the various n6ncanonical religious groups in the Church today as well as to the canonically approved religious communities. Indeed, the noncanonical groups may have an especially important task in showing religious communities their possibilities in our pluralistic world. 236 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 In our times pluralism is the crisis and millions of persons throughout the world are seeking to overcome the alienation which can exist in our plural-istic world. New experiments in communal living abound. In the crisis of pluralism can the religious community live up to its historic role of leader-ship for the future? Second, if religious communities do face up to this challenge of assuming a leadership function in showing the Church its role in a pluralistic society, probably the most realistic forecast which can be made is that the days ahead are going to be days of agony and suffering for religious communi-ties, agony because of the very nature of pluralism, and because no one right now knows precisely what to do about pluralism. This does not mean at all that religious communities should give up hope or lose faith, but it does mean that the years ahead and the paths to adapting to pluralism are going to be most difficult. Just one example of this difficulty will be that almost in-evitably more religious will have crises of faith and perhaps leave com-munities, even later in life?7 For an honest facing of pluralism will create more options for the religious and these options will create more crises. Third, it would seem that the option being taken by a few communities of refusing virtually all change and forward movement simply is not a viable option in the light of the theology of pluralism. With the greatest respect for the good faith of the leaders and members of these communities, there is an honest question about how such nondialoguing communities can continue to exist in our pluralistic .world. It is true that these communities are doing rather well as far as incoming candidates are concerned. But are these candidates accepting the vocational task of building community amidst the pluralism which God has given us all? Or are they fleeing from that task and seeking after a security which refuses to admit that pluralism exists? The Option of Fragmentation Fourth, and of special importance, the option of "fragmentation," the option of a larger religious community dividing itself into two or more smaller groups with each group representing a particular viewpoint would also seem to be foreign, at least in principle, to Rahner's theology of plural-ism. Many religious are heard to call for this option today when there is so much clamor about the bigness of organizations and the value of small, intimate communities. While I can see real value in religious communities working out living arrangements based on small, relatively homogeneous groups, I would argue that the large community structure with its varying viewpoints should be retained in our pluralistic world. My reasons for saying this is that there would seem to be a great possibility that smaller groups of religious in cutting off dialogue with other thinking about religious ::rKarl Rahner, "The Future of Religious Commonities in the World and Church of Today," Sister Formation Bulletin, Winter, 1972, p. 4. Pluralism in Rahner / life would become ineffectual, would fail to grow in maturity, and would stand in a real danger of closing in on themselves in such a way as to become unresponsive to the demands of a pluralistic society. Incidentally, the danger of a select group becoming closed would be just as great for a progressive group as for a conservative group. The Pharisees are the classical example of a progressive group who closed in on themselves and subsequently became of little value to society. Further, the fragmentation option for religious seems to ignore another of Rahner's noteworthy themes, namely that the power inherent in a larger organization can be a genuinely redemptive value in a pluralistic society.3s The foregoing remarks against the fragmentation of religious com-munities should not be taken as an absolute stand against such fragmenta-tion. Rather these remarks are a general or "in principle" statement. Rahner himself points out that in some hopefully exceptional cases in life there is so little possibility of creating understanding that a particular dialogue must be broken off so that a group can keep dialoguing at all."~ In these cases other forms of dialogue must replace the broken ones, since genuine dialogue is essential for human coexistence in a pluralistic society. There have been a few cases in recent years of religious communities dividing; and who are we to say that these particular terminations of dialogue were not genuine in-spirations of the Holy Spirit, genuine efforts to establish other forms of dia-logue when one form had become impossible? In general, however, dialogue between differing viewpoints is so essential in a pluralistic society that the option of fragmentation should not be taken except under extreme and oppressive circumstances. Experimentation and Incarnationalism Fifth, if the religious community accepts its leadership mission for the world, and if it refuses the anti-change and fragmentation options, it be-comes clear that the most helpful (and also most difficult) option for a religious community today is to let its structures become open to genuine dialogue and pluralism in such a way that the community becomes truly re-flective of the actual condition of the whole Church today. This will mean as Rahner sees it that the religious community will be engaged in a constant process of. experimentation as it seeks to face up to new perceptions of value in our pluralistic world?" Such experimentation will stem from all levels in a community: individuals, groups, and organized authority. Only through such experimentation will a religious community achieve the true openness and dialogue needed in a pluralistic ~ociety. ~S"Theology of Power," TI 4, pp. 391-409. :~:~"Reflections on Dialogue within a Pluralistic Society," Ti 6, pp. 40ol. ¯ "~"The Future of Religious Communities in the World and Church of Today," Sister Formation Bulletin, Winter 1972, pp. 6-7. 238 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 Lastly, a religious community living amidst pluralism must advert to what Rahner calls the "incarnational principle" of Christianity.'1 This principle means that the ineffable faith unity which we share in the depth of our being must somehow become incarnate, must somehow be incorpo-rated into tangible structures. Otherwise we could never experience our faith unity. More particularly, a religious community as a small unit in the Church can never embrace all the possible incarnations or concrete ex-pressions of faith value. A religious community is thus only one form of faith expression. It is only one "social institutionalization''42 of Christianity. All this implies that in addition to its underlying faith unity, a religious community will necessarily have to embrace certain second level values (the first level is always our faith), certain particular incarnations of the mystery of God. Such second level values are genuinely worthwhile in a pluralistic society for they do lead us to the one God, though in a limited way. Traditionally, the second level values around which religious com-munities have been organized have included the confession of the members of a community (Roman Catholic), their apostolate, their sex, their vowed life, their prayer, their communal living, and so forth. Openness and Second Level Unifiers Now what, in our pluralistic society, can be said about religious com-munities' second level sources of unity? Two main points must be made. First, important though these second level unifiers are, they are not ab-solute expressions of the mystery of God. Thus the place, meaning, and even the continued existence of such second level unifiers of a religious community are subjects which cannot be exempted from dialogue if a re-ligious community is going to be genuinely open to the pluralism of today's world, to our inability to form a total worldview as we did in the past. A religious community which seeks to be open to the absolute mystery of God is not absolutely open to that mystery if it absolutizes any other points besides the one mystery. And when a religious community says that values such as the vows do not call for further dialogue and understanding, it is precisely absolutizing something other than the mystery of God; it is sub-mitting to the ultimate temptation created by our pluralistic situation, the temptation of seeking particular goods instead of the good. It would be most paradoxical if today's religious community were to submit to this temptation. The whole history of religious communities has been one of protest (by vows) against the absolutization of partial human goods such as marriage, wealth, and power. And even though this protest has had tremendous impact in the history of salvation, can a religious corn- 41"Membership of the Church according to the Teaching of Pius XII's Encyclical 'Mystici Corporis Christi,'" TI 2, p. 34. a~Karl Rahner, "Reflections on Dialogue within a Pluralistic Society," TI 6, p. 31. Pluralism in Rahner / 239 munity absolutize its means (and its understanding of this means) of dialoguing with the world, of showing the world where it must move in the spirit of Christian hope? Many examples of how a religious community must be open to dialogue about second level values could be cited. Apostolates obviously need to be reconsidered today. The vow of poverty is in great need of reassessment inasmuch as the mere fact that one cannot dispose of his or her own funds does not make one poor if he or she belongs to a rich community.4'~ To take another example which has probably been thought of a good deal less, who are we to say that religious communities are always going to remain ex-clusively Roman Catholic? Granted that Vatican II has already described the other Churches as true ecclesial realities, granted that Eucharistic Inter-communion is probably not too far off, granted that many young people in the other Christian confessions (especiall.y young women) find an idealism, way of life and apostolic zeal in Catholic-religious communities for which there is no parallel in their own confessions, and finally granted that more and more the real need is for a united Christianity to show its value to a secular (and sometimes atheistic) world rather than for Catholicism to show its value to Protestantism or vice versa, might it not ultimately be-come a genuine call of the Spirit for the Catholic religious communities to accept members from other confessions? While not offering an absolute answer, I hope the example at least helps make the point that dialogue on the values which I have called second level in the religious life seems to be an inescapable consequence of the theology of pluralism. Necessity of Second Level Unifiers Our second major observation on religious communities and second level values or unity sources is a strong reminder that, granted that these values are a constant subject of dialogue, growth, and change, a religious community movement simply cannot exist without some sort of second level value commitment and organization. The religious community must operate through a concrete value-unity structure in order to be open to ultimate value. It must have a concrete vocation if it is going to have a vocation at all. It cannot have its absolute, transcendental goal (the mystery of God) without expressing this goal in concrete goals. A religious community's concrete vocation and concrete goals are so necessary sociologically that, in the midst of all the open dialogue about them, they should be seen as a requirement for membership in the community. Those who do not agree with a religious community's particular goals may be perfectly good Christians, but a community will only retain its societal identity insofar as its members agree upon a particular sociological format for moving towards the mystery of God. This is why Rahner argues that authority in a religious community 43On this point see Karl Rahner, "The Theology of. Poverty," TI 8, especially p. 172. 240 / Review jor Religious, Volume 321 1973/2 may sometimes have to operate in the traditional yes or no method. Surely the yeses or noes of a religious community's authority can never be more than provisional since the community's self understanding and consequent second level values will grow and change in dialogue. But the fact remains that the growth process of permanent religious commitment (and this is what permanent commitment is, a growth process) can only function at a particular point in space and time through the acceptance of second level goals.44 Religious communities which have forgotten this point in recent years have had their troubles as a result. Conclusion By way of a concluding thought, especially for those who are fearful of what will happen to religious communities as they face their future with all its pluralism, I would like to make the very joyful and hopeful point that there are already some indications that an honest, pluralistic dialogue on religious life's second level values will probably do a great deal more to reinforce rather than to downgrade the traditional wisdom of the Church on religious life even though this wisdom may not be asserted as absolutisti-cally as it was in the past. For instance, I have noted and been truly inspired by the fact that Christian virginity has been emerging as a very deep seated value in the lives of some members of the noncanonical religious com-munities in which it is required neither by Church law nor by any public vow. In an era when so many priests, brothers, and sisters are questioning celibacy and virginity, this is most refreshing; it suggests that our pluralistic, open-ended society (which is, after all, God's gift to us) is not so much a thing to be feared as it is a genuine opportunity for spiritual growth. Per-haps it will teach us some things we have been trying to learn all along. ¯ ~4The insistence of second level goals does not of course imply anything like the detailed agreement which existed when religious communities operated from a homogeneous worldview. But some admittedly evolutionary sociological coherence on the second level is a necessity. Pluralism and Polarization among Religious George M. Regan, C.M. Father George Regan is associate professor of theology at St. John's University; Grand Central and Utopia Parkways; Jamaica, New York 11432. The recently published sociological and psychological studies of priests in the United States have no counterpart as yet in special studies about religious men and women. Tempting hypotheses could be constructed on the basis of personal experience and impressions about the levels of maturity and self-actualization among religious, about their attitudes toward authority, and about their opinions on specific issues such as birth control, celibacy, divorce, and liturgical practices. The surveys of priests indicated that widespread disagreement exists among various segments of the Catholic clergy on such issues and that deeply polarized attitudes seem rooted in profound ideologi-cal differences. In the absence of hard data leading to actual percentages of religious who hold certain views, one can nevertheless reflect on the divergence experienced firsthand in contacts with religious communities these days. Pluralism of approach, outlook, and conviction characterize religious at all levels of the same community at times, and comparison of one community with others easily substantiates this impression of diversity, which has re-placed the former uniformity. Pluralism reaches into all levels of community life, encompassing not only particular questions such as order of day, con-crete regulations on government, poverty, and style of dress, but also more fundamental aspects of the institute's l!fe, such as its purpose and nature in the larger Church, its basic ideals and values, and its charismatic qualities for today's world. Members thus find themselves split deeply at official chapters and in less formal gatherings on the most fundamental meanings of their religious life and on many more superficial issues. Coupled with this pluralism has arisen a sense of alienation, an outright bitterness about 241 242 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 the frustrating experience of division, or an aimless confusion. Polarization of groups may be discerned not infrequently. The vitality of individual religious and of entire communities has suffered immeasurably as a conse-quence. This extensive pluralism and the resulting polarization constitute a rich and inviting ground for thorough exploration by specialists in various fields. At times in recent years, some religious have tended to look upon their problems as mainly theological in nature, but further reflection casts grave doubt on the accuracy of this claim. In particular, the psychological and social factors of given attitudinal differences and divisions often feed into the situation more than do the theological and philosophical viewpoints espoused. This may be seen clearly in many contemporary divisions which have emerged between young and old, or between liberals and conservatives. Such divergences often manifest features closely resembling matters dis-cussed in development psychology or sociology in general. This article will concentrate principally on the more theoretical and intellectual roots of today's pluralism which underlie the theological, psychological, and sociological differences. In a sense, it will address the issue of the basic framework within which various groups of religious operate. It will not offer a litany of the specific differences which separate religious, nor will it provide a "medicine chest" of remedies. Our more limited purpose is simply to reflect on the different levels and .origins of pluralism in the ways of thinking and acting among relig!pus and to inquire into some possible means of coping with its sometimes unhappy results. The Death of Old Theory In an address to a committee of American bishops in which he inter-preted the results of the sociological survey of priests, Andrew Greeley claimed that "we have not yet discovered that our fundamental problem is the collapse of old theory combined with the non-appearance of new theory." In his usage, theory means those goals, values, models, and basic assumptions that allow the given human grouping to interpret and order phenomena, to justify its own existence, to explain its purposes to outsiders and new members, to underwrite its standard procedures and methodologies, and to motivate its members toward its goals. Though Greeley's comments regarding such theory concern priests alone, his approach has direct bear-ing on the question of the emergence of pluralism in all areas of American Church life, including religious communities. According to Greeley, the old theoretical structure began to crumble in the United States about ten years ago, and it has now disappeared, never to be restored. This rigid and unconscious theory emerged as a mixture of post-Tridentine garrison Catholicism and American immigrant Catholicism. It laid stress on loyalty to the Church, certainty and immutability of an-swers, strict discipline and unquestioning obedience, a comprehensive Pluralism and Polarization Catholic community, suspicion of the world beyond the Church, avoidance of re-examination of fundamental principles, and clearly defined models of behavior. The reasons substantiating .this theory were largely extrinsic and suasive, not decisive, for they were justified by one's loyalty to the teachings and structures of the Church and not by their intrinsic rationality. When various elements of this theoretical structure were thrown into doubt, the entire theoretical structure collapsed without warning. Since all rules, however minor, were viewed as immutable and unquestioned, change in even a few rules such as "meat on Friday" exposed the shaky foundations of the whole structure. The very suddenness of the change had excluded any opportunity to rethink the grounds of past assumptions and when these assumptions fell into disrepute, confusion resulted. Greeley believes that there exists virtually no theoretical perspective to replace the old theory, for the fads and fashions, clich6s and slogans of recent years lack sound and solid scholarship. His remedies for this situation center on the indis-pensability of scholarship in all areas of Church life. Scholars must get to work on building a new theory; and all levels of the Christian community must manifest openness, respect, and understanding for the results of their scholarship. One might justifiably criticize various elements of Greeley's presenta-tion, which sometimes verges more on polemical journalism than on ob-jective analysis. Sweeping generalizations about the old theory's "avoidance of re-examination of fundamental principles," and about the former lack of rational foundations do not ring completely accurate. One may well disagree with the actual cogency of the intrinsic reasons advanced for many past approaches, but it strikes one as gross exaggeration to deny their very existence, as Greeley seems to do. Consequences ot the Loss o~ the "Old Theory" His overall analysis seems true enough, however, and its application to the current situation which exists in many religious communities also seems clear. In a peculiar fashion and perhaps more strongly than in the priesthood, many religious institutes had embodied the chief marks of the "old theory" which Greeley describes. Disappearance of these characteristics or questionings about their presentday relevance have split many a com-munity or left it adrift aimlessly. The basic goals, values, and assumptions of past approaches to religious life constitute the kind of "old theory" which has undergone increasing challenge. Debates about such funda-mentals have obviously far more import than does disagreement about more superficial features in religious communities. How often does one not hear religious, usually older in age, wondering about the seeming decrease in loyalty to the community and its traditions among some members, the ever-changing views of the young, the lack of discipline and compliance with authority which has grown, the intrusion ~/44 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 of what seems a worldly spirit, the lessening in time devoted to formal prayer, an overstress on personal fulfillment, an endless questioning of basic goals, values, and principles, and the advancement of vague and im-precise models of religious conduct? It takes little effort to draw the sharp contrast between these tendencies and the "old theory" formerly in effect. Another group of members, on the other hand, may criticize the present situation and urge change from precisely an opposite vantage point: Why has the community not updated more its apostolate, life style, government, and spirituality? Why do institutional requirements outweigh personal needs? Such conflicting comments and complaints signal at the least that the members of the religious community have failed to agree on some essential aspects of their life together. Onguing Crisis If one were to accept Greeley's views, then a religious community which lacks agreement on a theory in this deep sense of goals, values, and basic assumptions must of necessity expect ongoing crisis, for it lacks the founda-tions needed by any human organization. Without such organizational ele-ments agreed to substantially by the members, the religious community will lack the tools to provide a rationale for its existence, thereby undercutting its ability to attract new candidates and to motivate its present members. The conflicting expectations of its members, furthermore, would in all likeli-hood lead to frustration and anger, which may become repressed and then manifested only in hidden agendas. The real issues which separate may appear rarely in open discussion; a superficial facade of friendly toleration may mask underlying divisions. Instead of religious' testing one another's assumptions in healthy confrontation and seeking to incorporate whatever seems of value, defensive listening may begin whereby one person listens caret~ully in order to gather information, or better ammunition, to contra-dict. In extreme cases, open hostility or full withdrawal into silence may eventuate. Such problems parallel closely communications difficulties de-scribed extensively in marriage counseling literature. In such an atmosphere, not only deterioration of the human relationships involved, but also de-terioration of the persons themselves must set in eventually. Need for Substantial Agreement This sobering prospect lends a special urgency to the continuing task of striving to clarify and reach substantial agreement on the fundamentals of each religious community. If the members differ broadly on the very purpose and values of the community, how can they realistically expect one another to pursue vigorously and in unison some common goals? The various issues which polarize groups may, in fact, be symptoms of the deeper pathology in the religious community: a lack of common goals, values, and assump-tions essential to the life of the organism. For example, when large numbers Pluralism and Polarization / 245 of religious in a teaching community favor direct social work for the poor, the issue of the apostolic purpose of the institute should be addressed courageously. Similarly, communities which experience sharp and immense diversity among the members on their inner identity as contemplatives or apostolically oriented religious should discuss the matter openly, rather than avoiding the problem or simply drifting indecisively into a new identity through the sheer force of circumstances. When religious of the same community differ enormously on such a basic point of their common life as that of the character of the institute, they have little reason to hope for harmonious concord on lesser ideals and values. The more that significant pluralism enters these foundational areas of goals, values,, and basic assumptions regarding the community itself, the more the members should expect a sense of aimlessness, disunity, and confusion, it would seem. Unless some shared meanings emerge at these deep levels of their life together, religious must prepare for the inevitable results which flow from vague and overly general goals and values. Un-fortunately, dialogue may at times neglect these basic levels of religious life and concentrate on the more superficial, day-to-day aspects or happenings. Such failure may even carry over into official discussions at chapter and the like where extreme defensiveness or closed-mindedness can prevent needed exchange of opinions among the members. In a positive way, therefore, it seems incumbent on religious, especially those in higher authority, to raise these issues when disagreement exists below the surface and to foster free airing of views in the hope of clarifying goals and values. This seems a healthier solution than pretending outwardly that the members amicably share the same opinions. Some meeting of minds may follow more readily in this unhampered atmosphere, despite the anxieties created by confronta-tion. The Roots of Change Greeley's analysis of the contemporary situation in the Church and in the American priesthood is professedly that of a sociologist. When he speaks of the disappearance or collapse of the old theory, therefore, he refers hardly at all to the philosophical and theological underpinnings of the old theory, which he discusses more in empirical terms. Appreciation of these more theoretical dimensions may assist us in gaining additional insight into the roots of pluralism and in evaluating proposed means of coping with it. We shall direct our attention to two matters in particular: the emergence of pluralism in ecclesiology today, and the shift from a classicist to an his-torically conscious worldview. Pluralism in Ecdesiology Though Greeley mentions the death of post-Tridentine garrison Cathol-icism, he does not explore the highly juridical theology of the Church which 246 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 had justified these tightly knit patterns of behavior. This ecclesiology often found direct application to the models of authority and the corresponding structures employed in religious communities. The overcentralization, lack of sufficient subsidiarity, and overly juridical conception of authority found in the Church at large and in diocesan structures existed in religious com~ munities as well and rested its common roots in this understanding of the Church. This former approach to a theology of the Church had the added implication of overstressing the divine element of the holy Church, in too great contrast at times with the so-called profane world. In failing to give enough weight to positive elements outside the Church and to see God present there among men, "this understanding lent a basis to a spirituality tinged with suspicion of the world, "merely natural" or human values, and human institutions. God's self-communication seems relegated more readily to the more narrowly institutional context of the Church and open dialogue with the world appears foreign or dangerous in this conception. Religious communities which operated within this conceptual framework more natur-ally took on reservations about contacts with the world and the need to separate oneself from its perverting influences gained favor. By way of contrast, many contemporary writings which view the Church as servant and healer of the total human society understand her as essentially related to the world; and they take a far more accepting view of human values and institutions: the Church "goes forward together with humanity and experiences the same earthly lot which the world does. She serves as a leaven and as a kind of soul for human society as it is to be renewed in Christ and transformed into God's family" (The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, no. 40). The more that individual religious communities as a whole have taken on this more openly secular approach, which views the world and human values more favorably, the more they customarily take a somewhat negative view of factors which are viewed as separating the religious from the world or from human customs. Resulting Disagreements Inevitable disagreements must exist in religious communities and throughout the entire Church so long as disagreement exists on such funda-mental approaches to a theology of the Church. Pluralism among religious in this basic theological area sometimes underlies the members' differing convictions on contact with or separation from other people, openness or closedness to human standards and patterns of conduct, and general in-volvement with or disassociation from ordinary human events. Disputes about religious garb, about freedom to come and go, about visiting with laity or entering into friendship with them, and about attendance at or participa-tion in recreational or sports activities sometimes stem from more profound differences about the way in .which religious are conceived of in their rela-tionship to "the world." An implicit ecclesiology often seems at work in the Pluralism and Polarization / 247 way people think about such concrete matters. Similarly, disagreements in ecclesiology are bound to influence one's notions of Church authority. These disagreements become manifest frequently in the comments or criticisms by religious that they find their community's authority too centralized in the person of the provincial authorities or the local superior; or that col-legial bodies such as consultations of the local house are given mere lip service by the local superior; or that decisions which can be reached by themselves individually or at the local level are reserved to higher authority. Once again, these issues seem symptomatic of the more profound ideological differences in ecclesiology which separate Catholics today. Though such disagreements seem inevitable in today's climate of plural-ism, the destructive manner of coping with them found so often need not exist. More comments will be made on this topic later in this article, but some reflections seem pertinent even at this stage. Disagreement can at times be a constructive and enriching force in human relationships, within toler-able limits and depending on how people react. Deep differences should be faced squarely in a climate of open communication, if some valid hope remains of fostering closer harmony and unity in community. To bury di-vergences o~r to treat only the symptoms or external manifestations of pluralism and the resulting polarization insures an eventual destruction of interpersonal sharings promotive of personal growth. It would be more worthwhile to plunge tactfully into the more basic levels of disagreements, which in this case touch on the very nature of the Church and of ecclesiasti-cal authority. One's assumptions, spoken and outspoken, should be brought to light in mutual respect and openness. A willingness to temper one's views, to grant honesty and good will to the other party, and to speak about issues, not personalities, seems a minimum condition in such dialogue. In this deeper context where lie the roots of more shallow differences, mere pragmatic techniques for bettering the current situation will prove in-sufficient. Though the American passion for such practical programs may obscure one's vision, religious communities must accept the need of dealing with these more profound, theoretical dimensions of these issues. If reli-gious communities are to adopt even more moderate thrusts of contemporary theologies of the Church and of ecclesiastical authority, for example, they should at least acquaint all members with a more positive view of the world beyond the Church. Leaders in each community must also embody the con-viction that authority means service, not naked power disguised under new forms; that collegial functioning flows from Christian coresponsibility as members of the community; that love, trust, and friendship must be present in any effective Church leader and perhaps even more in a leader within a religious community. This kind of new theory, if it be that in contrast to some past distorted notions, surpasses mechanical techniques of improving government and the community's stance vis-?a-vis the rest of mankind. To expect that religious superiors familiar with another approach to authority 248 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 can automatically learn and adopt this new theory and behavior seems rather unrealistic. Practice based on such theory would go a long way in alleviating some tensions which exist among those who doggedly hold to outmoded con-ceptions of the Church and of authority, and those who stridently favor newness uncritically, perhaps urging the abandonment of most structures and of practically any interpretation of authority. Once more, unless some attempt is made to deal with issues below their surface and to strive for some limited agreement in fundamentals, religious communities cannot rightfully expect polarization to lessen, let alone disappear. A Changed Worldview Beyond Greeley's empirical analysis and the implications of the ecclesi-ological factors described above, we can explore still further to the deeper roots of today's pluralism in religious communities. Catholic authors in recent years have noted a significant shift in the basic worldview whereby we do philosophy and theology these days, and whereby we approach prac-tical solutions to questions in Church life. By worldview, these authors mean the fundamental framework whereby one interprets and orders reality and thus arrives at more detailed convictions. Bernard Lonergan in dogmatic theology, Charles Curran in moral theology, John Courtney Murray in matters pertaining to religious freedom, and Avery Dulles in ecclesiology have all referred to a contemporary change from a classicist worldview to an historically conscious worldview, which they all see as having immense ramifications in their areas of concern. Greek philosophy and Christian thought represented by thinkers ranging from Augustine to Thomas Aquinas to nearly all Catholic theologians until quite recently employed an approach which emphasized man's ability to grasp the essence of reality through his reasoning faculty. This so-called "classicist worldview" left little room for change, variation, or uncertitude. Since reason can easily enough penetrate to the essence of reality, im-mutability, certitude, timelessness, and absoluteness characterized such varied matters as moral principles, images of the Church, Church laws, and inherited patterns of conduct. In moral issues, for example, this thought pattern leaves little room for variability and relativity because of cultural diversity, historical development, or concrete circumstances. A variety of universal, negative norms, "Thou shalt nots," became part and parcel of the moral theology built on this worldview. In ecclesiology, this approach favored descriptive notes which emphasized similar qualities of unchange-ableness, universality, absoluteness, and certainty. The canon law elaborated in former times also mirrored this conception of reality. Modern influences of personalism, phenomenology, and existentialism and the scientific spirit of modern times bore in on Catholic philosophers and theologians in recent decades and turned the tide against this classicist Pluralism and Polarization / 249 worldview for many an author and, seemingly, for our entire Western cul-ture. The historically conscious worldview embodied in many Catholic writ-ings today views man and his world as evolving and historical, rather than as static and unchanging. Progress, development, and growth are seen as marking man and his world, and these qualities should carry into all philosophical, theological, and practical understandings of Christian life. A stress on the human person in his subjectivity and concreteness, on this man or men, rather than simply on "man," characterizes the contemporary in-quiry. The individual's feelings and non-rational states understandably receive more attention in this approach. Since concreteness, change, and diversity are such prominent features, tentativeness and openness to excep-tion replace the past tendency to formulate a host of absolute understand-ings. Pluralism and Worldviews Results of this shift in worldviews can be seen clearly in recent debates in the field of Christian moral theology. The uniqueness and unrepeatability of the individual person and his myriad moral situations have eroded for some authors the very possibility of articulating general moral norms with an absolute force, the "Thou shalt nots" so familiar in past presentations of Catholic morality. Rather than centering their treatment of a question like divorce, contraception, or pre-marital relations on the essence of marriage and human sexuality, for instance, authors writing in this vein will tend to discuss the empirical consequences and concrete circumstances of divorce, contraception, and pre-marital relations in order to arrive at their moral reflections on the proposed conduct. Nearly all authors show some reliance these days on this historically conscious view of man, though most have combined this with some continuing reliance on man's essential structures. This eclecticism does, however, lead inevitably to a spectrum of theological opinions, instead of the one "Catholic opinion" found in moral writings in use even into the past decade. A main result of this shift in worldviews and the accompanying eclecti-cism, consequently, has been the emergence of pluralism in many areas of Catholic thinking and living. One answer no longer exists for many issues in theology, philosophy, and Church life. Catholics' opinions run the spectrum from the essentialism inherited from past approaches through all shades of combinations to the other pole, new approaches heavily conditioned by existentialism, process thought, and consequ.entialism. Many common em-phases can, of course, be discerned in contemporary writings: a stress on the human person in his freedom, dignity, and personal fulfillment; the possibility of more room for change in previously accepted theological opinions, in social customs and law, and in Church structures; a thrust toward service in the world, rather than an emphasis on the dangers of con-tamination from the world; and an understanding of the Church more in 250 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/2 terms of the persons involved than in terms of institutions. These common emphases do not, however, lead to one new theory; they lead instead to new theories, new theologies, new understandings of the Church and ecclesiastical laws, customs, and structures. In a real sense, a new theory has developed which permits and even fosters a plurality of theories, of theologies, and of understandings. Pluralism constitutes a key-note of such "new theory." Disappointment may well await those who urge and expect some new univocal theory in the sense of an all-comprehensive and wholly coherent system of goals, values, and models of appropriate behavior and assumptions for the Church at large. Such a theory seems un-likely to appear on the horizon in the foreseeable future, if at all. What seems far more plausible and realistic to expect is an acceptance of pluralism in theology, philosophy, Church structures, and social customs and laws. Worldviews and Polarization This contrast between the classicist and historically conscious worldviews has influenced greatly the polarization so evident in religious communities today. At the roots of the various groupings whose labels have become pop-ularized-- liberal vs. conservative, old vs. young, secular-minded vs. cultic --often lies this more fundamental difference in the very approach to reality which religious and other Catholics now have. Inevitably, religious working within the historically conscious worldview will be more prone to accept or even to foster change in structures, in theological understandings, in the manner of doing Christian service to the world, in the proper exercise of authority in their community, and in traditional laws and customs. Since their entire outlook on reality promotes change and development in the name of human and Christian progress, and diversity and tentativeness in all formulations, which must of necessity be time-conditioned, they will urge these qualities in all aspects of religious life. Bedause their worldview con-centrates more on the human person in his concreteness and uniqueness, they will react strongly against whatever structures, institutions, and under-standings hinder the individual's fulfillment. A deeper interpersonal sharing at a different level of friendship than found in traditional approaches to religious life will leave these religious unsatisfied with forms of life which they find impersonal, institutionalized, and shallow. De~ires for small group-living frequently result from their reaction to such weaknesses, which they discern in large religious houses. Such issues as those of optional celibacy for secular priests, the ordination to priestly ministry of women, freedom of life style for priests and religious in such matters as dress, residence, and occupation, remarriage or readmis-sion to the sacraments of the divorced, and collegial living without a local authority in the person of a superior flow more naturally from a person whose fundamental outlook remains open to newness and progress in the sense described and whose value system places great emphasis on the indi- Pluralism and Polarization / :251 vidual person's development. Often enough, the individual religious will not have clearly articulated the theoretical foundations of his basic worldview or framework for thinking and judging; he simply finds himself doing it rather consistently without much reflection. No more than for many a person operating within the classicist worldview, his basic presuppositions and unarticulated theory rarely enter formally into discussion. Unless other members of religious communities come to appreciate this basic contrast in worldviews, they will find it most difficult to understand the rationale for many present-day movements and for viewpoints like those described previously. They will greet each new issue in the community with dismay, wondering why large numbers of their own community fail to see things their way. "Where have they gone wrong?" may be their continuing puzzled query. They will not grasp that an entirely different framework, the historically conscious worldview, has its own inner logic, as compelling for its adherents as their own classicist approach. One need not, of course, actually agree with the historically conscious worldview in its main lines or certainly in its applications. Unless one has some minimal understanding ot~ its overall thrust, however, one seems doomed to confusion, so far-reaching has been its influence and acceptance. Rancor and anger leading to hardened opposition of polarized camps may eventually set in. This seems already to have occurred in numerous instances in religious communities and rela-tions have become strained or, in some cases, non-existent. The Danger of Worsening The pluralism of opinions has threatened and disturbed many religious precisely because it has unsettled the foundations of their entire worldview and the conclusions which flow from it. The wonder, at times is that more polarization fails to exist, given the chasms in viewpoints. A hankering after the former uniformity in outlook and the accompanying security may under-standably have crept into one's (onsciousness in this charged atmosphere. Condemnation of unexamined new approaches as untenable or foofish may prove the only sustainable defense for the threatened and vulnerable person trained in another way in a different era. Conversely, religious who operate within the historically conscious Worldview may retreat into an unsubstan-tiated dogmatism in reaction to this rejection which they sense in their fellow religious. The wounded feelings they experience may lead some into frustrated withdrawal, whose sequel will be loneliness and depression. In overreaction, others may lash out negatively against traditional values and customs, denying in the process the continuity with the past which will insure the future. This unhealthy and mutally destructive atmosphere will breed a polarization far removed from the ideals of Christian community. Unless some steps toward amelioration of this situation can be under-taken, the current crisis in some religious communities seems likely to con-tinue and to deepen. An already bad situation may worsen. In particular, 252 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/2 the strong, balanced, and idealistic candidates needed so badly in religious communities will not be attracted to a divided and polarized group who seem unable to live the unity their very notion implies. A deep and urgent crisis exists; yet the tone of given communities sometimes manifests business as usual in an atmosphere of unrealistic hope for a better future. Doomsday prophets are usually proved wrong and their message hardly accords with Christian hope. Yet Christian hope has always avoided the twin shoals of despair and presumption. Both undue pessimism and unwarranted optimism remain excluded. Coping With Pluralism and Polarization What suggestions can be offered for coping with pluralism and its fre-quent companion, polarization? At the outset, it would be profitable to recall that any such discussion should proceed within the prayerful recol-lection of Jesus' prayer "that they may all be one, even as you Father in me and I in you; that they may all be one in us." Religious communities' unity must fit within this larger context of the unity among men and the unity of the Church, as prayed for by Jesus. Constant prayer for faithfulness to the gospel ideal of loving union with all one's neighbors should mark every Christian. I-Iow much more so in those situations when religious experience disunity, discord, and polarization? Prayer for one another, reflection on those features which the religious share in common, and a positive desire for loving union should receive more emphasis than often seems the case. Besides these most fundamental suggestions, several more come to mind. First, it would seem helpful as a starting point to realize and expect that pluralism will be unavoidable in the years ahead in most areas of Church life and theology. Pluralism will not simply go away overnight, if at all. The fundamental differences in outlooks among Catholic moral theologians, for example, in such basic matters as the existence of absolute norms, the epistemology of theological ethics, the use of Sacred Scripture, the binding force of the Church's teachings on moral matters, the importance of esti-mating consequences and employing empirical data, all point to long-reaching splintering into various camps of moral theologians for the fore-seeable future. Logically, authors who disagree on such basic items must disagree also in matters pertaining to medical ethics, sexual ethics, social issues, or any other concrete moral question. Similarly, the different worldviews employed by religious who live under the same roof or in the same province dictate perforce some degree of continued divergence on matters pertaining to their religious lives. Keeping these facts in mind, expectation of pluralism in a realistic way may cut away some of the unnecessary emotional defenses which hinder rational analysis of the new premises and conclusions. In this unhampered atmosphere, de-fensiveness will diminish, hopefully, and reasoned consideration and genuine dialogue, in the sense of a candid exchange of views, may follow the more Pluralism and Polarization / 25