Suchergebnisse

Issue 20.4 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; JOSEPH F.~ GALLEN, s.J. Femininity and Spirituality A female insight of Gertrud von le Fort~ is the theme of this article. She writes: "L~on Bloy's words, 'The holier a woman, the more she .is a woman,' are valid also in re-verse; for the truly feminine role in every situation is i(retrievably bound to her religious character.''1 There-fore, it is likewise true that the more she is a woman, the holier she is. This principle extends also to the i:eligious state, and our topic.is that the holiness of the "sister must be built on her feminine nature and thus be distinctively feminine. Woman in the Gospel The women close to our Lord ir~ the CO, spel were femi-nine women. This is evidently true of the Blessed Virgin. She was the mother of mothers. Divine motherhood ele-vated her above all other mothers not "only in grace and sanctity but also naturally. "We often fail to re-member to what extent Mary is the most perfectly developed of all creatures, not only on the supernatural but also on the human level. Yet, it is a fact. There has been no other human being whose personality was de-veloped to such a pitch, to such a fullness of harmony and strength. In her, every power was fully cultivated and brought to the highest degree of accomplisliment. In her heart, all the delicacy of a virgin and all the ardor of a bride's love are joined to all the tenderness and gentleness of a mother. Purity, fervor, kindness, the strength to persevere, merciful understanding, the, power to forgive, a source of continual renewal and of refound enthusiasm . the heart of our Lady draws this unique treasure from her participation in the mystery of the Re-demption. In the Redemption were revealed all the potentialities' of her being. God Himself allowed this de- 1 Gertrud von le Fort, The Eternal Woman (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1954), 57. + 4- + Jose~ph F. Gallen, S.J. is pr0tessor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. VOLUME 20, 1961" 4" 4. 4.~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 238 sire for sacrifice and the gift of self, which is in the heart of every woman and mo.ther, and which was in Mary to a supreme degree, to be realized to the full.''2 M6ther-hood, physical or spiritu.al, is the full development of the female personality, and in Mary this development reached its perfection. She is not only the saint of saints; she is the woman of women and the supernatural and natural ideal of all women. A devoted band of women disciples, with feminine spontaneity and. generosity, followed our Lord from Gali-lee and ministered to Him.8 A sinful woman bathed His feet with her tears, wiped them with her hair, kissed them, and anointed them.4 Martha and Mary had the faith of the heart in our Lord: "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother would not have died.''5 The femininity of Mary, who sat in such confidence at His feet,e in no way repelled ou~ Lord: "Now J~sus loved Martha and her sister Mary, and Lazarus.''7 Women com[ort'ed our Lord on the way to Calvary,8 stood at the foot of the cross,9 and would not depart from the cross.10 When the tomb was sealed, Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joseph Could not leave it.11 They left fin.a, lly onl~ to think. of Him~and to prepare spices and ointments for His body~12 At the earliest moment after the Sabbath rest, at dawn on the third day, they returned to the tombA8 When the risen Christ appeared to them, they embraced His feet and worshipped Him.x4 Our faith is founded on the. Resurrection of our Lord. According to the Gospel story, He appeared first to Mary Magdalene; by His commigsion, this feminine ~oman became the hei'ald of the Resurred: tion to the ~pogtle~ a'nd, in the liturgy of the Church, the apostle to the apostles,x5 Woman in 'the Litu.rgy The same feminine tone is found throughout the liturgy ~and in the approved prayer of the Church. We have only to recall the titles in the Litany of Loretto: Mother most amiable, Virgin most merciful, Cause of ~ Paul-Marie de la Croix, O.C.D. ~hastity (Westminster: Newman; 1955), 145. tMt 27:55; Mk 15:.41; Lk 23:55. ~Lk 7:38. ~ Jn 11:21, 32. eLk 10:39. ~Jn 11:5. s Lk 23 : 27. OJn 19:25. ~o Mk 15= 40; Lk 23:49. ~a Mt 27 : 61 ; Mk 15 : 47; Lk 23 : 55. ~Mk 16:1; Lk 24:1. ~ Mt 28: 1; Mk 16: I-2; Lk 24: 1/ t' Mt 28:9. ~Mt 28:!0; Jn 20:17-18. our joy, Mystical rose, Health of the sick, Refuge of sinners, Comforter of the afflicted. We know that in the liturgy the Christian virgin is the bride of Christ and the bridal theme is: found frequently in Masses of the Blessed Mother and :of virgins,. In one,of the prayers from the common office of a virgin, we ask the grace to learn loving devotion to God from the virgin. In the third responsoryo of the feast of the Maternity of the Blessed Mother, we read: "Thou art made :beautiful and gentle in thy delights, O holy mother of,God,, and in the same responsory of the feast of St. Agnes:. "When I love Him, I am chaste; when I touch Him, I am pure; when I possess Him, I am :a virginY The hymn of Vespers of the feast of St. Mary Magdalene reads: "Source .and giver of heavenly light, with a glance You lit a fire o[ love in Magdalene and thawed the icy coldness of ~her heart. Wounded by love of You, she ran to anoint Your sacred feet, wash them~,with her ~tears, wipe ~hem With her hair and kiss them with her lips. She was not afraid to stand by the cross; in anguish of'soul she, stayed near Your tomb with-out any fear of the cruel soldiers, for love casts out fear. Lord Christ; love most true, cleanse us from our sins, fill our heart with grace and grant uvthereward of heaven/'16 Finally, the woman, in the office for holy women is a motherly woman. Woman in the .Doctrine ol the Church Doctrinally, the Church proclaims the distinctively feminine temperament in declaring that the mutual as-sistance or complementing of the sexes is an end of marriage. A fundamental reason for the " Church's re-strictions on coeducation is the specific feminine psy-chology. Pius XI stated in the Encyclical on Catholic education: "There is not in nature itself, which fashions the two quite different in organism, in temperament, in abilities, anything to suggest that there,can be or ought. to be intermingling, much less equality in the training of the two sexes."17 Plus XII reaffirmed the same principle: "Education proper to the sex of the young girl, and not rarely also of'the grown woman, is therefore a necessary condition of her preparation and formation for a life worthy of her.''Is Nature and Grace Sanctity, and also apostolic sanctity, can be defined as God giving me His grace and my c6rrespondence with 1BTranslation of the Reverend Joseph Connelly, H~mns'ot the Roman Liturgy (London: Longmans, Green, !~957), 214. x~ Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 22 (1930), 72. ~S Allocution to the Women Delegates oI the Christian Societies o! Italy, October 21, 1945, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 37 (1945), 293-94. + + Femininity spirituality VOLUME 20, 1961 ~9 ÷ ÷ ÷ Jowph F. Ga//en, $4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 240 that grace. In our present context, God gives the grace to a human being, but to a woman, not to an angel nor to a man. It is evidently true that grace builds on nature and on the whole nature of the individual. Grace does not destroy but elevates and helps nature. Christian spiritu-ality does not annihilate our natural tendencies but orientates them properly, directs them to their proper end, turns them to God. It follows that grace does not destroy the feminine nature, that the more fully de-veloped the feminine nature the more effective grace will ordinarily be, and that the saintly woman is not an un-sexed woman but a feminine woman dominated by grace. Bainvel says of the saints: "Grace extinguished nothing of the light of their-intelligence, did not deprive~.them of .any strength of will, nor of their tenderness of heart, norof the delicacy of their sentiments.''19 There can be an obstacle, and a serious obstacle, to the sanctity of sisters by a spiritual formation, direction, and a concept of spirituality that tend to defeminize them. An antecedent possibility of this error exists. In-stitutes of religious women are based, and some of them very directly and immediately, on those of men; men have been the founders or cofounders of many institutes of women; men write the spiritual books that sisters read; and they instruct and direct sisters. The general observa-tion of Fitzsimons can be applicable here: ". and I noted how often, both in the secular and religious sphere, in small matters as in great, women had to be content with an adaptation of something masculine.''a0 The re-ligious life has to be essentially the same for both men and women; but that of women should have a feminine soul, atmosphere, and tone. In this matter, man can be a sound observer; he can point out defects, show the gen-eral direction, but he cannot be a master. Only women can fully understand and create this feminine atmosphere. Gina Lombroso tells women: "If we suffer, it is not be-cause we are different from him but because man does not realize in what way we are different.''21 Priests are not exempt from this common male ignorance of the female temperament. We exhort them to be Christian soldiers despite the fact that their destiny is physical or spiritual motherhood and that "woman attains her fullness as a mother whenever she holds our her hands to the weak and abandoned, to those who have need of care and pro- ~j. v. Bainvel, Nature et surnaturel (Paris: Beauchesne, 1920), 160. ~" John Fitzsimons, Woman Today (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1952), vii. aa Gina Lombroso, The Soul oI Woman (New York: Dutton, 1923), 94-95. tection."~z Moralists have sound reasons for counseling brevity in hearing the confessions of women, but it can be that they and we other priests are unaware of the fact that woman often dislikes to speak of her interior and that her diffuseness can frequently be merely the'inability to express her interior. "Furthermore, the feminine in-stinct is to hide deep emotions, and as woman can divine other people's sentiments she cannot understand that man cannot divine hers but demands that she put her most sacred feelings into words.''z3 We can and often do instruct and guide women with no attention to their distinctive temperament and thereby fall at least 'partially into the error underscored by Leclercq: "Every system, every institution, every social practice, every 'legal meas-ure that ignores what is specifically feminine in woman's make-up denatures the personality of the woman under the false pretense of developing it.''~4 Differences Between Man and Woman A detailed study of this subject must begin from the basic fact, evident objectively but ignored too much in practice, of the differences between man and woman. Plus XII instructed us: "'it is true that man and woman are, with regard to their personality, of equal dignity, honor, merit, and esteem. But they do not~ compare equally in everything. Definite abilities, inclinations, and natural dispositions belong solely to the man or the woman.''2~ Alexis Carrel, whom all quote on this topic, emphasizes the same principle in greater detail: "The differences ex-isting between man and woman do not come from the particular form of the sexual organs, the presence of the uterus, from gestation, or from the mode of education. They are of a more fundamental nature. They are caused by the very structure of the tissues and by the impregna-tion of the entire organism with specific chemical sub-stances secreted by the ovary. Ignorance of these funda-mental facts has led promoters of feminism to believe that both sexes should have the same education, the same powers, and the same responsibilities. In reality, woman differs profoundly from man. Every one of the cells of her body bears the mark of her sex. The same is true of her organs and, above, all, of her nervous system. Physio-logical laws are as inexorable as those of the sidereal world. They cannot be replaced by human wishes. We ~Fitzsimons, op. cit., I00. ~Lombroso, op. cit., 89. ~'Eugene Duthoit, quoted by Jacques Leclercq, Marriage and the Fam:si lAy l(lNoecwut iYoonr kto: Pthuset eGt,i 1rl9s4 o9)!, C29a2th-9o3l.ic Action, April 24, 1945, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 35 (1943), 137. + + + Femininit~ and Spirituality VOLUME 20, 1961 241 4. + Joseph F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS are obliged to accept them just as they are. Women should develop their aptitudes in accordance with their own nature, without trying to imitate the males. Their part in the progress of civilization is higher than that of men. They should not abandon their specific functions.''26 Two other doctors, Strecker and Lathbury, are equally force-ful: "Will it never be learned that men and women can-not be reduced to a test-tube level? There are immense differences, including chemical ones and profound psy-~ chological differences which persist to the end of life.''27 These profound psychological differences evidently de-mand that the spiritual education, training, formation, direction, and government of religious women be dis-tinctively feminine. To ignore this principle is to re-tard and distort woman's spiritual growth.The sister is to develop herself, to sanctify herself, but in a dif-ferent and feminine way. "Like the man, the woman is.a human person, with all the dignity of a human being. But she is a human person in another manner than the man. She has, therefore, the same right as the man to unfold her personality, the same right to seek. after her perfection. Yet she is different, and as a consequence. her personality unfolds itself under other conditions. The rule of equality between man and woman is a rule of differentiated equality. The woman not only has an equal right with the man to the full development of her being; she has an equal right to develop herself in .a different way. To impose man's manner of life upon the woman, or to give her the same status, is to violate her right, which is to be different from him.''2s Man is Egocentric; Woman is "Alterocentric" Students of this question inform us that man is ego-centric, is centered on his own activities and pleasures, is interested in and devotes himself to things. But a very fundamental fact about woman is that she is "altero-centric"; she centers her attention, feelings, ambition, and enjoyment in other persons; she is not interested in things but in persons; her satisfaction is in other persons whom she can love and from whom she can receive love. A distinctive property of this attribute is that of great generosityl a woman has the capacity of giving and de-voting herself completely to other persons. "A woman is much more likely to become emotional about somebody: Her greater affectivity is towards persons; she is a more social person. She is interested in the living human being; ~eAlexis Carrel, Man the Unknown (New York: Halcyon House, 1938), 89-90. ~ Edward A. Strecker,. M.D., and Vincent T. Lathbury, M.D., Their Mother's Daughters (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1956), 26. ~ ts Leclercq, op. cit., 292. not in things, actions, accomplishments, theories, sta-tistics, or impersonal plans as such.'~29~:"~To be religiously alive needs precisely those qualities~with which woman is so richly endowed, the .gift of personal' relationship, instinct for vita]ovalues, and :the capacity for giving one-self completely to another, ,to The Other.''30 If this personal relation is'so~ deewin the nature of~ woman, why is it that God is not-more prominent in the spirituality of sisters? If woman is~not interested in things, why.are rule, regulatibn, custom, practice, and observance so characteristic ~of her spirituality? Why do~s she look on a thing~ the.Holy Rule, as,the ultimate norm of her conduct and not merely as a means to s6mething per-sonal, identification with Christ? Why does she consider herfoundress as a lawmaker, dot 'asa spiritual mother, a giver of spiritual life? .Why does she narrow her vision to the details of the rule of the foundress .and forget the rule as the~path to the distinctive virtues of~the fouhdress? Why does she place so much of her spirituality iri ex-ternals and not in the _Persons of the Trinity; Who dwell ~¢ithin her,° and in Jesus ,Christ? Doesn't the womanly-aatfire, of a sister, her spirituality, apostolic efficacy, and aappiness demand that we decrease the insistence on ex- :ernals and. emphasize much more the~interior life? Isn:v , theological training necessary.so,that she will have the- ;olid truth that nourishes such a li~e?~ Doesn't that same ;enerous nature require that we abandon the spirituality ff uiere morality, sin a;ad no sin, of the mere practice of ~irtue; and that we emphasize the personal truths of the firitual life, the fatherhood of God, the love ofGod° "or each one of us, the indwelling of the Trinity, the~ ~erson of Christ, the Mystical'Body, the life of grace, and he motherhood of Mary? The spirituality of the sister hould be distinctively a person-to-person relation to God. ~piritual Motherhood The great ~characteristic of wom~n is motherliness. P~us' (II affirmed.~ "Every woman is destined to be a m(~ther, notl~er in the physical s~n~e o~ 'the word, or in a rriore p.iritual and elevated but no less true sense.''31 On an- )ther occasion, he stated: "But with you We see around J~ today a gathering q~ religious ~omen, teachers and thers engaged in ihe work0f Christian education. They re. m~thers, too, not by.{aaiure nor by blood but by the ~Lucius F. Cervantes, S.J., And God" Made Man and Woman 2hicago:-Regnery, 1959), 88. ~Eva Firkel, Woman in the Modern W~'rl~l (Chicago: Fides0~1957), a~Allocution to the Women Delegates o! the Christian Societies Italy, October 21, 1945, Acta ~postolicae.$edis, $7 (19~5), 287: Femininity an~ Spirituality VoLuME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph "F~. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 244 love that they bear to the young.''32 Gertrud von le Fort expresses the same truth in womanly fashion: "Whereso-ever woman is most profoundly herself, she is not as her-self but as surrendered; and wherever she is surrendered, there she is also bride and mother. The nun dedicated to adoration, to works of mercy, to the mission field, carries the title of mother; she bears it as virgin mother.''a3 Eva Firkel asserts the same principle: "All feminine ac-tivity is shot through with protective motherly qualities, These emanate from every healthy woman, no matter whether she be married or single, whether she has children or not.''34 Here we touch the apostolic field more immediately. The sister teacher, nurse, social worker is not.a professional woman; for her these are a form and exercise of spiritual motherhood~3a If she does not under-take and perform them with the instinctive and spon-taneous devotion and.love of mother; if her relation to others in her work is not a complete motherly "other-ness," total and instinctive lack of self-interest and self-~ regard; if it is lacking in motherly generosity, tact, sensi-tivity ~to others and their 'sufferings and weaknesses, delicacy, sympathy, and compassion, she is not carrying out her apostolate according to the mind of the Church. The reason is that her.spirituality is not fused with a great endowment of her feminine nature. A mother is attractive and lovable. Even the very accurate and sharp-edged arrows against "Momism" have failed ,to lessen the truth that all the world loves a mother. It follows that the sister apostle should be attractive and lovable. As Mary, her own mother arid ideal, the sister should primarily attractoothers to God, not to herself nor for herself. The apostolic life also is a complete com-mitment and detachment; we are not in it for ourselves but only for God and souls. It is tobe remembered that' there is no imperfection in liking others and being liked by them when this is no obstacle to the greater sanctifica-tion of either, and much less if thereby we lead souls to God.' A sister can fail here. She can be unattractive in her. personality, conduct,, and manner to those for whom she is laboring, and especially to girls. The apostle sym bolizes the things of God; we cannot expect others be drawn to the things 'of God if they dislike the apostle. This apostolic loss is the primary.consideration. There is a secondary aspect but one that is Of great importanc.e. Isn't the attractive or unattractive Sister apostle a highly important, factor in the vocation problem with school ~Allocution to the Women o] Catholic Action of the Dioceses oJ Italy, ~October 21, 1941, Acta ApostolicaeSedis, 33 (1941), 457. =Von le Fort, op. cir., 7. ~Firkel, op. cir., 22. ==Von le Fort, op, cit., 87. girls and even more so with' nurses? I believe it is an incontrovertible fact that ~irls and young women will be drawn to a particular institute, generally speaking, in direct proportion to their liking for the sisters of that institute. There will be no profitand less sense in fight-ing this fact. We can state the present truth harshly but briefly: an unloved apostle very frequently at least means an unloved God; and we can add a second axiom: there is nothing in the love of God that ~should make us um loved by man. "Look at~Jesus, the :supernatural in-carnatedl Is he not,the ineffably beautiful and attractive ideal of human nature, isn't He, ag it~were, a living invitation to elevate ourselves to the supreme perfection of humanity?''s~'''Or Mary, is she not, after Jesus, the ideal of humanity,.and .should we not say, with due proportion, of her what we say of Him?''3~ If dislike, opposition, hos-tility, and enmity arise, the fault should not be in the apostle. The world hated Christ, our Lord, but the fault was not His. Woman is Made to Love and to be Loved A third characteristic of woman is that she is made to love and to be loved. Psychology and poetry emphasize this pervasive quality of the 'life of woman. "She is im-pelled by her very nature to share the joys and sorrows of others, she is made to love and to' be loved, and she can-not find her~ sufficiency in herself. That is' why a woman who is selfish in a self-centered kin~l of way is an anomal~, more distressing to encounter than a selfish man. She ha~ denied her nature f6r she :liag ceased to exist for 3thers, and in so doing she'has dried up at its source the possibility of those emotion~il experiences which ~are'vital _o her femininity.''as Man's spirituality may be founded :,n mere principle, supernatural truth, obligation, and _-luty; the spirituality of ~ womaff should be characterized ¯ y love of God. Man can work for others in an objectiye, letached, and impersonal manner; the apostolic woman nust work for others with love. Otherwise, she is Untrue o her feminine nature and is not utilizing that nature ully for God. As a woman, Janet Kalven, sums it up: 'Woman's essential mission in the world is to be for nankind a living example of the spirit of total dedication o God. To love God with her whole .heart, her whole hind, her whole strength, and to radiate that love to the ;,orldthis is the universal task ofwoman."s~ If woman's spirituality is to b'e dominated by love of ~ Bainvel, op. cir., 158. ¯ ~ Bainvel, op. cit., 159. ~s Fitzsimons, op. cir., 89. ~ ° ~Janet Kaiven, quoted b~ William B. Flaheity, S.J., The Destiny I Modern Woman (Westminster: Newman, 1950), 189-90. ÷ 4. Femininity and Spirituality VOLUME 20~ 1961 Joseph F. Gallen, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 246 God, if through her "otherness," generosity, motherliness, and loving nature, she. is more capable than man of un-selfish and disinterested love of 'God, why should the mental prayer of a sister be an abstract discursive prayer, not affective prayer? a prayer of the mind and not of the affections? a mere abstract study of virtue and examina tion of conscience? Why shouldn't her feminine nature, which dislikes the abstract and is endowed with a livelie imagination, her logic, which is more of the heart than o reason, lead her naturallyr to affective .prayer? If he thought and speech are infused and even permeate with emotion in ordinary life, why should they be coldl intellectual and lifeless with God? "Even at the highes levels of the spiritual life this distinction is clear. In th writings of St. John of the Cross and of St. Teresa of Avil one can sense the two approaches: St. John in his writing remains always ~he philosopher, having made a complet gift.of himself in the abyss of faith, whereas St. Teres loves God tenderly and has made her love of Him as he heavenly spouse into a second nature.''40 Why shoul the sister's examination of conscience be a mere countin of defects and reading of an act of contrition? Why ar rule and observance so marked a note of her spirituality not consecration to God and .generosity? How many re ligious women undeista_nd that there is nothing purel negative in the spiritual life, that abnegation, self-denial mortification, and purification are only means to some thing positive, to the love of God? "For in Christianit there is no place for a love of death; death occurs to liv more fully. From the spiritual point of view, asceticis is not unlike what the. wrong.side~ of. a material is to it right side. There is no right-side without a wrong side but the wrong side is inseparable from the right sid and only subsists through it."~, ~ It has been aptly ren~arked that all schools of spiritu ality are distinguished by the emphasis they place on th love of God or on mortification and detachment as lea i.ng to~ the love of God. In the former, the love of Go draws the soul away from affections that would imped this love; in the latter schools, the. affections are turne away from other things to attain and increase the love o God. Both approaches should be used throughout lif but it seems to me that the affective nature of woma should more frequently incline to and follow the fir approach. Mortification and detachment are an essenti part of both systems.In the first, the love of God dra the soul to mortification and detachment; in the secbn ~ Fitzsimons, op. cir., 115. "tFran~ois de Saint-Marie, O.C.D., Chastity (Westminster: Ne man, 1955), 239. mortification and detachment are the means of attaining and perfecting love of God. Woman is Emotional Doctors Strecker and Lathhury mfiintain: "L'ife ~is lived largely not by the intellect but by maturely motivated emotions.''42 Emotion can not only be immature; it can also be wholly unreasonable, even though the first law of a human being is~to be guided by reason. This ir-rational characteris'tic is particularly true of fear in woman, and there is a danger that the spiritual life of the religious woman will be tyrannized and weakened by countless unreasonable and persistent fears. She can fail to distinguish between a fearful thought and a fear that has foundation, can allow the mere presence or recur-rence of a fearful thought to endow it automatically with objective validity, omit all reflection on whether the fear-ful thought 1.s supported by any tea_son ,n fact, pray for release from fear but fail to advert to the obvious fact that God cannot ordinarily be expected to do for us what we can do for ourselves. God not only gives us grace; He has also given us a mind that can ascertain whether a tear is unreasonable and~ a will that enables us to ignore the unreasonable fear. When it exists, this paralysis of fear proves that woman has not built her spirituality on her feminine nature. Love drives out or attenuates fear, and the spiritual life of a woman should be preeminently love of God. An incomplete and misguided spiritual forma-tion is a serious cqntributory factor to the habit of fear. Fear will readily and forcefully fill up the vacuum of an interior life in the externalist and devotionalist. The emotional nature of woman tends also to senti-mentality and to a shallow and superficial spirituality~ This is the cause of the widespread externalism and de-votionalism, of the endless non-liturgic~il vocal prayer, the prevalence of "novena" spirituality, 'the scurrying ~bout for additional Masses, and the sufficiently excessive ,ddiction to articles of devotion. An interior soul is one a, hose growing love of God, living of the participation of .he divine nature, divine adoption, and of the indwelling )f the Trinity have led to identification with Christ in hought, will, desire, and affection. Such a soul has little :apacity and less desire for devotionalism. Devotionalism s a symptom and proof of the lack of a true interior life. Fhe cure is a~ solid education at the beginning of the eligious life, a solid spiritual formation, and theological raining. An emotional nature is also impressionable, unstable, ,ariable. A formation and direction that are aware of "~ Strecker-Lathbury. op. cir., 1 I. 4- 4- ÷ Femininity and Spirituality VOLIJME ~0~ 1961. ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, ~gVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS 248 these facts will strive to give the sister the strength and constancy of will that are more proper to man. A solid education at the beginning of the .religious life will again be a most effective auxiliary. Woman is Compassionate The next characteristic of woman is her love of the afflicted. She loves the weak, the sick, the suffering, the wretched, the oppressed, the disgraced, the victims of ill fortune; and her love does not distinguish between the worthy and unworthy. In the thought of Gina Lombroso, to woman whatever causes suffering and is avoidable is unjust, whatever causes happiness is just,4a Gertrud von le Fort concurs: "As the motherly woman feeds the hungry, so also does she console the afflicted. The weak and the guilty, the neglected and the persecuted, even the justly punished, all those whom a judicial world no longer wishes to support and protect, find their ultimate rights vindicated in the consolation and the compassion that the maternal woman gives.''44 Eva Firkel repeats the same thought: "A mother knows how helpless creature., can be; she will support, give and care, without troubling too much whether the objects of her love are worthy of it She will not constantly rub up against the defects ot others, but hide and mitigate them. One might also say it the other way round: wherever there is need for help motherly women will be found.''4~ Certainly an intui tively compassionate religious woman is a most attractiv~ apostle of the good news of God. She is a born shepherd of souls, the natural comforter of the least of Christ'., brethren. Nature has endowed her with a fundamenta! trait of the apostle of Christ, to comfort the suffering and her intuition leads her to seek them out and discerr them instinctively. There should be no limit to the degre~ of learning that sisters are to seek and attain; but, if the] are to be true to their womanly nature and to use it f01 God and God's Church, the apostolate of their institute. should always be characterized by works for the poor, tht working class, the lowly, the unfortunate, the handi capped, suffering, and despised. The gift of compassior should also tend to facility in affective mental prayer. Woman Wishes to be Appreciated for Herself Fitzsimons states: ". men are more concerned to shin, and be noticed for their achievements, for the things the. have made, the result of their creative effort, wherea women wish to be appreciated for themselves, for thei a Lombroso, op. cit., 256. "Von le Fort, op. cir., 80. ~ Firkelo op. cit., 148. own personality.''46 Woman also needs support and di-rection and she is highly, even fiercely, individual. "Al-though one often hears the contrary and in spite of the fact that there is more apparent monotony in women's lives than in men's, woman is.much more individual than man.''4r We certainly should not satisfy mere vanity, childishness, nor make the sister an immature weakling, However, the attributes described above evidently de-mand a greater care in the formation and government of a sister as an individual, a greater attention to persons rather than things in government, and a manner of government that tends more to recognition, enc0iarage-ment, and praise than to criticism and correction. Gertrud yon le Fort says of the maternal woman and thus of the maternal superior: "It belongs to the ominous errors'of the world, to the fundamental reason of its lack of peace, to believe that it must always uncover and condemn all that is wrong. Every wise and kindly mother knows that sometimes it is right to do exactly the opposite.''4s Correction is necessary, and too many superiors of both men and women neglect this obligation; 'but I am con-vinced .that very many superiors of sisters are too quick in their corrections and entirely too prone~ to correct publicly. A delay will usually render the correction calmer and more effective, and relatively very few defects de, mand a public correction. No superior has to correct im-mediately and publicly every defect that she observes in the refectory or community room. A sister should always be conscious that she is an .in-dividual in the mind of the superior and of the com-munity. A male religious can be left in great part to himself and his work; one of the most fervent desires of many religious men is to be left alone. This is not true of women. A greater recognition and esteem of the religious as an individual person is one of the ,purposes of renova-tion and adaptation. The spirituality of the sister is to be built on her individualized feminine nature. All spir-itual authorities warn that it is dangerous ,to try to di-rect all souls by exactly the same path. Woman as. a per-son is highly individual, but woman in authority is more prone than man to regimentation. God mad~ us inde-structibly as individuals; let us build on His handiwork, not attempt to destroy it. Woman has a Capability [or Details All students of woman proclaim her great capability for details. Nature has endowed her with this talent to ,e Fitzsimons, op. cir., 92. '~ Lombroso, op. cir., 86. ~ Von le Fort, op; cir., 81. + + + Femininity and Spirituality VOLUME 20, 1961 249 4" 4" 4" Joseph F. Gailen~ S,]~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 250 enable her to take care of a family and home. All also affirm that woman gets lost in details, that she dislikes the abstract and cannot analyze and reduce details to their principles; she occupies herself with the details and does not perceive the essential, and consequently .has difficulty in orienting her life~ The preoccupation with details tends also to a narrowness of outlook and a lack of breadth in ideas. "The foundress of a congregation said one day: 'Sisters often attribute the greatest importance things that are silly and no importance to things that truly great.'-49 The talent for details is undoubtedly asset to the sister in her apostolate, especially in works such as those of hospitals and institutions. However, is~also the cause of the excessive details in the religious. life of women, the hundreds of customs, observances, and practices, the spiritual dusting, the ascetical fussing, religious "redding up." Here woman is to be comple-mented by man~s logiC. Those observances are to be re-tained and chosen that are most efficacious in producing interior virtue, especially the virtues more necessary the religious life; and such observances are not to be un-reasonable either in number or detail. Woman's proneness to imitation multiplies these details. The individual sister takes them unthinkingly from other sisters, and one stitute copies them from another. Once they are accepted, the natural conservatism of woman opposes and resents any change. Esther E. Brooke rightly admires the ef-ficiency of woman: "Woman is the only creature on earth able to multiply nothing by nothing and get something out of it. She is inherently a bookkeeper with an ac-countant's delight in the profit column and a determined broom oto sweep away the loss.''50 It is at least impolite to spoil a well.turned sentence, but woman is also the on!y creature on earth who can multiply something something and get nothing out of it. The multiplication of details is an unproductive approach to an interior life. The bookkeeper may be good at figures but this does not necessarily nor ordinarily imply the ability to enrich Allied to her talent for detail~ is the tendency of woman to be busy for the sake of being busy. Simone de Beauvoir aptly observes: "The worst of it all is that this labor does not even tend toward the creation of anything durable. Woman is tempted--and the more so the greater pains she takes--to regard her work as an end in itself. She sighs as she contemplates the perfect cake just out the oven: 'It's a shame to eat itl' It is really too bad ~A. Ehl, Direction spirituelle des religieuses (Brussels: L'edition universelle, 1948), 79. ~Esther E. Brooke in The Spiritual Woman, Trustee of the Future edited by Marion T. Sheehan (New York: Harper, 1955), 17. have husband and children tramping with their muddy feet all over her waxed hardwood floorslTM This ten-dency seems to explain the over-emphasis on domestic work in convents, the chronic fever of housecleaning, and the innumerable woman hours~wasted in polishing0and re-polishing floors and furniture. It is also the reason why sisters cannot perceive-the contradiction-of a religious habit that demands a disproportionate amount of time to launder and of the~excessive emplbyment of novices and postulants in domestic work. ' ~ A similar defect is the literalness-of,religious women. They interpret a minor observance as rigidly and ab-solutely as if it were the prohibition of hating, God; it admits of no excuse or exception. In h~r meditation, the sister.may observe every step of a'method~of prayer but be unmoved by the fact~ that she is not praying: All her life she may mechanically recite twice a day the'acts ~f thanksgiving.and contrition in' the examen book but never think of giving thanks to'God, of being sorry for her sins, imperfections, and r6jections,. 0f grace-bbcause of motives that appeal to her individually. She may. be fiercely individual but she is~also a passionate routinist. The same concentration onlittle things'can b~ true.~of the apostolate. Our own spirituality conditions our ap-proach to the apostolate; if our spirituality is dominated by trifles, we shall preach and insist on ~trifles: in the apostolate. The life of the religious apostle is ~obviously to be dominated by. God, Who is infinite, and 'the,eternal value,-of a human soul,-not by ,trifles. Woman has ~ids in overcoming this addiction to detail. She .is more objective than man, she sees reality more clearly,~and she .is mor~ practical. If something does not work, she g~ves itup, even though she does not see the reason why it does not work. It is amplifying the obvious to state~that~a re-ligious life or an ,apostolate dominated by. detail does not work. It is a proper e~phasis,of important and prac-tical truth to add that a petty life,will not be. a happy life. Woman ~s Spi'ritUal ~nd her ~nlSuence~ is~ SpjrituaJ Marion T. Sheehan writes: "Man in his leadership oi society has a basic protectiveness and a supportive attitude toward life. His special prerogatives are.strength and ag-gressiveness. Woman has a sense of trusteeship of life in both the spiritual and physical meaning. The spiritual qualities in woman--her reserv~e, refinement, and com-passion- complement man's characteristics by modera-tion. The source of these complementary qua, lities is in her spiritu~al life. For centuries, man has publicly ackn.0wl- *~ Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex (New York: KnopL 1955), 454. + 4. 4. Femininity and, spirituality voLUME 20," ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallon, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 252 edged this spiritual influence of woman by his expressions in art, poetry, and literature.''52 Woman is therefore more spiritual than man and her influence is spiritual. She should consequently be more prominent than man in her contribution to the note of sanctity in the" Church. W~e can readily admit that we have enough good re-ligious women; we may question whether we have a sufficient number of outstanding holiness. Learning and other gifts can be helpful, but only sanctity is true great-ness in the Mystical Body of Christ. Several authors state that woman geniuses are almost non-existent in history. Women are not found among the great theologians, phi-losophe~ s, writers, poets, composers, sculptors, painters, or scientists. Acompletely satisfactory .answer has yet to be found for this fact. No one merits the title of great and genius more than the saint. He has the talents of mind, will, and heart that conquer the measureless distance be-tween heaven and earth. He possesses the daring and originality to leap over reason into divine love. Can it be that the spiritual nature of woman is retarded because she is also too pedestrian? too restricted in her vision to the average,, the ordinary, the routine, the good? lacking in the vision and constancy demanded for greatness? Woman is likewise naturally more cultured and her in-fluence is more cultural than that of man. The Church may also ar.d justifiably look to religious women for a notable cultural influence. This is a wide field, and the cultural influence of the sister has been admittedly handi-capped by the lack of a proper education at the beginning of her religious life. To arouse sisters to reflection on this important matter, ,we .can be content with inquiring whether the statues in convents generally manifest the taste of a cultured person and whether the articles of de-votion made and used by sisters reveal the same taste. Must the inexpensive be tawdry and loud? Aren't Catholic repugnance and Protestant prejudice readily created and confirmed by some of the~se articles of devotion? "While he is still a child, woman.leads man to an understanding of art, to the integrity and power that goes into its crea-tion. She shows him that beauty is not only pleasing to the eye, but that through the eye it reaches every corner of the human soul. We may well ask ourselves.where we have failed in this sacred trust. Would so many of our churches be filled with the horrors they contain, the painted mon-strosities called statues which distract instead of embel-lish, which sicken instead of elevate, if the mothers of our priests and ministers had made the art gallery, the mu-seum, the concert hall as intimately part of their chil-~ Sheehan, op. cir., 155256. dren,s early training as the movies, the radio, the corn, ics?"53 Woman ancl Other Women One of the outstanding defects o~ woman, emphasized by practically all students of the subject, is the difficulty she has.in getting along with other women and'in friend-ship with other Women. Gina Lombroso again enlightens us: "Individually the.mani~ to be first prevents .the ~form-ing of real friendship among women, and hinders the'es-tablishment of that current of expansion and confidence among young girls and bider'women 6~hich would b~ of so much use and comfort in life: Woman does not-trust woman, because each one wants to be first and knowg that her best friend is ready to march'over her in-ordei" to be first, when her turn. comes.TM "Wom~n's inordinate self-confidence is, I believe, the Cause of w6men's lack of'con-fidence ir~ each other, as it is the reason for their failure to respect each other. :. This distiust is~the cause of the cordial animosity that reigns between women, and of the discredit which any woman in particular thr6ws,on-all~ women in general."5~ Woman is also more sociable than man, a more dependent', being; and more dependent on her environ~ment.These facts make common'life at once a necessity and a difficulty. ~The remedy is instruction and formation from the beginning of the religious life; to point out the difficulty to the young, to instruct them that their gifts of unselfishness, spofitaneous generosity, intui: rive perception of the difficulties~of others, iSf seeking the happiness of others are to be~ turned and devoted pri-marily to their own sisters. A happy community life is far more indispensable to a religious woman than to-a re-ligious man. It must have the climate that her nature de-mands and give her affection, satisfactory personal rela-tionships, sympathy, underst.anding, recognition, support, and help. The more she is a woman, the holier she is; but the more she walks alone, the less she is a woman. The current of resistance from woman to woman is also a basic reason for the relative unwillihgness and. slowness of sis-ters to talk about spiritual matters with their superiors. Spiritual direction presupposes mutual trust, and a su-perior of sisters will not attract confidences unless she~has given an almost bverwhelming and sustained proof of her spirituality, unselfishness, and trustworthiness. This mat-ter '6f~woman to woman also has deep apostolic implica-tions. In Christian education according to the mind of the Church, sisters are destined at least primarily as educators r~ Eloise $paeth" in $heehan, op. cir., 5. ~ Lombroso, op. cir., 57. ~ Lombroso, op. cir., $2-33. ÷ ÷ Femininity and , spirituality VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS £54 of girls.A liking for our work and for those for whom we work is an important factor for success, and we do not in-fluence too many people that we dislike or who dislike us. Woraa.n. and Chastity ChastitLis a r~6c~e.~sity for the state of complete Christian per~fection:, It is also highly necessary for the apostolate of the nun. She is destined to be the spiritual mother of re. any "souls. In-.woman, chastity is a most extensive re-nunclauon. She re.nounces not only physical love but also the love of a husband and children. Because of her na-ture, these last two renunciations are~much deeper in woman than in man. They are the sacrifice of an affective life that is almost her very n.ature, almost herself. This re-nunciation must be complete anti absolute; she sacrifices forever.any affecti~)n that would impede the greater love of God and not merely the affection that would lead her into sin. The postulant, novice, and junior professed are to be pr~operly instructed on chastity. This is necessary from a physical and moral standpoint; .it is evoen more necessary from the spiritual aspect. Our consecration to God is, not to be blur~'d, confused, and diminished by artificial a_.n~puritanica! ignorance. The vow,, of_chastity is not merely to give up~marri.age; it is to give UP marriage, which is good and holy, for a greater_ good, .~the love of God_ and the virgi~nal love of s.o.uls.I.n his Encyclical o.n~ sacred, virgi.nity, Pius XII re-itera_ t~ed the traditional teaching of the Church the mo-t. ivg .t, hat leads a girl to the,religious life is love of God; her purpose is. to attain a, greater love of God in her own soul; and this greater and pure love is the source of her apostol~c.leal. Chastity is. not mere~ renuncia, tion, mere sacrifice; it is not mere.ly a moralistic and defensive virtue, not a mere exercise of vigilance. C.ha~s(ity is all of these things and demands all of them. Here~passion is strong and affections wayward and blind. Common-sense dic-tates constant vigilan.ce. The difficulty is that- chastity has been too much merely a negative and defensive virtue, the avoidance of sin and fidelity to the .precautions against sin. This is not in .agreement with the Pope's description~ that the motive of religious chastity is the love of God and its purpose the attainment of a greater love of God. Chastity must be made much more positive. Its purpose is union with G6d and a constantly increasing love oo~ God. This lov~ i~ spiritual. It is not in the same order as human lov.e, much less is ,it a disguised sexual love. The attainment of such a union demands that the spirituality of a sister be centered far more on the Person of Christ than in rule, ._regulation, and observance; that her mental prayer be centered on Him, not merely on abstract prin- ciplesl and that: it be distinctly affective. She. is to: e~.tehd this same approach to all other religious~exercises~ e.g,, .the examen, liturgical and other vocal prayer, and ~spir.itual reading. The close and intimate doctrines of our faith, such as the Mystical Body, the indwelling of the~Trg~nity, and the life of grace are to be made prominent in her life. She is to be drawn away from a concentration on the [earsome doctrines and is to base herspirituality primar, ily on the goodness and attractiveness of God, Whether or not a sister is attainihg the purpose o.[ ~haStiiy will be proved not by a mere absence of sin but by the Correlative virtues and signs that manifest an increased love of God. Is her prayer and life more familiar, closer to God? Is she less materialistic, less inclined to sensual indulgence, more mortified, more detached, of a more delicate conscience, nstinctively but not ~scrupulously apprehending sin and anything that could lessen her love of God? Is she a more ,piritually agreeable person? Although love of God is not ~n the same level as human love, by fidelity it becomes 3rogressively closer, more intimate, more real. It is the rue love of religious chastity only if it becomes increas-ngly less selfish, if its tendency is to give to God, not to ¯ eceive. This positive chastity produces the really apostolic woman, the sincere spiritual mother of mankind. A sister, )y the perception of the heart more than of the mind, will aave attained a knowledge and participation of God's ore for man; she will long to give to God and this she an do only by bringing herself and souls to a knowledge tnd love of Him; her peace and joy in the possession of god within her own soul will lead. her to the love of God n others who possess Him and to bring this possession to hose who are deprived of it; true love of God will urge ~er constantly to give to God; and her apostolate will hereby be maternal, because it will be distinguished by mselfishness, generosity, dedication, universality, and ~urity of intention. "Noble-mimled women, those in chom the spirit preponderates, succeed somehow in spir-tualizing the physical and in developing within them-elves an intensity and purity of spfritual love which pro-uces types of mystics, wives, and mothers who are the dmiration of: mankind."~ ?oncIusion Personal and apostolic sanctity are one. Our theme has een that the sanctity of the sister must be developed on er feminine nature and that sanctity implies no maim-ag or distortion of this nature bu.t its perfect develop- ~ent. Father Valentine, by a concentration on his main ~ Leclercq, op. cit., 296-97. Femininity and Spirituality VOLUME 201 1961 thought, may be underestimating learning and efficiency, but his words sum up and can aptly close this article: "One of the greatest needs in the apostolate is the woman. It matters little comparatively speaking whether she is learned or even efficient: but she must be a woman, as ma-ture, unpretentious, work-a-day, self-forgetful as the mother of many children, if she is to be worthy of the privilege of caring for souls in Christ's name.''57 m Ferdinand Valentine, O. P., The Apostolate o! Chasity (~ est-minster: Newman, 1954), 45. 4. ÷ 4. ANASTASIO GUTIERREZ, C.M.F. Teaching Brothers in the Church What I propose to say about the subject on which I was asked to speak by the presiding body1 can be summed up in the simple words: lay, teaching, religious. Anyone's rights and duties toward the Church constitute his juri-dical statug. The juridical pers¢.nality of these brothers can be no better defined than by the terms: religious, laymen, apostles. Religious The lay teaching brother is above all a religious. His rights and his'duties and at the same time his dignity flow especially from this character. First of all, there is no opposition between layman in its canonical sense and religious. Canon 107 teaches that there are in the Church by divine institution clerics and lay-men, and that both may be religious. This is why canon 488, 7°, defines the religious as one who has pronounced vows in a religious institute; and religious institutes~ may be, according to 4° of the canon, clerical or lay. Strictly, the religious state is no other than the means, perfect in itself, of professing socially and juridically the integral morality of Christ, His precepts and counsels, that is, evangelical perfection, the Gospel in its full integrity. It is obvious that this high duty of tending toward perfec-tion cannot be exclusively reserved for clerics, but that it must as well remain open to laymen. The religious state both considers itself as existing outside of the priesthood and actually does exist outside of the priesthood. In this connection it is proper to note that the .organization of the state of perfection arose in the Church as a lay state and that clerical religious congregations are not to be found before the latter part of the Middle Ages. Even the x This article is a translation of a talk given at the Second Congress of Major Superiors of Religious Orders and Congregations, October 29, 1957. Anastasio Guti~rrez, C.M.F., is a consultor of the Sacred Congrega-tion of the Council and an official of the Sacred Congregation of Relig-gious. vOLUME 20, 1961 257 ÷ ÷ ÷ A. Gugffrreg, C,.M.F. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 mendicant orders, not to speak of the Benedictines, did not at first imply the priesthood. St. Francis of Assisi him-self never received the priesthood. Not only is there no opposition between the lay state and the religious state, but one may with good reason add that the elements proper to the religious state are found to be distinguished and delineated more clearly among lay religious, because if these elements are common to both lay and clerical religious, they are then more pure unmixed among lay religious. As a matter of fact, priesthood imposes numerous obligations of its own which coincide, at least partially, with those of the religious state: celibacy, canonical obedience, apostolic obligations, abstention from secular affairs that are formally for profit. The same thing may be said of its rights: the person of priest is sacred, protected by the privilege of canon 119; he enjoys as his full right the privileges of the clergy; is owed special honor aside from whether or not he pro-fesses the religious state. Religious priests share these rights and these obligations independently of their religious character. Actually, with respect to his rights, the lay religious a person worthy of honor in the Church, for, "the religious state., is to be held in honor by all" (c. 487); and this respect is due to religious as well as to clerics (c. 614). The person of the lay religious is sacred because of the public consecration of his life and person exclusively to the service. Even if his profession acts in many ways contract between the religious and his congregation, it cannot be reduced to the category of business contracts, private, voluntary relationships binding in commutative justice. Profession, theologically and also juridically is seen from its effects) is the consecration of a person and a human life to the exclusive service of God and to practice of the integral moral code of Jesus: ". besides the common precepts, the evangelical counsels are also be kept" (all of them, none excepted) ',by the vows obedience, chastity and poverty." (c. 487). Of course, the individual makes this consecration; but it is ratified by the Church. Such a profession is the religious' holo-caust, but a holocaust which the Church accepts officially and which she offers in turn to God in her own name. The profound and consoling meaning of the public nature the vows is in this, that public vows are vows accepted the Church. The immediate juridical effect of this public and official consecration, this public holocaust, is the sacredness of the person. The consequence of this character of sacredness is immunity, in virtue of which the violation of such a by exterior sin against chastity or by a real injury -119) constitutes a sacrilege. Moreover, this': sacrilege im-plies, on the part of the subject, a new sin against the virtue of religion; and for the other party, in the case of a real injury, brings with it excommunication (c. 2343, § 4). Under another aspect .the dignity of lay brotherd, pri-marily because they are religious, demands consideration by reason of the public nature of their state, in. the exact and strict sense of public. In the Church the religious state is a public state because religious constitute the sec-ond category of canonical persons (cc., 107, 487). Iri other words, by her public and organic constitution, the Church today is constitutionally composed of clerics, laymen, and religious (c. 107). All the faithful belong necessarily to one or other of these specifically distinct categories. It ought also to be noted here that the public character of the religious state does not come from the priesthood which is often joined to religious profession. It comes from the religious character, itself, in so far as there is question of a social and constitutionally organized profession of the evangelical counsels. That is why the:religious 'state even among laymen is a public state. What is called the "domi-native power" of superiors is supernatural, canonical (c. 101, § 1) and public. Also, this power is exercised in the same way as jurisdiction, according to a,declaration of the interpretative Commission of the Code and, recently, of the, Oriental Code of Canon Law. Religious superi6rs are ecclesiastical superiors (c. 1308, § 1; coll. 572, § 1, 6c) in those affairs which concern the state of perfection as such, and for many which relate merel~ to the simple Christian life of the religious. Among the rights and privileges of lay religious;finally, may be counted those of clerics themselves.The Church does not wish to treat religious differently frbm clerics, so in many respects: she puts'the consecration" conferred by religious profession and the consecration-of Holy Orders upon an equal ~footing. Moreover, this similarity~, of treat-ment is only right. Finally, let us consider only the duties of the lay re-ligious: To the obligations, of all the faithful ("besides those precepts common to all") and to those which are proper to all religious ("ev~angelical counsels, canonical religious discipline"), lay religious add the obligations common to clerics, according to the tenor of canon 592. This completes, in its fundamental outlines, the jurid-ical picture of the lay brother as a religious. Layman . . Let us now examine themeaning of the word layman. When we apply this designation both "to a.religious and to a person in the world," it is clear that we are using the + + + Teach~ng Brothers in the Church VOLUME 20, 1961 4. 4. 4. A. Guti~,rre~, C.M.F. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 word in equivocal senses with very great difference in con-tent. It is terminology which certain authors, perhaps, are justified in criticizing. Applied to people in the worl'd the term layman in-cludes, canonically, a two-fold meaning, one negative and one positive. Negatively and in the unrestricted sense lay-men are those who are neither clerics nor religious. In a more restricted, but still canonical sense, they are those who are not clerics. This real but negative aspect is per-haps the one which first strikes anyone considering the or-ganic ~nd,constitutional structure of the Church. The lay-man as such can exercise no power, either of orders or of jurisdiction, these being ireserved to clerics, as stated in canon 118. With respect to the power of orders~ he cannot celebrate Mass~ consecrate or offer the sacrifice ',ex off~cio" (c. 802), nor perform any acts of public worship' (c. ,1256); he cannot administer the sacrament of penance (c. 871), nor confirmation (c. 951), nor" extreme unction (c, 938), nor in general the other sacraments (c. 1146). With respect to jurisdiction, the layman can have no share in it, neither in its teaching authority, nor in any of its governing au-thority, whether legislative, judicial, penal, or .executive, so long as these functions are free and discretionary. As a consequence, he is incapable of having an ecclesiastical office in the strict sense of the term (c. 145). This is the negative side of being a layman in the Church, a real as-pect which is fully applicable to the lay religious in'the more restricted sense of the word layman. This negative idea, which has prevailed down to our time, is incomplete, Postitively, the layman is characterized by a public juridical condition resulting from his own set of canonical rights and duties. But as a matter of fact this juridical con-dition is of little relevance here since in so far as rights and duties arise from this condition, they suppose a life in the world, which is the negation or the absence of the religious character. Neither are the relations between lay-men in the world and religious of interest here, nor matri-monial rights and family relationships, the rights of lay-men in a canonical process ,and in the admisistration of ecclesiastical non-religious goods, the whole section in the code "On Lay.Persons'~ (Book II, Part $), and right of lay association and so on. Here rather there arises spontaneously the idea of the constitutional character of the religious state in canon law. As baptism transforms man from citizen to Christian; and sacred orders, the Christian into the cleric; so profession transforms a member of the faithful into a religious. In, spite of its superiority, the religious state maintains itsi canonical,genus as a lay state. But the specific elementi religious, profoundly affects this generic element, as the species man is profoundly set off from the genus animal. Nevertheless, the following points, common to laymen in religion and laymen in the world, merit a particular emphasis. In relations with the hierarchy, "laymen have the right of receiving spiritual goods from a cleric accord-ing to the discipline of the Ctiurch, especially ~hos~ helps which are necessary for salvation" (c. 682).These are in particular apostolic preaching, divine worship, and the sacraments. Laymen can participate in the exercise of functions in the area of liturgy and ritual, such as active participation in the Eucharistic Sacrifice, serving Mass, acting as sacristan, choir member, organist; sexton, and so on important responsibilities which women ought not to exercise and upon which depend, in great measure, the full dignity of di~cine worship. They can also'participate in the domain of the apostolate. Here we approach the area of the third point of our triplet:' brothers, laymen, teachers; that is, religious as apogtles. Apostle The vocation of teaching lay religious is a canor~ical vo-cation that is essentially apostolic. Teaching constitutes their specific end, and it is clear that a specific end cannot be separated logically, psychologically, or juridically from the generic end. This is why it is that as their state of perfection, the re-ligious state, is public, so also their apostolic activity is not simply private activity which is praised and com-mended as private by the Church. It is certainly an apos-tolate that is in some sense official in the Church. Teach-ing religious have as it were a mission or a mandate of the Church, even of the Holy See if they are of pontifical status. The Roman Pontiff, writing to the Cardinal Prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Religious on March 31, 1954, about lay teaching religious expressed himself in this way: "Let them form in Christian virtue the students given into their care as the office entrusted to them by the .Church certainly demands." Evidently the apostolate of those who teach is reducible to the authority of the magisterium of the Church. The Roman Pontiff affirmed this in a recent address to the Second World Congress of the Lay Apostolate (October 5, 1957) in defining the nature of this apostolate and of the mandate of the Church. "In the present case there is no question of the power of orders, but of that of teaching. The depositaries of this power are only those who possess ecclesiastical authority. Others, priests or laymen, collabo-rate with them in proportion as this power has been con-fided to them for the faithful teaching and directing of the ~aithful (cf. cc. 1327, 1328). Priests and also laymen can receive such a mandate, which may be, according to the situation, the same for one as for the other. Nevertheless ÷ ÷ ÷ Teaching Brothers in the Church VOLUME 20, 19~1 261 4- A. Guti~rre~', REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 such mandates are distinguished by the fact that one group is of priests, the other of laymen. As a consequence, the apostolate of the first group is priestly, and that of the second is a lay apostolate" (Civilt~ Cattolica~ 1957, p. 183, n. 9). And again:, "We are explaining here the concept: of the lay apostolate in its strict sense, according ,to what we have :explained above about the hierarchical apostolate. It consists, then, in this fact, that laymen assume tasks which flow from the mission confided by Christ to his Church. We have seen that this apostolate remains always an apostolate of laymen and that it never becomes a 'hier-archical apostolate,' even when it is exercised by a man-date of the hierarchy" (ibid. p. 186, n. 22); This directly includes laymen living in the world, not clerics or reli-gious; but it may be understood of teaching religious. The Pope speaks clearly of a mandate, but the qualified sense which he gives to this concept is clear,,even for the designa-tion of a task that is very noble. This.power. to teach, received by a mandate from the hierarchy, is rooted in the authority of the magisterium. It is not strictly jurisdiction, and :consequently laymen do not become clerics by virtue of participating in ecclesiasti-cal power, because they. are incapable of jurisdiction (c. 118) as the Sovereign Pontiff has eneregetically affirmed. This is why the teaching office of laymen is not authorita-tive and cannot of itself oblige one either to intellectual submission or to moral practice, except in so far as this office faithfully reproduces the authentic rriagisterium of the hierarchy. Moreover, the Roman Pontiff adds: "As far as the value and efficacy of the apostolate that has been developed,by teaching religious is Eoncerned, it depends on the capacity of each one and his own supernatural gifts. The words of our Lord may well be applied to lay teachers, to religious, and to all those whom the Church has charged with;, the teaching-of the.truths of the faith: 'You are the salt of the earth, you are the light of the world' (Mt 5:13~14)" (ibid. p. 183, n. 9). In conclusion, the .mandate to teach religion confers upon the layman, an ecclesiastical power, but this power is not that of jurisdiction. Rather it must be said that it is a purely executive power, not a discretionary one~ a "mere mission to.execute" which laymen are capable of having: Since it is socially and publicly organized, this aposto~ late, even though it is simply executive, cannot escape be-ing one of the Church's broad commitments; for she is to a great extent responsible to the world for the accomplish-ment of' her mandate. So it is that .teaching laymen have a great responsibility. It is necessary to add that besides the efficacy of their mandate, religious have an intrinsic union with the Church and her interest, a perpetual, necessary, and in-tegral union, They are fully united to her in virtue of their state of life, even in virtue of religion or of the vow of obedience (c. 499; § 1). This is why the religious apostolate, apart from its public organization, is in itself superior by its nature to Catholic Action. Catholic Action groups turn over their cooperation and their activity to the Church, but these are always freely given and for the most part temporarily and partially. The Church, while she tends to hold Catholic Action within proper limits, actually places more confidence in religious in all areas of the apostolate. The object of this vocation is related to the nature of the apostolate of teaching, Concerning this object, the Church certainly commissions her religious to teach pro-fane disciplines in proportion as human progress fulfills the providence of God for the world and for man elevated to the supernatural order. As a matter of fact, she claims as her own the right of erecting schools of all kinds (c. 1375). And let us note that this is a deep and very extensive area in which the mission of lay religious coincides with that of lay Christians living in the world, one which we cannot develop here. But the principal object of the Church's mandate is the teaching of religion: the Church wishes religious to be her collaborators in her specifically divine and supernatural mission. Allow me to single out here three matters or conclusions of a practical nature: First, there is need for a demanding preparation in the teaching of religion. This is demanded by the Church and by the spread of the kingdom of God, both of which are very much bound up with the teaching of religion. It is also demanded by the current of the times. Superiors of teaching religious are much preoccupied with all this; and the Holy See has wished to put herself in the lead in this solicitude by creating recently at Rome the pontifical institute, Jesus Magister, for the higher scien-tific and religious formation of lay brothers, as she did three years ago in creating the institute, Regina Mundi, for religious women. Second, the schools of religious, even lay religious, are, rigorously speaking, "Church schools." If other schools can receive a mandate from the bishops, those of religious, especially, if they are of pontifical rank, have a mission from the Holy See. Thirdly, teaching lay brothers have the duty and the mandate to teach religion; but they have also a certain right. This is why it is that, under the supposition that they are well prepared, they cannot without injustice be deprived of this right and hin-dered from exercising it. According to canon 1373, § 2, the ordinary of the place must take care that religion be taught in secondary schools and places of higher education by zealous and learned priests. This does not apply to the colleges of religious, but to the schools of secular laymen + + + Teaching Brothers in the Church VOLUME 20, 196i about which the same canon, is speaking (cf. c. 1379, § 1). In each case it is incumbent on the ordinary of the place: to approve of the teachers (when they are not already ap-proved by institutes of pontifical rank) and of the religion books; to exercise vigilance for the faith and good morals; to make a visitation of the college in connection with the teaching of religion and of morals (c. 1373, § 2; 1381; 1382; 336; 618, § 2, 2°). In general he can examine teachers and forbid one or another to teach religion; but he cannot ab-solutely deprive a college of religious of the right to teach religion in order to confide this task to a priest. In this matter, for religious of pontifical rank, it is possible to bor-row a good practical juridical criterion from canon 880, § 3: "But in the case of a formal religious house, a bishop is not permitted, without consulting the Apostolic See, to take away at one and the same time the jurisdiction of all the confessors of the religious house." Conclusion From what we have said, we may conclude that the lay teaching brother represents an altogether special type of person in the Church. He is a person who, without be-longing to the class of clerics, enjoys its generic rights, ob-serves obligations common to clerics, and participates, in a certain measure, in the power of the magisterium of the hierarchy, in this way becoming a powerful and very effi-cient collaborator with the priesthood. This is said of re-ligious as such, that is, those entirely vowed to the state of total evangelical perfection and to the discipline of this state as the Church has organized it. Nevertheless, he has points in common with laymen living in the world in what pertains to the concept of a layman in the restricted sense of the word. In the Church, the lay religious represents, then, a special vocation, divine and canonical, tenderly defended and protected by the Holy See. A. ~,~l~rre~, (~.~.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 264 MICHAEL NOVAK The Priest in the "Modern World Part of tl~e difficulty in establishing the role of the priest in the modern world is due to the historical changes in society: the separation of Church and State, pluralism, popular education, and the like.~ Part is also due '~o the spiritual, inheritance of the American C~ttholicisrh. What happens to the priest in America ;is important for the world because it is in America that the new forms of civilization are being nurtured and that a new Christian humanism is taking root, as both Christ.0ph~r Dawson and Jacques Maritain have noticed. But many things in our land conspire to confuse the role of the priest. The recent~ presidential campaign showed .that in many ~areas of our country the words "ecclesiastical pressures" conjured up an ominous and ugly image and that "priesthood" is still a word of super-stition. On the other hand, the Hollywood image, as in Going My Way, seems intent on proving that the priest is a "regul-.,- guy";: even in Pollyanna the fearsome min-ister had to be converted and become a friend of all. It is as though the psyche.of America, deeply scarred by its experiences with theocratic Protestantism in its early history and with the more or less autocratic clerical types which it knew in Europe, is engaged in a struggle to as-similate a difficult figure in its world view. Early propa-ganda explicitly described America as a new world and as a p.aradise; and perhaps implicitly as an es,cape from the sinful and tangled past of Europe. It was as- though America would be the land without original sin, the land of a new humanism built by reason in the high flood of the Enlightenment. In this view, expressed in the writings of Thomas Paine and the good but secular life of Benjamin Franklin and preserved in many of our academic environments, today, a role for the priest is difficult to find. He is a relic of the past, a past that is not admired. The modern Protestant, Michael Novak, who is studying at Harvard University, is living at William James Hall 109A, Harvard Univer-sity, ~Cambridge 38, Massachusetts. VOLUME 20, 1961 265 Michael Novak REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 proud of the influenc~ his congregationalist and indi-vidualist theory have had upon the formation of Ameri-can democracy, has more and more democratized his own clergy. The transition in Pollyanna from fire-and-brim-stone to friendliness seems to symbolize quite well spiritual and social ~volution of the Protestant clergy. But in Italy too ~he American priest and seminarian probably distinguishable from his European counter-parts by a humanness and humor of view that is quite As Father Ong has pointed out, the American pastor is also a building pastor, who knows the language of builders and fund raisers; he has thus kept himself the everyday world of men. His European counterpart often far more aloof, even austere. It is even likely that younger American priests inherit the congenial, friendly attitudes more markedly than their elders who are closer to Europe. But at what point can the young priest draw the line in being a regular guy? Where does his identification with the laity begin and where does it end? The modern emphasis upon the apostolate of the laity has also, like the [actors mentioned above, helped confuse the_role the priest. Externally, the expectations of people° around him, within the flock and without, have ,changed. his own spiritual development is pulled in way and that: to silence and to action, to human develop-ment and denial, to affability and'restraint. It is diffi-cult [or the priest to find himself. In nearly every culture but our own, the social sig-nificance of the priesthood was not only great but central. Whether by special talent of mind or imagination, physical appearance, or early consecration, a priest was chosen to stand apart~ from and above other men. His counsels were important if not crucial; often he was highest leader; if not, his knowledge about the past, opinions about the future, and symbolic power over unknown forces of life were essential to the man who was. The early priest seemed to have combined in his person the.roles of priest, prophet,~and king; in fact, it was into this pattern b[ symbolism that Christ Himself was born, though the three functions had by that time been separated in practice. The splitting of these [unc-tions began early, but the social symbolism remained in the days of Greece and Rffme the power of the priest in civic matters was very great. Only in early Christian culture did ecclesiastical affairs begin to stoutl y defended as independent of secular affairs, and historical process~o[ distinction begin. In the Nestorian councils, the Church fought bitterly for the right to her own doctrine and her own line of bishops, independently of questions of empire and political peace. In later times, emperors and kings grew restive under clerical power, and the people grew restive under the kings. A thousand years of political evolution have given .us democracies and republics in which the role of the priest has changed often and'nearly always in a .fashion that has delimited his functions more :and more narrowly. Still, even today, the stature of a priest as "another Christ" and as a man of education and authority is carried over to some extent into social and~civic matters. Thus the priest of today has behind him a long histo.ry in which he has possessed at least a twofold status.He has repre-sented not only the -spiritual authority of Christ (which extends to some temporal:spiritual or "mixed:' matters like marriage) but also the social authority of secular prestige and influence. ,Modern times, however, have marked a decline in this second status, for widespread higher education and the maturing of the modern fields of specialization have produced many other leaders than the priest: lawyers, .doctors, business and labor leaders, intellectuals and artists, the ministers of many religions, and even many from~among the ordinary public. The priest, then, can no longer take for granted his place of prestige in secular society; he is one among many and will have little more influence than his energy and talents .earn. Given the tradition of anti-clericalism, which lives on in its, own forms even in America, he will ha,~e even less. . Moreover, the leadership in education which the priest once held has gradually been lost since the Enlighten-ment. Modern education no longer follows the curricula of the medieval universities; most men seem to feel that our civilization, with whatever loss, owes many of its ad-vances, political, and humane as well as material, to the shift~ At any rate, the priest is no longer among the few who are educated; he is among the many; and the main-stream of education does not parallel his own but diverges [rom it. His education is now seen as specialized, with its own jargon and viewpoints. It is no longer a classical education, "universal" or "liberal" in Cardinal Newman's sense; rare is the seminary in which, the classes in Greek and in Latin are not simply a gesture towards a dying or dead tradition and in which classes in modern literature, history, and social studies have taken up the slack. The seminary is isolated; it is not ordinarily in a university milieu. The professors in the nonecclesiastical subjects are not ordinarily specialis~ts, producing and creative in their fields; sometimes they are teaching merely because as-signed to teach. The seminary library is ordinarily thin in literature, sociology, politics, psychology, economics; the periodicals are mainly religious, Catholic, and popu-lar. In the isolation of the seminary, the professors of 4- 4. Th~ Priest in th~ Modern World VOLUME 20, 1961 267 4. 4. 4. Michael No~ak REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 268 philosophy and theology rarely have an opportunity take an active contemporary part in modern political, literary, scientific, and even religious discussions. Their fields no longer represent leadership in modern intel-lectual circles; and even within their fields, Catholic work is, not without some justice, in poor repute. There are exceptions to these strictures, of course; but I be-lieve it will be found that they are exceptions in great part because they fulfill the criteria mentioned and have grown strong in swimming against the stream. The facul-ties of many seminaries are small, ingrown, overworked, and not contemporary in their outlook. A seminary stu-dent once said a professor of his had "one of the best minds of the fifteenth century"; and the humor of the lay in the ingenuity of expressing the professor,s com-petence together with his liability. Another change in modern civilization is that art longer looks to the Church for patronage; young artists, in fact, are often among the most anti-clerical, while priests are among the least appreciative of the arts, clas-sical and especially modern. Of course, ordinary people in general have lost touch with the arts, and it is to be expected that the priest rise always above his origins. Many of the difficulties in the matter of censor-ship arise from this alienation of artist from people, and artist from priest; where there is little sympathy, is blocked. In politics, too, the priest plays lesser part than he was wont to do; when he does try use influence by swaying others, even through non-violent picketing or letter-writing, it is resented. Perhaps springs from memories of the past, perhaps part from the ambiguities of role still inherent in situation. At any rate, in most lands the priest plays greater part in politics than other professional men other men in general, exception'made perhaps for influence and kind of his opposition to Communism. Just as men today are more educated than before, so the social arrangement is more sensitive. ~Powers are better defined, and organized pressures are more quickly felt and more deeply resented. Even on religious and theological subjects, the ordinary people hear many speakers, gain many ideas and in-sights, see many varied forms of worship, apart from what they learn from their own priest. The result is that our pluralistic civilization, the people are free in priest's presence in a way never experienced before. When they submit to him in doctrinal and moral matters, not because they are overawed by his social stature greater learning or because they have nothing else against, which to compare what he tells them. It is because they make an act of faith that his authority comes from Christ. It is because they possess the simplicity of free and willing obedience, precisely one of the notes most proper to the Gospels. The attitude of the laity towards the priest can perhaps be more definite and single-minded now than befqre. Western culture is perhaps losing the layers of non-essential clerical authority. It is true that in some lands the transition to this new freedom has at first been tragic. New freedom tends to be intoxicating; the old confusion of spiritual and social status is slow.to clarify. For a whole generation or two or more, the transition can wreak disastrous gaps in the prac-tice of the love that should be shown to God and neigh-bor. On the other hand, for those persons and those lands who do mature to such obedience in faith, the obedience of free men standing erect as Charles P~guy used to say, there is a great gain in clarity of motive and relationship. The priest does not rule the flock as a tyrant does his subject peoples, or even as a paterfamilias used to rule his slaves, but as a father does his grown and free sons~ "not as the rulers of the gentiles . " And perhaps it is true that the good father puts himself in second place. The peasant classes of Europe were wont to invest the priest with much more authority than this, perhaps a little as the rulers of the gentiles. In Italy it is still the custom .to kiss the priest's hand, while kneeling be-fore him, as it was once the custom to greet a liege lord; the respect of the Irish for the priest and, perhaps similarly, of the peopl~ of the Tyrol for their priests (the cultural leaders in the enduring attempt to maintain independence from England and Italy) is quite well known. But the descendants of these peasants, in America now, may well be beginning to deny to the ,priest some of the attributes, like quasi-infallibility, they once im-plicitly seemed to grant-him. They may reason that if the Popes have recently had to call for liturgical reform, for a revival of Thomism, and for several other new currents of activity, then things have not been all they should. When they see priests disagreeing among them-selves, they begin to understand the freedom that is al-lowed to prudential judgment of concrete situations, on which differences are bound to thrive. Thus, due to the social changes of the last centuries, not yet at their culmination in the civilization that is to take shape from our own, the role of the priest in a pluralistic land is trying. A vast range of excellences is required of him. His every fault grates on sophisticated, and specialized, nerves. The freedom of the layman is a heady freedom; habits of anti-clericalism persist, espe-cially where they are stimulated by habits of clericalism that have not yet disappeared. In a transition period genial equilibirum is hard to maintain. Only the sim~- 4. The Priest in Mo~ World VOLUME 20, 1961 269 4" Michael Novak REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 270 plicity of freely yielded intelligence, in faith, gives the priest effective authority, and even then not in his own name, but in Christ's. And yet this yielding is at the heart of Christianity, a splendid ever-renewed miracle. Priest and people take up mature relationship, as fallibl~ human beings, at this font. If the priest's relations with others were the only diffi-culty with the pressure of modern change, his lot would be easier than it is. His most painful' task is in the orienta-tion of his own inner life. It is often, though, it must be stressed, not always observable that the spiritual forma-tion given in the seminary has its roots in cultures far different from our own, ones whose obstacles to Chris-tian life and advantages for Christian life were different from our own. In such cases much of seminary spiritual formation is irrelevant and could not in fact be con-tinued except in the hothouse isolation of ithe seminary; in priestly practice it wilts away. Where the public prayers, rules, and mental attitudes inculcated in the seminary derive from the European piety of the last few centuries, they are not simple, in touch with contem-porary reality, or directly reminiscent of the Gospels. To the American of our day, they seem overlaid with un-congenial sentiment, a strange legalistic attitude toward God, and narrow suspicion. Not a few books on the seminary rule and on growth in spiritual perfection seem to delight in driving the soul to more and more precise observance; there is in them little sense of enlargement, wholesomeness, freedom, and love, such as one gets~in reading'the Gospels. They !cad away from the experience of God to the observance of discipline; yet they are not so demanding and deep-searching as the works of St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa, which may not be read with near the frequency or attention. It might even be said that by their dwelling on the observance of discipline they conduce to a comfortable mediocrity and the easy appea~:ance of platitudes on the lips. The young priest has to make'up his own mind on each of these questions, but the difficulty is that the more in-tent on spiritual growth he is, the more he may, have given himself to uncritical docility. His spirituality, there-fore, may end up being a borrowed light, never seized by his owri independent judgment and rooted perma-nently and pei~sonally in his own intellect and will. The danger 'is great that the Jansenist strain so deeply rooted in most of the national stocks from which Our priests spring will be passed on uncritically from generation 'to generation and that .some young American clerics will strain every nerve during their seminary days to convince themselves of last century European attitudes which they do not share. It*is a shame When afterwards, as priests, they scuttle much of what they spent years trying to learn because it is unrealistic. Then,. Comes the tempta-tion to throw out everything that they learned. The task of the seminarian to grow up into the stature of a full human being of the late twentieth century and to grow up into the stature of Christ, is terribly difficult, because, for the most part, it must be done without guides. The riches of spirituality in the American spirit have hardly been noticed, let alone tapped; often the typically American virtues are stifled or at least warned against, perhaps because of the misunderstandings about "Ameri-canism" a half-century ago. The. young American priest, when he is faithful to his own best insights and spirit, is a new kind of priest and is working out a new image of spirituality. Perhaps some day one of them will set the new way d~wn in writing, and tl~e man~ will not feel so much alone. As the external social events of the c'enturie~ have served to strip down the ~ole of the pries~t t9 its priestly, Christlike essentials, so perhaps the new kind of. holiness will be only "the more excellent way" of which St. Paul speaks,'less legalist, more fully hum~in because divine, rddolent of freedom and love. To mfi'int~iin such holiness in the complexities of our age will be witness indeed to Christ. It will reach to the heart of our civilizati~6n. 4. 4. 4. The Priest in the Modern World VOLUME 20, 1961 - JOHN C. SCHWARZ, S,J. Journey into God ÷ ÷ John C. Schwarz, $.J., writes from 899 West Boston Boulevard, De: troit 2, Michigan. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 272 The Christian heart has always taken reverent inspira-tion from pilgrimage. But, in a certain real sense, the most sacred pilgrimage of all is traveled daily without a step taken or a sea crossed. This pilgrimage occurs i.n the Mass, a pilgrimage with vast practical significance for the dail,y life of the religious. Each morning at Mass the religious (and any partici-pant in the Holy Sacrifice, of course) travels a four-stage journey into God, a pilgrimage culminating in a renewal of abiding union wiih Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This journey's firslt stage begins with the introductory psalm and succeeding prayers at the foot of the altar, at a respectful distance from God. God is truly present, but priest and peop, le stand off, as at the entrance of a sacred shrine. God is present, but somewhat remote. The Mass moves on. The Consecration ushers man into the second stage of his journey, for now the once remote Lord becomes close at hand, warm and near, yet remain-ing exterior. God has drawn near, but union with Him remains incomplete. In the reception of Holy Communion the Lord dra-matically enters the human body and soul, _establishing a profoundly intimate union. So long as the sacred species remain, the humanity of the Word Incarnate abides. This union, though no longer exterior, remains temporary. This has brought the pilgrim to stage three. The final stage of the journey toward and even into God begins at last when the humanity of Christ Jesus departs with the Eucharist. The divine Persons remain-- in a union both interior and permanent. Only rejection by serious, wilful 'sin severs this union. Father, His eternal Son, and Spirit now reside within in a deeper, greater way. And thus a silent journey terminates in God. Significantly t,his renewal of union with the Triune God will occur for most religious as they conclude the time of Mass and meditation, setting forth into another' apostolic day. In God's designs Ithe Eucharist daily provides a visible, tangible reminder of the Christian's personal union with the indwelling God. This sacred symbol of grace and indwelling Love is held by the celebrant °above the ciborium, with the words "Ecce Agnus Dei . " Moments later, Christ Himself 'enters the body of those who re-ceive. Sensibly seen by the eyes and felt upon the tongue, the host is the living symbol and reminder of what the eyes can not see nor the tongue feel: sanctifying grace and union with the indwelling Lord. So "Communion is both a symbol and a cause of the inner'union which is aimed at.~'1 Nor is this profound union a fixed, static relationship. "The Eucharist is a food and presupposes the existence of life,''-~ and all life implies growth. The life of grace, so intimately linked to the indwelling, is.no exception. In fact, as Canon Cuttaz notes in his excellent study of grace? "The purpose and effect of Communion are to intensify God's presence in the soul by increasing grace." The Holy Spirit, sent initially in Baptism, is sent anew to the .soul with every increase of sanctifying grace. Hence wholehearted selfgiving in the Mass and Communion is the basis for a new sending 6f the Spirit and a deepening of the Trinitarian life within us. At this point a word of caution is appropriate. The heart of the Mass lies, of course, in the sacrifice of Christ and our privileged participation in that Godward act, not in Holy Communion. For Holy Communion derives its full meaning from its function in the sacrifice (and not vice versa), and it leads to divine fulfillment in the souls of those who have offered themselves to God "through Him, with Him, and in Him." God's indwelling fulfillment of His own desire to live in the human soul expresses the final perfection of His love. ~Nhat further can even God do while man remains in his time of growth and probation? Raoul Plus ob-serves that "This is the last word in the great secret of the Christian life." One often hears a certain school, automobile, book, or church structure praised, as "the last word, the finest, the ultimate perfection, superior to all others. The revealed fact of God indwelling stands as the "last word in the great secret," the ultimate gift. Even the stigmata of a St. Francis or the appearances granted to a Berna-dette ranked far below the Presence in their souls. But man's capacity for dull insensitivity in the presence of divine generosity rates high on the list of earth's won- ~"Sanctifying Grace" by E. Towers in The Teaching o] the Catholic Church (New York: Macmillan, 1954), v. 1, p. 564. 2 What is the Eucharist? by Marie-Joseph Nicolas, O.P. (New York: Hawthorn, 1960), p. 91. s Our Lile o] Grace (Chicago: Fides, 1958), p. 167. The essay on the indwelling, Chapter 6, is of particular value. ]ourney into God VOLUME 20, 196]. 273 ÷ + ÷ John C. $chwarz, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 ders. Imagine a man who barehandedly grasps a high-voltage cable exposed and sputtering, yet continues to converse amiably with bystanders while a stream of current charges through him! Transferred to matters spiritual, the image is not without value for stressing the fact that we comparably and steadfastly refuse to be impressed by the revealed fact of the omnipotent Creator's dwelling within us. Granted, voltage is felt, while God is noL Nevertheless, divine revelation confronts man with .the [act of the Trinity within when the soul possesses sanctifying grace. Such opportunity, provided by His presence, must be seized, utilized to the utmost; it should make a difference, shatter lethargy, produce results. Of what sort? Father Plus again: The imitation of the Lord Jesus should not be an imitation from without. We are not to copy Him in order to be able to reproduce Jesus Christ; we are to copy Him in order to be able to continue Him. Christ wishes to enjoy continuity in each one of us~ This is.the last word in the great secret of the Christian life . Our poor humanity is called to share, thanks to Jesus Christ and in Jesus Christ, the life of the three Persons.' The daily Mass-journey into God (or perhaps equally accurately, God's journey into the soul) provides a daily fresh start in one's continuance of Christ's life. Deliberate efforts at patience and love, at self-sacrifice and under-standing, at prayer and obedience, are merely efforts to present to Christ a mature and maturing personality which He can use. Refusal and culpable failure (that is, when cupable) in such efforts produce a serious restric-tion of Christ's intent to continue His life through this human being. A personality of harshness, 6f resentment, of careful focusing on the almighty minimum scarcely serves Christ's uses and designs, just as a child's violin, with three strings missing, would thwart even the great-est virtuoso. God must not be relegated to the shadows of the soul. Recently a portrait by the French impressionist, Cezanne, sold for $616,000 to a wealthy connoisseur and his wife. Will these new owners place this valued masterwork a shadowy cellar or storeroom? Yet God indwelling may be, in practical el~ect, reduced to a comparable insignifi-cance. Elizabeth of the Trinity, saintly young Carmelite of our own century, considered the Divine Guest as a singularly practical, albeit sublime, influence; practical results are expected: "He is ever living in ore: souls and ever at work there. Let us allow ourselves to be built up by Him, ' In Christ Jesus (London: Burns, Oates, and Washbourne, 1923), p. 26. May He be the soul of our soul, [he life of our life, so that we may be able to say with Paul I live, now not I." Perhaps the personal frustration vaguely felt by "shine religious springs from their practidal refusal "to be built up" by Christ, refusing'to relinquish habits,and attitudes ininiicable to Christ. One ffbui~ e~pect that the Infinite Lord can not be constrained without some degree of un-easy tension developing ~as a consequence." One is re-minded of the massive tension generated when aircraft engines are gunned to full power while the plane stands motionless, braked tightly, just before its take-off run down the airstrip. The plane thrpbs, with power con-strained. Then, engines subsided~ brakes released, the craft sweeps into smooth, swift motion down the airstrip and gracefully aloft. Engine powerhas been channeled into its normal fulfillment. Smooth performance results. Ten-sion resolves into flight. Perhaps the tension in some religious lives is, at least in part, comparable in origin, stemming at least to an extent from constraining the 'Lord :within. His dynamic life and love seeks cooperative expression in the life and love of a religious. Refusal to make a lifetime relation-ship out of this can 'produce only frustration and con-flict. ~ . ~." . ~ '" ' The four-phase Mass-journeys, into God brings ~the re-ligious once again to the .threshold.oLanother day where our_hUman efforts at charity will;as two voices harmonize in one song, blend into Christ's charity:Our human pa, tience, compassion, teaching, courtesy, gentleness; work, will blend into Christ's. ~.~ The Christ-union in this life, so, rich a delight, prepares the soul for a future prize indescribably richer so states Gerard-Manley Hopkins:° "r Be our delight, 0 Jesu now ~ As by and by our pri[e art Thou, And grant our glorying may be World with end alone in Thee. 5In asserting .the possibility of supernatural sources of tension, there is no intention of denying the importhnce and prevalence o[ natural soui'ces of tension, culpable and inculpable~, i:onscious and unconscious. ~ Translating :the "Jesu Dulcis Memoria." VOLUME 20, 1961 CARL LOFY, ,s.J. Finding God's Will Through the Discernment of Spirits Carl Lo~/, S.J., who is studying at the Univer-sity of Innsbruck, lives at Sillgasse 6, Inns-bruck, Austria. REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS 276 In a book published to help commemorate the fourth centenary of the death of St. Ignatius Loyola? a group of leading experts~on Ignatian spirituality has gathered a series of essays which, taken as a whole, constitutes one of the most valuable contributions to this field in the past decade. The profound insights it furnishes into the most fundamental aspects of the Spiritual Exercises make the book required reading for anyone seriously interested in retreat work and/or Ignatian spirituality. The most im-portant essay is that by Father Hugo Rahner on the dis-cernment of spirits. Most of the other~ eight articles pattern themselves ar6und that of Father Rahner's, espe-cially Father Heinrich Bacht's discussion of the discern-ment of spirits according to the early Church Fathers and Father Karl Rahner's study of the dogmatic implica-tions of finding the wili of God through the discernment of spirits. Hugo Rahner's Article ' ~ugo' Rahner's article can be summarized under the following po!nts: 1) For St. Ignatius the most important part of the retreatwas the election. Everything else in the Spiritual Exercises either builds towards this or is meant to strengthen it. 2) Among the three times outlined by. the saint for making the election, St. Ignatius felt that the second (that is, when the soul is moved by consolations and desolations) is and should be the most common. 3) As a result, the rules for the discernment of spirits take a Ignatius yon Loyola: Seine geistliche Gestalt und sein Ver-miichtnis. Edited by Friedrich Wulf, S.J., Wiirzburg; Echter Verlag, 1956. Hereafter this work will be referred to as Ignatiu.~. on extreme importance, since it is precisely through these rules that the retreatant distinguishes the different effects (consolations and desolations) of God, the good angel, and the devil in his. soul; moreover, it is through such dis-cernment that~the exercitant comes to a certain' election concerning God's will for him. In all this St. Ignatius had to presuppose several points as e~cident. The first of these is that~God does have a distinct will for each individual. Secondly, it is not al-ways possible to know that will simply by applying gen~ eral moral principles to particular~ situations, To know that each of two acts would be prudent ~ind good ,does not yet assure one to which of these two God is calling him. Finally, God can and often does manifest His will for the individual through consolations and desolations. When He so acts, His will can be discovered by applying the rules for the discernment of spirits to the different consolations and desolations one experiences in his prayer as he considers against the background of the life of Christ the alternatives of election. Father Rahner insists that this should be the most common way of making the election. ~ ~ ' "Impliqations ol This~ View,~ Let us consider for a moment some of the implications of this interpretation. In most present,day practice2 it is taken for granted that the'third time for making the election (that is, when the person is not moved by~ the different spirits) iSthe most common. Why this is so is not immediately evident. Perhaps we are afraid to attribute our consolations and desolations to supernatural causes when we know today how much can be caused naturally by the subconscious forces at work in us. (Father Karl Rahner handles this p~obl~m explicitly in his article.) In any case, we tend rather to elect what we are going to_do for God rather, than to discover, what God wants of us. Confronted by a choice between two good or indifferent acts, we normally ask ourselves: "Where can I most 2See, for example, John A. Hardon, S.J:~ All My Liberty: The Theology oI the Spiritual Exercises 0Nes[minster: Newman, 1959), p. 66: "This [the third time for an election] is the most ordinary. time [or reaching a decision." Father Hardon reduces the first time to a "miraculous grace" (an opinion quite co,ntrary to that of both Father Hugo Rahner and Father Ignacio Iparraguirre [Ignatius, pp. 305 ands311]) and handles the second time in three sentences. For him the third time is also '~the most securE" time. "]'his is some-what difficult to understand since, by defimtlon, ~n the first time the person "neither doubts nor as capable of doubting' (Sptr, tual Exer-ctses, n. 175). For Father Hardon t.he third ttme ~s valuable as a check on the second time, which Father Rahner also admits (Ignatius, p. 311). Yet it is interesting to note that for St. Ignatius the second time is the check on the third time and not vice versa; on this see. foot-note 3. + ÷ ÷ The Discernment of Spirit~ VOLUME~ .20, 19~1 277 " 4. Carl Lo~y, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 278 certainly save my soul? Where'can I be of more help others?~Along what lines d~o my talents run?" and so f6rth. All this is good, 'Fffther Rahner' would say, if we-have first tried the first two times of election and have dis- ,covered that the different spirits are .in fact not at work in us. Moreover, we should recall that St. Ignatius ques-tioned the earnestness of one who is :not so moved. other words, the presupposition that we are not and 'will not be moved by the different spirits is directly foreign to the saint's thinking, For St. Ignatius, the main task of.the exercitant is try to :get into vital, personal contact with God and this contact to ask God what He wants of him. Only God does not "answer" is the exercitant to consider quietly the. pros and cons; and~even in this case, after ar-riving at his decision, he is to ask God for confirmation in the form of consolation.3 Instinctively perhaps we find such language strange: ."How can God tell us His will through consolations and desolations?" And yet it re-mains true that Ignatius was convinced that God can and does "talk" to us through consolations and that ~e can interpret His "words" to us through the rules for the discernment of spirits. Once this fundamental position of the saint is accepted, ~°ne Sees these rules in their proximity to the election at the very heart of the Spiritual Exercises~ The same can also be said for our daily prayer as well. For, as Father Josef Stierli points' out in his article, "Ignatian Prayer: Seeking God in All Things," the search for God in all things is primarily a search for the will of God°in all things; only secondarily is it an affective con~ templation of Him in His creatures, In our daily prayer we are to ask~God what His will~i~ifor us, "not only in our state of life but also in. all particulars.''4 Father Adolf Haas shows ,us in his article, "The Mys-ticism of Saint Ignatius as Seen in His Spiritual Diary," how St. Ignatius did this in his own daily prayer. Here see the saint seeking, in the heights :of mystical union with the different Persons of the Trinity confirmation of his 8 spiritual Exercises, n. 178: "If a choice of a way of life has not been made in the first and second time, below are given two ways of making ~/ choice of a way of life in the third time." See also n. 180, where even in the third time of election we are told to "beg God our Lord to deign to move my will, and to bring to my mind what I ought to do in this matter fhat would be more for His praise and glory"--as 'though in one final attempt to r~main in the ~econd time. Only after this' request are we to "use the understanding to weigh the matter with care and fidelity." And after reaching a de-cision through this rational process, we are to "turn with great dili, gence to prayer in the presence of God our Lord, and offer Him this choice that the Divine Majesty may deign to accept and con-firm it if it is for His ~reater service and praise" (n. 183). ¯ Summary o] the Constitutions oI the Society oI Jesus, Rule 17. election concerning his order's poverty. "Eternal Father, confirm me in my election. Eternal Son, confirm me. Eternal Holy Spirit, confirm me. Holy Tri~nity, confirm me. Thou, my only God, confirm me.''~ The entire con-text of this prayer sho.ws, that Ignatius is here not seeking strength to carry out a.n'~ election already made, but the assurance that what he has elected is truly.the will of God. Confirmati.on means, therefore, the certitude, penetrating the entire personality, that one has really found Goffs will. It is--to use the phras~ found frequent!y in the letters of both St. Ignatius and St. Francis Xavier--"the grace to feel in the innermost part of ourbeing God's. will for us."O +, Role of the Retreat Director This interpretation of Father-Rahner, of course, raises serious dogmatic questions and difficulties. Can we really trust the rules for the discernment of spirits? Does God really make known to individuals His will for. them as' individuals? Are the first and second times for election really more secure than the more rational third time? What is the relation between God's will for~the individual and, the consolation experienced as confirmation? It was the task of Father Karl Rahner to answer these and other questions. He does so brilliantly; but .since his article will appear soon in English,7 we need, not discuss it here, especially since its complex reasoning processes would take us far beyond the scope of this present paper. What should be stressed here is that in the light of this interpretation ~ the role of the retreat director is seen under a new aspect. Retreat-giving need not involve so much the ability to give inspiring points' for meditation (Ignatius insisted that these be short and "to the point, that the main work be left to the exercitant"), as the ability to discern the spirits at work in the exercitant's soul in his search for the will of God. This is a pains-taking, delicate t~ask, not to be regarded lightly. Ignatius himself thought that of all the Jesuits of his day (over a thousand) he knew of only three who fulfilled his ex-pectation~ of,a good retreat master,s In this context the ~ Ignatius, p. 199. , 0 It:is astonishing to see how often this phrase occurs at the close )f the letters of both saints, In the original Spanish, Saint Ignatius )ften uses the word "sentir 'la voluntad de Dios," which means con-siderably more than "to know" and is better translated as~ "to feel" or "to. be deeply aware of." On this see Obras cornpletas~ de $. lgnacio de Loyola, edited by Ignacio Iparraguirre, S.J. (Madrid: BAG, 1952). ~ In the translation of the book Das Dynamische in der Kirche (Freiburg: Herder, 1958). a Ignatius, p. 257. ÷ 4- The Discernment VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS last part of Father Bacht's article on the role of the re-treat director deserves careful study and restudy. Father Friedrich Wulf's article on Ignatius as director of souls is important in this connection, because it con-tains many remarkable, hitherto unpublished, texts which reveal the saint's personality. Here, too, we see the tre-mendous importance Ignatius placed on the discernment of spirits in his direction of others. The article furnishes rich food for thought for any spiritual director, Practical Importance of This Interpretation We have been able here to sketch only briefly the more important points of this book. There are many others. We can only encourage the reader to take the book and study it carefully; it is to be hoped that the work finds an early translation, for the ideas it contains are basic [or a proper understanding of the Spiritual Exercises and of Ignatian spirituality. Father Hugo Rahner's article is of special importance for it returns to the position of St. Ignatius that God really "talks" with us in prayer and in time of retreat, that He really makes His will known to us --His will for us as individuals. Retreat making is, there-fore, not so much a time of mere resolution making, as of finding God; not so much a renovation of spirit as an inner development in which the person strives for deep, personal contact with God and, in this contact, for God's will for him as an individual. This is the deeper meaning hidden in Ignatius' use of the word "election." This is a bold interpretation, but one which is receiv-ing more and more backing by recent research.9 It is an interpretation that deserves serious attention. One gets the impression at times that retreats are a trifle too volun-taristic, somewhat too impersonal, too separated from prayerful union with God. Do not many work out resolu-tions, make plans for the future, form new particular examens--all.quite independently of formal prayer? Of course, once we have made the resolutions and plans, we offer them to God, ask His grace to fulfill them, and so forth; but the resolution making process itself remains basically rounded-off in itself, shut off, completely (as it were) "our.own." Often we are n6t open to God during the process itself. "God, what will You have me do? What do You want of me?" Such an approach would open us to God within the very resolution making process. The latter would become, quite literally, a search for the will ~ See especially Gaston Fessard, S.J., La dialectique des Exercices Spirituels de Saint lgnace de Loyola (Paris: 1956) and August Brun-ner, S.J., "Die Erkenntnis des Willen Gottes nach den Geistlichen 3O0b u(n1g9e5n7 d),e ps ph. e1i9li9g-e2n1 2I.g Sneaeti ualss oy othne Lboibyloiolag,r"a pinhy G geivisetn u bnyd FLaethbeernll,l lv].[ Rahner in his footnotes, especially on pages 305, 312, and 313. o[ God. The dialogue with God would begin immediately (not merely after the formation of resolutions) and at a much deeper level of the indiyidual's personality. There would be (to use Browning's words) "no spot for the crea-ture to stand in," not even his good resolutions. For we are creatures in everything. We serve God only through His gift to us. He alone knows how we can serve Him as individuals with a radicality of dedication and surrender. He alone can break into the hard core that "protects" the inner core of a self and there touch us and so awaken us to life. It is possible and all too easy to form plans serving God which, although good, do not get down into the real self, do not take hold. of the Whole person, and which, when completed, contain the d.anger of being something "outside God," something strictly our own. To avoid this danger the use of the rules for the discern, merit of spirits in the second time to making an election can be of fundamental importance ~ind help. The Discernmt, nt o] Spirits VOLUME 20, 1951 281 WILLIAM H. QUIERY, S.J. Courage and Counseling William H. Quiery, &J., writes from Cam;, pion House, B29 West 108th Street; New Yolk 25, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 Nothing has quite the' force to convince us that we are human as the phenomenon of fear. And nothing can ap-pear to be so ridiculous. Bruce Catton, in his account of the early years of the Civil War, Glory Road, records an amusing incident of a panic-stricken squad of Union troops put to flight by a rumor of a Rebel~breakthrough some miles ahead. As the men ran in disorder past a farm-house, a calm old lady sat on the porch enjoying the spectacle. The soldiers were almost out of their heads in the grip of mob hysteria, and the woman stood up and called to them, "What in the world are you boys running from? They're only men!" The soldiers had no answer for the jibe, of course. Each of them knew that he wasn't acting with cool reason at the moment. The enemy hadn't been seen and counted and a quiet estimation made of their striking force. The Northerners were simply running, that was all. It was the best they could do at the time. Terror had them by the throats. All the unknowns were jumbled and lumped to-gether and blown up into something like that horrifying ghost that children see leaning over their beds at night. That's what was chasing the squad of Yankees. Most of us have little trouble understanding this sort of panic because we have found ourselves in somewhat sim-ilar circumstances, in the grip of unreasonable fears and emotions. Everyone is acquainted with worry and anxiety and tension, at least of a minor sort: the "formless fears" of C. S. Lewis. What makes such fears particularly mysterious and exasperating is the fact that frequently.! enough we are fully conscious that there is nothing to be anxious about, or certainly nothing in the situation that calls for quite the emotional response we find ourselves giving it. We wonder where our courage is at times like these.' Yet strange to say, we have not lost our major life-ideals in any way: We would rather die than desert our cause, and we would never calmly choose to be traitors no mat-, ter what the threat. Still we find ourselves unnerved by ~' / a set of circumstances of small moment and reacting childishly while we know we are not childish at heart. And I am not speaking here of a. problem which i consider to be a specifically religious one.~.It would not be correct to say that there are special threats in the re-ligious or ,priestly life viewed in its spiritual aspects. For our consecration to God is nora gamble. On the contrary, vows are m.eans of making perfection of life more easy and secure. ~One. of the purposes of the vows, according to St. Thomas, is. to eliminate the "main 6bstacles to a perfect love and service of God, to,guarantee, as.much as is pos-sible on this earth, a secure hold on some of the most powerful spiritual means the Church knows of. If we are subject to worries and fears.of variou~ ~.kinds to a somewhat greater extent, than ordinary people, the reason is probably the simple fadt that we have taken owa rather ambitious form of life, that otir aim is high, that we make a more self-conscious effort right from the beginning to fill out and make use of our share of human talent. Our.,counterparts on the :non-religious level are the~politicians and the doctors and the scholars, yes, and those bent on heaping up a material fortune. It ivwith this group that we might find a compai~able level of tension~ anxiety, and worry: From this point of view, then, we, should not be sur-prised to discover that part Of the price of our spiritual ambitions will be some sort of, interior susceptibility to inner conflicts and phobias.~But we have far more reason for trying to control and limit our anxieties and fears ~ttian~ have other ambitious people. Out,target is not an earthly one, but the glory .of God and the sanctification of men. It will be a'great loss if we are kept from that. The panic of the Union troop was not a logical and calculated response to a threat, and this is the case'.with human fears generally.oOur responses are seldom exactly what they should be; and I am not referring to any sort of psychotic or compulsively neurotic reaction, but~just to the "off-balance" emotional reactions that perfectly normal people experience. For iristance, there is nothing unusually abnormal! in a religious who is worried, even greatly~ worried, abouf some truly risky situation: whether,~f0r example, a certain studefit should be. expelled for the good of the others or for the relief of the teacher. The trouble b~gins, though, when the legitimate and reas'6n~able worry develops into a permanent hnd troUblesome, anxiety that louvers his ef-ficiency and impairs the effectiveness, of his work. It is perfectly normal and rational to' experience the sensation of loneliness when one actually is ;ilone. The presence of God, for. the ordinary person, simply does + + + Courage and Counseling. VOLUME 20, 1961' 283 ÷ ÷ ÷ w. H. Qulery, s.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 28~4 not compensate for the absence of human companionship. Holiness does not change the social nature of man. But loneliness becomes an unreasonable thingwhen it carries us into a paralyzing depression despite all we do to pre-vent it. Such self-pity is not deliberately chosen. We not turn it on as we might a TV set. We should not be surprised, then, if it does not fade out with a simple flick of a switch. The ambitious role we have chosen in life often calls for public service. Religious frequently work in the public eye, teaching, lecturing, or representing their group in panel discussion or at a civic council of some kind. Every normal person will feel some sort of nervous excitement or self-consciousness in public appearances, particularly at first. But these normal emotional reactions can become unreasonable bullies. They can scare us out of our job and our vocation altogether; or, what is bad enough, ruin our performance. Nor does it satisfy us to say "God will supply" and done with it. We are not entitled to leave things to God until we have exhausted all our ordinary resources and our ingenuity as well. In action, it is a good rule to act though everything depends on our own work (as though God will not supply), provided we pray as though every-thing depends on .God. Other instances of normal emotions which get out hand are easy to find. To hesitate makes sense when much is at stake and when we are :all too conscious of our falli-bility. But excessive hesitancy and indecision can sap strength and waste our time. Again, discouragement an .understandable thing in view of our daily failings; but unfortunately this very subtle and dangerous emotion (Is it not a form of fear?) can grow into a sentimental resignation to mediocrity of a ruinous kind. Again, sense of guilt is common and healthy, scruples a torment-ing excess. Embarrassment is everyone's lot at one time another, but a perrilanent timidity is usually a limita-tion. All of us feel emotion at times; almost all suffer from excess of it at least occasionally. Under stress we feel con-fused. Some exasperating inner battle is'going on and must bear.it at least for a time. It is on such occasions, when we have only a blurred view of our value scale, that we make hurried and faulty decisions. If the instances emotional pressure are froequent, we may find ourselves regularly ,doing quite childish ,things. We know what right, but by a weird subconscious illogic, we do not feel that it is the right thing to do---at least not ~his time. We know we should not be timid or unnerved or so worried' as we are. It may even be clear to us that our state of mind is ridiculo~us, that we will laugh at ourselves later on. But at the time, it does not ]eel ridiculous at all. 'It is not a laughing matter. The philosophers can explain it all to us in technical terms. The mind, the); say~, exercises only political con-trol over the emotions. But what concerns the average person most is what in the world [o do about it.'What kind of interior politics will get the constituents back, into line? Prayer and the sacraments, mortification, sublima-tion, distraction, advice-seeking, rest--alL.of these we en-list in our cause and still we find ourselves over-reacting to minor threats, slipping into unreasonable depression, or harrassed by toll-taking inner unrest. Courage alone is not the cure. Nor,:in fact, can we-talk of a L complete cure in this world for this weakness in our make-up. A cure will only come in heaven with the restoration of the gift of integrity which the first human being lost for the whole family that follows him. A partial solution to this type of problem may very well be counseling--and that is.the burden of this article--but not just any kind~ of counseling will help. These are cases where information is not lacking--the sufferer ordi-narily knows the pertinent facts or at least knows where they can be found and so there is very little to be gained in having them told to him all. over again. And since the person's desire to get over the problem is very great to be-gin with, the type of counseling which includes strong urging on the counselor's part is .likewise of little use. Now this particular area is one that the so-called "client-centered" or "non-directive" or "self-directive" counseling is admirably suited to take care of. In practice such coun-seling has been found to help with many kinds of prob-lems, from normal everyday decision-making to the give-and- take of classroom discussion, from the troulSlesome minor f~irs we are discussing here to more serious per-sonality conflicts. Client-centered counseling is by no means a modern in-vention. In fact, some Catholic authorities claim that it is very similar to the approach'bf som~ traditional spir-itual directors. However, a new surge of interest has taken place in the field since the earlg. 1940's. Responsible for much of this new interest is Dr. Carl Rogers. His bobk, Client-Centered Therapy (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1951), is probably the most important book in the field today. In 1952 Reverend Charles A. Curran of Loyola University, chicago, published his well known book Counseling in Catholic LiIe and Education (New York: Macmillan, 1952), in which he demonstrated the relation of such counseling to Thomisti~ psychology and ex-plained how these psychological counseling skills can be 4- Courage and Counseling VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ w. H. Q=,iery, s.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 286 applied to specifically Catholic problems. This book is still the standard Catholic~ treatment of the matter, and though directed primarily to psychologists, would be valuable reading for anyone interested in learning more about the subject. . In the past fifteen years the seeds sown by these write

Issue 68.2 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; Mission and Ministry Renewing Religious Traditions Reviewing Outward Signs QUARTERLY 68.2 2009 Review for Religious fosters dialogu~e withGod, dialogue with ourselves~: and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according ~ iocharisms of~Catholic religiouslif¢. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being Church is todqy the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034o639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2009 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any inaterial (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Catholic ~pir~ual~y Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp . Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen HughesRSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.2 2009 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 132 144 mission and ministry ~ ~_ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principle,s: A Missioner's Reflection James H. Kroeger MM shares with us ten "mission principles" valid for Paul of Tarsus and for today's Pauls as well--the result of his own reflections as a missionary and a meditative reading of St. Paul. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion A Franciscan Approach to Ministry Daniel P. Horan OFM ~eflec~s on Francis of Assisi's life and writings and suggests that the five characteristics that emerge provide a helpful parad!grn for all pastoral ministers in the church. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion Discipleship and Walking by Faith Damian C. Ilodigwe, along with Abraham and the apostle Thomas, shows that discipleship needs deep faith daily. Review for Religious 152 168 renewing religious traditions Reparation and the Sacred Heart: A New Intrepretation Virginia M. Herbers ASCJ suggests a new understanding of reparation which speaks to the lived reality of the Body of Christ in a global community as well as to the Christian mission to live a life of service. Being Heard, Being Healed: Learning from the Quaker Tradition James H. Schimelpfening SM shares his refreshing experience of community that came from a series of six seasonal retreats based on the Quaker tradition and the work of Parker Palmer. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion 181 192 reviewing outward signs Religious Habits Reconsidered Doris Gottemoeller RSM looks over changes of habit and other changes and raises some thoughtful questions about what is now past, having been passed with a view to the future. On Wearing a Habit, from My Perspective Patricia McCarthy CND shares her experience of responding to God's grace in giving witness to her religious consecration in order to help us all to question our freedom in responding to God's grace in our own call. departments 204 Scr.ipture Scope: The Gospel of St. Paul 208 Canonical Counsel: Response to the Role of Law in the Church 214 Book Reviews 68.2 2009 prisms 116 T celebration of the Pauline Year has stimulated a large number of books on the person and writings of St. Paul. As a theologian I have been most taken by the importance of the Holy Spirit in Paul's Letters. In dogmatic development, it will take a few centuries before the church can articulate a theology of the Trinitarian God, and so Paul's writings about the working of the Spirit are all the more arresting. One of the titles that we give to the Holy Spirit in our Nicene creed is "Giver of life." That title is one of the best summaries for how Paul describes the Spirit in the life of the individual Christian and of the Christian community. In his Letter to Titus, Paul makes a summary statement about how much the Spirit is truly the Giver of life. "[God] saved us through the bath of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he richly poured out on us through Jesus Christ our savior." Through the image of the Spirit being poured out, all the specifics of this new life find their font. Early on in his First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul asks "Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?" He then goes on to say "for the temple of God, which you are, is holy." But Paul becomes more creative and copious in his description of the Spirit's gifts when he employs the image of the human body. That we all are members of the Body R~vie~ for Religious of Christ receives its most detailed description in this Letter of Paul's. We are all baptized into the one Body in the one Spirit. The Spirit is the Giver of the many different kinds of spiritual gifts, and at the same time "to each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit" (1 Co 12:7). What we might take for granted, Paul assures us, is the Spirit's gift. Paul's example is "No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 12:3). Surely our sacramental words, "I absolve you," "this is my Body," "I baptize you," are Spirit-filled and Spirit-given words. But more simply, our expressed desires--"teach me to pray," "Lord, for-give me," "Lord, here I am"--are the continuing daily pouring out of gifts of the Spirit. That the total health of the Body depends on each and every one of us being open to the gifts of the Spirit and so sharing this divine life remains central to Paul's theology of the Spirit's gift-ing both to the individual Christian and to the Christian community. In Paul's Letter to the Romans we receive the rich-est understanding of our prayer as Christians. "The Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings" (Rm 8:26). Our very effort to pray--sometimes feeling so dry and empty--is always a gift of the Spirit. Perhaps our own sense of futility in praying excites the gifting of the Spirit's groans within us all the more, and within the groanings of the community praying as well. Paul's insight gives us consolation in our daily effort to pray. From these few examples, perhaps we will be stirred to greater gratitude for Paul's own gift of in.sight into the Spirit as the Giver of life as we celebrate.the Pauline Year. David L. Fleming SJ 117 68.2 2009 mission and JAMES H. KROEGER Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles: A Missioner's Reflection ministry The apostle Paul is considered the greatest missionary of all time. He is called the Apostle of the Gentiles since he was mainly responsible for the spread of Christianity into the Gentile world. The church owes much to Paul for its growth; he pioneered its early expansion by his mission labors and his theological reflection. A brief synopsis of Paul's life includes the following approximate chronology: 5-10 (birth at Tarsus), 15-20 (studies in Jerusalem), 36 (conversion), 36-39 (Damascus, Arabia, Jerusalem), 39-43 (Tarsus), 43-44 (Antioch), 44-48 (first missionary journey), 49-50 (Council of Jerusalem; Antioch confrontation with Peter), 49-53 (second missionary journey), James H. Kroeger MM, a missionary in Asia (Philippines and Bangladesh) since 1970, is professor of systematic theology, missiology, and Islamics at the Loyola School of Theology; Ateneo de Manila University; Katipunan Avenue, Loyola Heights; Quezon City 1108; Philippines. jkroeger@admu.edu.ph 53-58 (third missionary journey), 58-60 (prisoner in Caesarea), 60-63 (voyage to Rome, prisoner in Rome), 64-66 (Spain? Rome? elsewhere?), 66-67 (prisoner in Rome), 67/68 (death in Rome). This brief chronology provides the context from which Paul's dynamic mission principles emerge; they are the result of both mission praxis and deep theological reflection. Paul's letters and the Acts of the Aposdes provide much insight into Paul's missionary thinking and methods. Over the centuries many authors have tried to digest Paul's mission thought and praxis, emphasizing the "central ideas" of this aposde. This effort may be admi-rable, but can result in a certain selectivity. Thus, this author is chary of claiming to capture the "essence" of Paul's insights. One cannot compose a "CliffsNotes" or abbreviated version of Paul's thought. His letters were written over a span of ten years; they were based on a lengthy ministry of preaching the gospel message in an extraordinary variety of circumstances and to diverse groups of people. Readers, consider this pie.ce a long-term ad gentes missionary's :personal reflections based on a medita-tive reading of St. Paul. Through an interaction of this writer's personal experience and the profound thought of Paul, ten "mission principles" took form. Emerging from Paul's life and refracted through the experience of a contemporary missioner, these insights are, I think, valid for the church's missionary activity today, twenty centuries after Paul's birth. Depth Awareness of Vocation. In Paul's mind there was no iota of doubt about his calling, his vocation; for Paul and all missioners, mis-sion originates in the call of God. Several passages in the 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles book of Acts portray this: "The Lord said to [Ananias], 'Go, because this man [Paul] is my chosen instrument to bring my name before Gentiles'" (Ac 9:15). "The God of our ancestors has chosen you . . . because you are to be his witness before all humanity, testifying to what you have seen and heard" (Ac 22:14-15). "I have appeared to you for this reason: to appoint you as my servant and as witness of this vision in which you have seen me" (Ac 26:15). In addition, the majority of Paul's letters begin with a firm assertion of his identity as a chosen instrument of God. "From Paul . . . an apostle who does not owe his authority to men or his appointment to any human being, but who has been appointed by Jesus Christ and by God the Father who raised Jesus from the dead" (Ga 1:1-2). "From Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus who has been called to be an apostle, and specially chosen to preach the Good News" (Rm 1:1). Several other let-ters begin with almost the same words: "From Paul, appointed by God to be an apostle of Christ Jesus" (2 Co 1:1); see also 1 Co 1:1, Ep 1:1, Col 1:1, Ph 1:1, and others. Writing to the Corinthians about Christ's resur-rection, Paul categorically states: "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, since I persecuted the church of God, I hardly deserve the name apostle; but by God's grace that is what I am, and the grace that he gave me has not been fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). Radical Commitment to Christ. Paul's experience on the Damascus road was, in fact, only the starting point of a lifelong relationship; mission envisions a totally Christ-centered life. Paul expresses this in various ways: "Life to me, of course, is Christ" (Ph 1:21). "None of us live to ourselves, and none of us die Review for Religious to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's" (Rm 14:7-8). "I have been crucified with Christ, and I live now not with my own life, but with the life of Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:19-20). All of Paul's writings speak of his love for Christ, his identification with Christ. So intimate was his rela-tionship that he could even advise the Corinthians: "Imitate me as I imitate Christ" (1 Co 11:1). Paul tells the Thessalonians that they can follow his example: "You observed the sort of life we lived when we were with you, which was for your instruction; you were led to become imitators of us and of the Lord" (1 Th 1:5-6). Paul, writing to the Philippians, makes a moving com-parison of his previous life to his newfound existence in Christ: "I believe nothing can happen that will out-weigh the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Christ and be given a place in him" (Ph 3:8-9). Voluntary Acceptance of Suffering Not relying on words alone, the apostle Paul preached the gospel by his life and example. In a par-ticular way, vulnerability and acceptance of the cross authen-ticate mission. In imitation of Christ who gave himself up to death even for sinners (Rm 5:8), Paul considers his suffering for the sake of the gospel to be a participa-tion in Christ's sufferings (2 Co 1:5-7). Paul saw him-self as sharing in Christ's kenosis (Ph 2:6-11). Writing to Timothy he says: "Join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling" (2 Tm 1:8-9). 121 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯Paul'$ Dynamic Mission Principles Paul recounts his numerous trials in the service of the gospel; he mentions his imprisonments, beatings, shipwrecks, travels, robberies, hard labor, sleeplessness, hunger, thirst, and nakedness (see 2 Co 11:23-27). Paul also mentions that he had to bear "a thorn in the flesh" (2 Co 12:7). Yet, he notes, "I am quite content with my weaknesses, and with insults, hardships, persecutions, and the agonies I go through for Christ's sake. For it is when I am weak that I am strong" (2 Co 12:10). Of course, this vulnerability is intimately linked with the paradox of the cross: "Continually we carry in our bod-ies the.dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may also be revealed" (2 Co 4:10). Like Paul, all missionaries need to say, "May I never boast of anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Ga 6:14). Insightful Mission Methods One can affirm that all Paul's energies were mission-focused, yet one can also point out that he employed dis-tinct methods to achieve his purposes. Mission demands creative, inculturated, ever-renewed approaches to evange-lization. Paul sought various occasions which would facilitate his proclamation; he attempted to connect his preaching with people's daily lives and worldview. Paul's approach at Ephesus (Ac 19) is exemplary; he would preach in a synagogue or a nearby house and attempt to link th~ Jewish faith with Christian revelation (see Ac 13:5 & 14, 14:1, 17:1). Acts 17:22-31 narrates Paul's famous speech in the Areopagus, the central assembly place in Athens, the cultural capital of the Greek islands. Paul mentions their altar to an unknown god; he refers to the philoso-pher- poet Epimenides (vv. 23 & 28). Although many mocked Paul, his intelligent method won some followers Revie~v for Religious for Christ. Paul, the "practical" missioner, moved from the familiar to the unfamiliar, from the unknown to the known. Pope John Paul II has exhorted missionaries to move into new mission frontiers, "the modern equiva-lents of the Areopagus" (Redemptoris missio, §37). Paul's missionary sensitivities are manifested in his conviction that adaptation (inculturation, in today's parlance) is essential when mission meets a new situa-tion (Ac 15). He vigorously opposed the imposition of Jewish legal traditions, cultural observations, or external religious practices on Gentile Christians; these could hinder the spread of the gospel into the Gentile world. Paul even withstood James in Jerusalem (Ac 15) and Peter in Antioch (Ga 2:11-14). Paul articulates his "inculturated" method of becom-ing "all things to everyone" (1 Co 9:19-23). He adapts himself to the Jews, to those outside the law, and to the weak. His vision is crystal clear: "I have made myself the slave of everyone so as to win as many as I could. ¯. I made myself all things to everyone in order to save some at any cost; and I still do this, for the sake of the gospel, to have a share in its blessings." Urgent Gospel Proclamation ~. Paul did not understand "preaching" as giving a spir-itual reflection in a liturgical assembly. Integral procla-mation means heralding an urgent message from God that profoundly affects the destiny of all humankind. Mission has lost none of its urgency in the contem-porary world. Paul's words possess an authentic ring-- even in our ears today: "For, if I preach the gospel, that gives me no ground for boasting. For necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!" (1 Co 9:16). For all Christians, evangelization must be a 123 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles "daily preoccupation" (2 Co 11:28). As Pope Paul VI noted, "the presentation of the gospel message is not an optional contribution for the church. It is a duty incumbent on her by the command of the Lord Jesus" (Evangelii nuntiandi, §5). This Pauline "mission principle" is actually a call for an examination of conscience on the part of the church. Have many local churches placed too much emphasis on administrative efficiency, pastoral management, eco-nomic accountability, liturgical practice, canonical and catechetical orthodoxy--all to the detriment of dynamic programs of renewed evangelization? Have inward (ad intra) concerns vitiated the church's outward (ad extra) mission commitments? Paul's words contain a challenge to all churches and religious communities: "All the way along, from Jerusalem to Illyricum, I have preached Christ's Good News to the utmost of my capacity" (Rrn 15:19). Paul wrote these encouraging words to Timothy: "Make the preaching of the Good News your life's work, in thoroughgoing service" (2 Tm 4:5). 124 Deep Love of the Church In examining Paul's apostolic methods, it is enlight-ening to probe his view of the church. Paul primarily understands the church as a local community of baptized followers of Jesus Christ; he was not opposed to a uni-versal church, but in his day the local congregation was central to his experience. Mission and love of the people who constitute the church go hand in hand. This principle echoes the thought of an elderly Maryknoll missioner who never tired of repeating: Mission is people. Paul had great love and concern for the ecclesial com-munities he founded with painstaking effort. His writ-ings frequently and spontaneously express his affection: Review for Religious "It is only natural that I should feel like this towards you all, since you have shared the privileges which have been mine: both my chains and my work defending and estab-lishing the gospel. You have a permanent place in my heart, and God knows how much I miss you all, loving you as Christ Jesus loves you" (Ph 1:7-8). When the churches Paul established with patient apostolic ministry were in trouble, he shared their pain; he speaks of his "daily anxiety" for them (2 Co 11:28). He wonders aloud: "I am afraid that my work for you may have been wasted" (Ga 4:11). "My children, I must go through the pain of giv-ing birth to you all over again, until Christ is formed in you" (Ga 4:19). Although the Corinthian community had many internal problems (divi-sions, immorality, idolatry, etc.; see 1 Co 1:10-13, 5:1-5, 10:14- 22), Paul, the affectionate missionary, loved them dearly: "You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all" (2 Co 3:2). "Keep a place for us in your hearts . As I have already told' you, you are in our hearts--together we live or together we die. I have the very greatest confidence in you, and I am so proud of you that in all our trouble I am filled with consolation and my joy is overflowing" (2 Co 7:2-4). His writings frequently "and spontaneously express his affection. Close Collaboration with Coworkers The apostle Paul, though a strong personality, was a team worker in the task of evangelization. He under-stood that all apostolic ministry is enhanced through collab-orative efforts. Some few examples show that Paul saw 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles great advantages in working together with other apos-tles. On his first missionary j6urney, Paul was accom-panied by Barnabas and Mark (Ac 13-14). Timothy and Silvanus were his trusted coworkers in Corinth and else-where (2 Co 1:19). Titus was his appointed deputy in dealing with difficulties in the Corinthian community (2 Co 8:23), Among other coworkers and fellow aposdes were Luke, Erastus, Aristarchus, and Tychicus. Paul considered teamwork and collaborative minis-try important for a variety of reasons. Apostles working in partnership presented a visible image of the church as community; it gave the people an example of common witness. A variety of apostles working for a common goal presented a more balanced picture of the church than Paul alone could have given. In addition, the gifts of vai'ious individuals were put at the service of gospel proclamation. Paul frequendy expressed his admiration and appre-ciation of his collaborators; he called Timothy his "coworker" (Rm 16:21) and tenderly describes him as "my dear and faithful son" (1 Co 4:17) whose "worth you know, how like a son with a father he has served with me in the work of the gospel" (Ph 2:22). Paul referred to Titus as "my brother" (2 Co 2:13) and "my partner and coworker" (2 Co 8:23). Even if disputes occasionally arose, Paul sought to promote communion in mission. Paul offers contemporary ministers a model of cooperative ministry. Commitment to Social Transformation Paul preached a gospel of freedom and liberation along with his manifest concern and love for the poor and the suffering. The gospel message of human dignity and equality, if embraced, leads to social transformation. Revie~v for Religious Paul firmly believed in the transforming power of the gospel message, and he proposed to his communities the model of Jesus Christ: "Remember how generous the Lord Jesus was: he was rich, but he became poor for your sake, to make you rich out of his poverty" (2 Co 8:9). And, for gospel credibility, Paul himself imitated Christ. Though he possessed citizenship in the Roman Empire, to show his social concern and commitment he chose the lot of ordinary working-class people and labored with his own hands for his livelihood (1 Th 2:9, 1 Co 4:12). Paul challenged many of the social, racial, religious, cultural, and economic barriers of his times. One brief example illustrates Paul's social message. In ancient times, there were three great blessings pronounced in the Jewish synagogue: "Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, . . . who hast not made me a Gentile, . . . who hast not made me a slave,., who hast not made me a woman!" Paul certainly had these barriers in mind when he expressed the new unity of those baptized in Christ: "There are no more distinctions between Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female, but all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). All, without dis-tinction, are to gather around the Eucharistic table, that great center of unity. Numerous additional examples of Paul's social con-sciousness readily come to mind. He struggled to alleviate the suffering of the Christian communities in Jerusalem and Judea during a severe famine (1 Co 16:1-4). Paul laid down ~a clear apostolic principle: "The only thing insisted on was that we should remember to help the poor, as indeed I was anxious to do" (Ga 2:10). Paul converted the runaway slave Onesimus and then demanded that he be accepted "no longer as a slave but something much bet-il, 27 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles ter than a slave, a beloved brother" (Phm 16). In a word, Paul preached authentic liberation: "When Christ freed us, he meant us to remain free" (Ga 5:1). 128 Effective, Exemplary Lifestyle The apostle Paul was always careful that .his per-sonal life would encourage and facilitate the spread of the gospel and never become counterproductive. The witness of a Cbristian life is the first and oj~en most effective proclamation of the gospel. When Paul speaks of imitation in his letters (he is not being arrogant), he believes that Christians can encourage one another through their Chrisdike words and deeds. An exemplary lifestyle is a very effective mode of proclamation. "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Co 11:1). Paul commends the Thessalonians because "you were led to become imita-tors of us and of the Lord" (1 Th 1:6). Paul, the exem-plary missioner, is seeking to draw people to Christ, not to himself, through his encouragement to imitate model Christians: "I have sent you Timothy. he will remind you of the way that I live in Christ" (1 Co 4:16). Several of the foregoing sections of this presenta-tion refer to key elements that coalesce to form Paul's life-witness as an apostle: Christocentric spirituality, voluntary vulnerability, innovative mission approaches, evangelical urgency, collaborative ministry, social engagement. To these elements one could add additional virtues, as Paul himself does in his lists of spiritual gifts (see 1 Co 12 & 13, Ga 5:22). In a theology of mission today, the holistic approach to mission that Paul's life shows would be termed "inte-gral evangelization." Paul consistendy strove to run the race successfully and fight the battle successfully (see 1 Co 9:24-27). He kept his eyes fixed on Christ; he told Revie~v for Religious the Philippians: "I am still running, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured me" (Ph 3:12). Total Reliance on God's Providence Paul had full confidence in God's everlasting love and fidelity; the guarantee of God's salvific love is Jesus Christ. Paul asks: "If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him?" (Rm 8:31-32). Mission always remains "God's project" and evangelizers seek to be God's faith-filled, humble instruments. Paul cooper-ated with God's grace so willingly and generously because he was firmly convinced that he was doing God's work. He asserts that he is only a servant of the gospel: "I did the planting, Apollos did the watering, but God made things grow. Neither the planter nor the waterer matters: only God, who makes things grow" (1 Co 3:6-7). Paul lived his apostolic life with great confidence and full trust in God, whom we can call "Abba" (Rm 8:15, Ga 4:6-7). His life wasfilled with many sufferings, hardships, and challenges; he even faced Spirit-given "roadblocks" in his missionary journeys (Ac 16:6-10). Fully convinced that his life and mission were dependent totally on God and the Spirit's guidance, Paul labored unceasingly, always ascribing any missionary success to God. "By the grace of God I am what I am . I worked harder than any of them--though it was not I, but the Paul labored unceasingly, always ascribing any missionary success to God. 129 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles grace of God that is with me" (1 .Co 15:10). Paul asserts: "The love of Christ urges us on" (2 Co 5:14), "I can do all things in him who strengthens me" (Ph 4:13), "The Spirit comes to help us in our weakness" (Rm 8:26). Paul was a man of faith. The dynamic aposde Paul is undoubtedly the great-est missionary of all time. Based on his mission experi-ence and profound theological insights, this presentation has proposed ten "mission principles," valid for Paul of Tarsus and for today's Pauls as well. Paul burned' with the flame of God's love that was enkindled in his heart at his conversion; that flame pervaded his whole existence, even to the final hour of his martyrdom in Rome. It is good for us to notice that, even in the face of all the afflictions and sufferings he endured, Paul was a fulfilled, joyful, Spirit-guided missioner. Paul over-flowed with the Good News, and spread God's saving love everywhere. His awareness of God's transforming grace given to him in abundant measure enabled him to joyfully proclaim Jesus as Lord (see 1 Co 15:10). Paul, exemplifying a genuinely missionary attitude, was filled with deep joy, not because of personal grati-fication or external success, but because he saw many communities accept the person of Jesus. He wrote to the Philippians: "My brothers and dear friends, do not give way but remain faithful in the Lord. I miss you very much, dear friends; you are my joy and my crown" (Ph 4:1). To the Thessalonians Paul wrote: "What do you think is our pride and our joy? You are; and you will be the crown of which we shall be proudest in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes; you are our pride and our joy" (1 Th 2:19-20). The Corinthians received this message from Paul: "I have the very great-est confidence in you, and I~ am so proud of you that in Review for Religious all our trouble I am filled with consolation and my joy is overflowing" (2 Co 7:4). Paul's exhortations need to be heard by the mission-ary church today: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice" (Ph 4:4). "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Th 5:16- 18). "My brothers, rejoice in the Lord" (Ph 3:1). "Shine in the world like bright stars, because you are offering it the word of life" (Ph 2:15-16). Pastors, missionaries, catechists, religious, all ministers of the church, imitate Paul, the joyful evangelizer. Selected Resources Alien, R. Missionary Methods: St. Paul's or Ours? Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1962. Grassi, J. The Secret of Paul the Apostle. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1978. Grassi, J. A World to Win. Maryknoll: Maryknoll Publications, 1965. Matera, E Strategies for Preaching Paul. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2001. Murphy-O'Connor, J. Jesus and Paul: Parallel Lives. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2007. Smyth, B. Pauk Mystic and Missionary. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1980. Srampickal, T. "The Secret of Paul's Missionary Success," Third Millennium 10 (2007): 41-66. Witherup, R. I01 Questions and Answers on Paul. New York: Paulist Press, 2003. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion What principle(s) of Paul, identified by Kroeger, most caught your attention for use in your own mission? If you were to list your own mission principles, how would they compare with Paul's? 131 68.2 2009 DANIEL P. HORAN A Franciscan Approach to Ministry 1321 During his final days St. Francis of Assisi reflected on how he had lived his life and spent God's time. To preserve his recollections of the birth of his new religious order and leave a record of his hopes for the future, he dictated his Testament to some of the fri-ars who were caring for him. In it he recalls his conver-sion to follow Christ and shares what it means to be a Franciscan: to live the gospel. Today Francis continues to inspire people in all parts of the world and every faith tradition. His Testament is the last of a series of writings by Francis that reveals his vision of ministry. Beyond what people often call "Franciscan spirituality" stands his vision of ministry in the church. It is a manner of living in the world, being in relationship with God, and serving our sisters and brothers. The year 2009 marks the eight-hundredth anniver-sary of the order's founding. As we celebrate this mile- Daniel P. Horan OFM has written on Franciscan theology, philosophy, and spirituality. His address is Holy Name College; 1650 St. Camillus Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. horandp@gmail.com Review for Religious stone, it is good to consider Francis's example and reflect on his vision, which serves as inspiration and guidance. In this article I will highlight five themes that emerge from Francis's writings to form a ministerial ethos that is particularly Franciscan. One does not need to be a Franciscan, a Poor Clare, or a secular Franciscan to adopt a Franciscan approach. Any pastoral minister can benefit from the insights of one of the greatest saints and reformers in Christian history. Everything Done in Humble Service When Francis started his work for God, having renounced his worldly possessions and aspirations, he did penance and followed the gospel as he felt led by God.~ Soon others sought to imitate his efforts and fol-low him in what Franciscan scholar Thadd~e Matura calls the "Franciscan project." This project, while ini-tially not the goal of Francis himself, quickly grew to include thousands of friars and hundreds of sisters,z What made them follow in the footsteps of this medi-eval man and renounce property and adhere to a life of obedience and chaste celibacy? One element of the Franciscan project that emerged early was radical adherence to subordinate positions in society. Francis's early followers saw the humility of a man who left behind the life of a wealthy merchant to live among lepers and outcasts. In his Earlier Rule, Francis had instructed them where among the social strata they should strive to live. He says, "Let no one be called 'prior,' but let everyone in general be called a lesser brother. Let one wash the feet of the other." Francis continued by enjoining his brothers to be "lesser ones" always "subject to all.''3 This spirit of humility is the foundation for all the 133 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ ~ Franciscan ~pproach to Ministry characteristics of a Franciscan ministry. Francis was less concerned about what someone did in the world than about how someone did it. Here we see his admiration for Christ's humility as central to his spirituality: to be Francis was less cbncerned about what someonedid in the world than how someone did: a Franciscan is to live the gospel by following in the footprints of Jesus Christ. Michael Blastic summarizes this well: "As Jesus turned toward those around him, so Francis and Clare in contemplation and com-passion incarnate the praxis of Jesus as they follow him in their world by turning to those around them.''4 From his incarnation and birth to his death on the cross, Jesus' life served as Francis's model for humble service. Perhaps the most succinct articulation of Francis's image of humble service is found in Admonition XIX. Here Francis says: Blessed is the servant who does not consider himself any better when he is praised and exalted by people than when he is considered worthless, simple, and looked down upon, for what a person is before God, that he is and no more. Woe to that religious who has been placed in a high position by others and [who] does not want to come down by his own will. Blessed is that servant who is not placed in a high position by his own will and always desires to be under the feet of others,s 134 Humility is a virtue of ministry, being of service to and among people, that Francis often wrote about. Besides being a reoccurring theme in his Admonitions, humility becomes a constitutive characteristic of the Franciscan way of life when it appears three times in his Review for Religious Later Rule. In chapter 3 we read, "I counsel, admonish, and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world; but let them be rrieek, peaceful, modest, gende, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming." Two chapters later in the same document, Francis exhorts his followers to always work humbly as servants of God and disciples of poverty. Toward the end of the Rule, Francis again reminds his followers that even amid persecution, hardship, and infirmity they are to have humility and patience while loving those who persecute them.6 Francis echoes the theme of humility at every opportunity because in this way Christ served his brothers and sisters and in this way he desired to serve. Thaddte Matura makes a keen observation about the importance of humility in Francis's way of life and in the movement he gave rise to. Matura believes that Francis was.well aware of the temptation, perhaps within him-self, for pastoral ministers to consider themselves better or above those whom they served.7 It is possible that his concern about friars judging others and seeking special privileges was rooted in his own experience as the son of a wealthy merchant, a well-off young man who was disgusted by lepers and people of lower social status. Regardless of Francis's initial motivation, we are the inheritors of a vision that inspires ministers to always put others before themselves.8 In a world that is fraught with self-centeredness and material accumulation, where even devoted ministers are tempted to seek personal reward, a humble approach to ministry remains prophetic. Relationship Takes Priority Francis's way of being-in-the-world followed the example of Jesus Christ. Michael Blastic insightfully 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ A Franciscan Approach to Ministry connects the divine humility that Francis recognized in the incarnation with God's outward movement toward humanity.9 It was in humility that God incarnate, Jesus Christ, entered into relationships with the people around him. All four Gospels tell of Jesus' encounters with many people: the marginalized, outcast, wealthy, powerful, average, violent, peaceful, and so on. Because he lived a perfectly humble existence among his sisters and brothers, Jesus could meet people as they were, rec-ognizing the inherent dignity of each human person. For Francis, this became a major component of his way of life and remains a Franciscan characteristic today. Vv'hile most of the preserved writings of Francis are letters, prayers, and admonitions or guidelines addressed to large numbers, we have one letter that was written to a particular minister. His identity remains anonymous, frustratingly so for many, but the anonymiW allows us to stand in his place and receive personally from Francis his wisdom concerning ministry, a touching wisdom straight from his heart. Francis is concerned about this friar's attitude and disposition, and he says: I wish to know in this way if you love the Lord and me, his servant and yours: that there is not any brother in the world who has sinned--however much he could have sinned--who, after he has looked into your eyes, would ever depart without your mercy, if he is looking for mercy.~° Mercy trumps justice. Relationship remains the pri-mary way for people to understand all their encoun-ters. Vghile this observation may appear obvious, the reason is that we are already familiar--if only subtly and indirecdy--with the Franciscan way of seeing ministry. This was not always the case. The Franciscan historian Joseph Chinnici describes the early Franciscan move- Review for Religious ment as a radically new form of "penitential human-ism." He applies this term to the Franciscan movement's effort to bring people together peacefully amid "social discord and violence." This approach to ministry puts relationship and com-munity above per-sonal journeys of faith and conversion. One's own conversion, if it is a Franciscan one, should lead toward others and away from one's own self.~ It ~ is for precisely this reason that Francis insisted that the friars be mendicants, not monks, and live with the whole world as their cloister, not limiting it to a monastery's four walls. Franciscan ministries are not simply good methods, skillful implementations of model practices. Rather, they are a project that seeks to unite those who are separated by the violence of social, political, and ecclesial dissent.12 To stress relationship as the primary approach to minis-try, Francis often used familial terms. In his Earlier Rule, he says, "Let each one love and care for his brother as a mother loves and cares for her son."13 In Francis's spirituality, such a familial understanding of relation-ship extended even beyon.d human relationships to include all of God's creation. In his most famous work, The Canticle of the Creatures, he addresses all elements as brother or sister. In an age of heightened ecological awareness, our relationship with the earth and the rest of creation can influence our ministry positively. We are called to minister to all with a deepened sense of our One's own conversion, if it is a Franciscan one, should lead toward others and away from one's own self. 137 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ ~l Franciscan ~pproacb to Minisl~ interdependence and relatedness as children of God and brothers and sisters of all God's creation. Avoid Attachment There is great wisdom in a mendicant model of life. In a life of detachment from personal property, pasto-ral ministers become less preoccupied with their status, their control, their "things." If a particular ministry does not "belong" to a particular minister, one becomes a curator, a caretaker, one who takes good care of some-thing of value not one's own. This contrasts with the oligarchic approach, a small group's limited vision often preventing a ministry's expansion or creativity. Francis was quite convinced that appropriation of anything, including one's work as a minister, would lead to other problems. His Earlier Rule is filled with admonitions and warnings about the danger of attachment. In chap-ter 7 he says, "Wherever the brothers may be, either in hermitages or other places, let them be careful not to make any place their own or contend with anyone for it." He goes on to say, "Guard yourselves against the anxieties of this world and the cares of this life," and summarizes by saying: "Let all the brothers strive to follow the humility and poverty of our Lord Jesus Christ, and let them remember that we should have nothing else in the whole world except as the Apostle says: "Having food and clothing, we are content with these" (1 Tm 6:8).14 While today most ministers, including professed Franciscan women and men, would find it difficult to live in this world strictly observing the instruction above, the key to Francis's insight is found in the word "strive." We understand this as a more perfect vision of an imperfect manner of living in this world. It is the Review for Religious model that pastoral ministers should have in their work, striving in humility and poverty to not appropriate the work as their own. Thy Will Be Done Naturally, the divestment of property and ownership of even one's ministry leads to the question: Then to whom does it belong? For Francis the answer is simple: M1 good things come from and belong to God. It is in the perfect prayer of Christians that we find the source and purpose of our ministerial endeavors, "Thy will be done." When our efforts in ministry become more about our will, our ambition, or our desires, then we have left the realm of ministry and entered some level of self-centeredness. Closely linked to Francis's view of attachment is his understanding that all ministry is the work of God for God. This understanding affirms and renews people's vocation to service. It directs the gaze of ministers from themselves back to God as the source of their inspiration to follow their ministerial vocation. Francis often wrote about God's will in connection with his own ministry and that of the Friars Minor. In his Letter to the Entire Order, Francis reminds his broth-ers of their vocation and its connection to God's will. He writes: "Give praise to him because he is good; exalt him by your deeds; for this reason he has sent you into the whole world: that you may bear witness to his voice in word and deed and bring everyone to know that there is no one who is all-powerful except him.'ns Matura highlights this thought of Francis when he says, "Anything good that we have or do, no matter how personal it is, comes to us from God, and we are only administrators of that good, as it were.'n6 In addition to the proper attribution of our gifts and vocation to 139 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ A Franciscan Approach to Ministry God, this thought frees us of the weighty burdens of self-sufficiency and responsibility. Unhampered by the pressure ministers frequendy put on themselves, we are free to be God's instruments, working in partnership with Christ and others. In this way we leave the world of "lone rangers" and enter the community of Christians working toward the kingdom. I'40 Pray without Ceasing A Franciscan approach to ministry must always flow from a life of prayer. Those who adopt this approach are not just people who pray, but people whose words and actions are also prayer. This lived prayer is con-stant openness to conversion, allowing God to enter and transform lives from worldly concern and triviality to authentic gospel living--in Christ's footsteps, as God's instruments of peace today. In a brief letter to St. Anthony of Padua, Francis responded to his request for permission to teach the-ology. This was a new initiative, for up to this time Franciscans had largely avoided academic ministry. Francis was cautious of higher education because of the tendency of the educated to think better of themselves, look down on others, and move away from the charac-teristics of ministry we have examined above. Francis knew of Anthony's gifts, however, and knew that many friars had asked for his instruction in theology. Francis told Anthony, "I am pleased that you teach .sacred the-ology to the brothers providing that, as is contained in the Rule, you 'do not extinguish the Spirit of prayer and devotion' during study of this kind.''17 Even a ministry as basic as training other friars for pastoral ministry was viewed as secondary to prayer and devotion. Francis writes in his Earlier Rule that those who Review for Religious come after him are to love the Lord God, who has given everyone everything, with their whole heart, soul, mind, strength, understanding, powers, effort, affection, feel-ing, desire, and wish. This is not to be an occasional experience or portion of time apart from the rest of life, but the modus operandi of ministry. Later in the same text Francis writes: Wherever we are, in every place, at every hour, at every time of the day, every day and continually, let all of us truly and humbly believe and hold in our heart and love, honor, adore, serve, praise and bless, glorify and exalt, magnify and give thanks to the Most High and Supreme Eternal God, Trinity and Unity.'s This is another echo of the Franciscan understanding that one's entire life should be given back to God as prayer. Such a life naturally nourishes a vocation to service and ministry. When one's actions are directed back to God with humil-ity, with relationship as the priority, without encumber-ing attachments, and with recognition of everything as God's work, then life is transformed into prayer. Ministry then is not a person's self-motivated effort or effectiveness, but the outpouring of God's gifts received prayerfully and gratefully and sharbd with others. Eight hundred years after the first Franciscan began to do ministry in the small town of Assisi, we find our-selves inspired by Francis's example to continue the mission of God's work in our world. Regardless of our particular manifestation of God's work, all pastoral min-isters can find renewed life and purpose by reflecting A Franciscan approach to ministry must always flow from a 'life of prayer. 141 68.2 2009 Horan * .4 Franciscan AIqn'oacb to Ministry on a Franciscan approach to ministry. Humility keeps us approachable and ready to give loving service. The priority we give to relationship brings us to places where we can best foster loving unity among our sisters and brothers and grateful respect for all of creation. Detachment helps to seek the right things, without being distracted by worldly concerns. Recalling that God is the source of all our gifts and our personal voca-tion puts our work into perspective, while bolstering our purpose to work hand in hand with God. Finally, more than just say prayers, we strive to live lives that are prayers, lives that help bring God's love to our world. Notes i Francis of Assisi, "The Testament," verses 1 and 14, in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, vol. 1, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William Short (New York: New City Press, 1999), pp. 124 & 125. Further citations of this first volume will be noted as FAED followed by page numbers. 2 Thaddde Matura, "Francis of Assisi and His Posterity Today," in Gospel Living: Francis of Assisi Yesterday and Today, ed. Elise Saggau (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1994), pp. 263-267. Matura compares Francis to Jesus while explaining similarities of the Franciscan orders and the church. While Francis is held as the founder and model for the three Franciscan orders (much as Jesus is for the church), he is not credited with intentionally founding a new movement in the proper sense (see p. 264). ~ Francis of Assisi, "The Earlier Rule," 6:3-4 and 7:2, in FAED, p. 68. 4 Michael Blastic, "Contemplation and Compassion: A Franciscan Ministerial Spirituality," in Spirit and Life, vol. 7, ed. Anthony Carrozzo, Vincent Cushing, and Kenneth Himes (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1997), p. 172. s Francis, "Admonition 19: A Humble Servant of God," in FAED, p. 135. 6 Francis, "The Later Rule," 3:10-11 (emphasis added), 5:4, and 10:7-10, in FAED, pp. 102-105. r Thadd~e Matura, Francis of Assisi: The Message in His Writings, Review for Religious trans. Paul Barrett (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1997), p. 167. s St. Bonaventure, the Franciscan saint and doctor of the church, later wrote about the importance of humility in the evangelical life, beginning his treatise Disputed Questions on Evangelical Perfection with that topic. See Works of St. Bonaventure, vol. 13, trans. Thomas Reist and Robert Karris (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 2008). 9 Blastic, "Contemplation and Compassion," p. 153. 10Francis, "A Letter to a Minister," verse 9, in FAED, p. 97. 11 Joseph Chinnici, "Penitential Humanism: Rereading the Sources to Develop a Franciscan Urban Spirituality," in Franciscans in Urban Ministry, ed. Roberta McKelvie (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 2002), pp. 119-122. ~2 See Chinnici, "Penitential Humanism," p. 123. 13 Francis, "Earlier Rule," 9:1 I, in FAED, p. 71. ~4' Francis, "Earlier Rule," 7:13, 8:2, and 9:1, in F~IED, pp. 69-70. is Francis, "A Letter to the Entire Order," verses 8-9, in FAED, p. 117. 16 Matura, Francis ofAssisi, p. 132. 17 Francis, "A Letter to Brother Anthony of Padua," verse 2, in FAED, p. 107. 18 Francis, "Earlier Rule," 23:8 and 23:11, in FAED, pp. 84 & 85. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion 1. What model or approach do I currently use in my pastoral ministry? 2. In what ways do Francis's insights speak to me today? 3. What characteristics of a Franciscan approach to ministry do I live particularly well? Where could I strive to improve? 68.2 2009 DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Discipleship and Walking by Faith God never deceives us. When we entrust our life to him and allow him to direct us, he ensures that all goes well. We may not know where he is lead-ing us. We only see the present, and nothing beyond it. Indeed, even the present is sometimes not clear, and in any case it reaches beyond itself into the future. The present invites to us to keep moving despite perplexity. Here our faith is our strength. Faith propels us forward. So long as we know that God is with us, we can afford to take the next step. We need not be apprehensive. We can be certain that we shall reach our destination even if we have to move slowly and sometimes with some frustradon. Without faith we do not see that God is leading us. If we step out into the unknown future at his bidding, it is likely that we will persevere to the end (see Heb 11). Damian C. Ilodigwe last wrote for us in early 2008. He is a priest and lecturer in philosophy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171; Secretariat P.O.; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks2000@ yahoo.com Review for Religious We should trust God at each step, even when we do not know what lies ahead. He shows us his plan piecemeal. An aspect of faith is trust. We can think here of chil-dren and mothers. Usually young children are wholly dependent on their mother. She gives instruction, and the child wonders about it. But this wondering does not prevent the child from carrying out the mother's bidding. He may ask questions, of course, but unless he is simply seeking some clarification he will not get very far. He will not be permitted to ignore or resist what his mother asks him to do. Usually children know, for their own good, when they had better obey. Usually they carry out their mother's instruction even when they do not fully understand. What is true of the relation between children and their mother is true of our relationship with God. Like little children, we need to give God our utter trust (Lk 11:5-13; 18:1-8). Because our faith tells us that God acts in our best interest, we can afford to follow his bidding no matter the inconveniences we feel to be associated with it. A childlike simplicity in our relationship with God is an index of vibrant faith and of maturity in this relationship (Lk 12:22-31). The' Case of Abraham In the life of Abraham we find an example of this childlike faith. He is ready to do the Lord's bidding even when this involves a great deal of sacrifice. Many instances in his life illustrate his utter commitment to God. Consider the divine request to leave his country for another land: "Leave your country, your family, and your father's house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing. I will 68.2 2009 llodig'we ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith In the life of abraham we find an exa ple ff bless those who bless you; I will curse those who slight you; all the tribes on earth shall bless themselves by you" (Gn 12:1-2). How could God ask Abraham to do a thing like this?1 The demand appears extravagant and even ridiculous. Is it reasonable to leave his native place, where all his friends are? He is established here. He has security here. To leave means leaving good memories and property behind and beginning all over again. As the saying goes, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. It is foolish to abandon what has proved itself over the years without a good clear reason. That rea-son would be that the change will certainly make things better. But, for Abraham, the future is a clouded certainty. All that is certain is that he should leave and that he will be shown another land. Regarding the particulars of the promised land, he knows nothing. He is told, though, that from him will come a great nation. That promise appears less attractive than it might because of its general vagueness. Yet at another level it provides a certain motivation because it comes from God, from Abraham's faith in God. It is only faith that can quickly overcome the disenchantment pr0~oked by lack of information about this promised land. Abraham is certainly a man of faith. For, in spite of the obvious per-plexities associated with this directive, he. takes the bull by the horns. He understands that it is the Lord speak-ing and that he knows what he is doing. Consequently he sets out as the Lord has told him to do. Scripture tells us that Abraham is seventy-five years old when he Review for Religious leaves Haran. He takes his wife, Sarai, and the people they.have acquired in Haran. Their journey takes them to Canaan (Gn 12:4-5). Abram's age of seventy-five is significant, emphasizing the great inconvenience of this movement. He is not a young man eager to be off on his own. So in a sense it is a blind journey. God guides him. As is always the case, the Lord does not ask us to do something and then leave us to our own design. He does not leave us on our own. He provides for us one step at a time. The entire picture can never be available to us all at once. As Abram journeys, he comes to Shechem's Oak of Moreh, in Canaan. The Lord appears to him and says he will give this land to his descendants. Abram builds an altar there. He proceeds to the hill country east of Bethel and then to the Negeb (Gn 12:7-9). Although Abram has stepped out into the unknown, he is never alone. He knows in faith that the Lord is with him through all the stages of his journey. And so he is our father in faith (Heb 11:8). He is wholly sub-missive to God, and God does not fail him. Abraham becomes the father' of a multitude of nations. The Challenges of Discipleship and Our Contemporary Situation At this juncture we may ask what we can learn from Abraham's experience. We can learn much regarding the challenges of discipleship. Our life, too, is a journey, a journey of faith towards God's kingdom. God calls each of us out of our various backgrounds to pursue a special life journey, a pilgrimage to a distant destination. The fundamental truth about this is that God is with us all the time, even when we do not take cognizance of him. His presence empowers us to be what he wants us to be. '147 68.2 2009 Ilodig~ve ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith Without evidence we are likely to feel discdnnected, His providence sustains us and guides every.aspect of our life. We need to let this truth have an impact on the way we live our life each day. We need to entrust ourselves completely to that providence. "For those who --~ love God, all things work together unto good." We may not understand just how they fit together now or will fit together in the end, but we cannot doubt that they do fit together. God's love, acting as a redemptive principle, inte-grates every aspect of our experience, bringing every-thing into God's ultimate plan for us all. The practical implication of this truth, then, is that we must learn to walk by faith rather than by sight.2 There is a world of difference' between walking by faith and walking by sight. When we walk by mere sight, we are all the time looking for visible, tangible, measur-able evidence of what we should do or should have done. For many purposes and many aspects of reality, there is such evidence, but for other purposes there is none. We may feel that without that kind of evidence there is no reality. If so, we are likely to feel disconnected. We are likely to feel we are living within limited horizons, likely to have a vague feeling that we are missing something. Not enjoying that feeling, we give oursel~es a warrant to deny there is any reality behind our vague feeling. We decide not to let ourselves be affected by what we claim is unreality. We refuse to be open to it. On the other hand, our admittedly limited knowl-edge even of the physical world should persuade us to see and affirm that the fullness of reality is far broader 148] Review for Religious than, say, the empirical data we have of the astrophysi-cal universe or the jungles of Brazil. We may lack the resources to fully penetrate such real worlds, and the world of faith as well, but we do not have reason to deny their reality and the impact they can and should have upon us.3 We need not deny spiritual reality even though we lack tangible and visible data that serve as empirical evi-dence. Spirituality's reality is accessible to faith. Faith transcends the evidence of the empirical sciences. When we walk by faith, we find ourselves in some sense at home in all of reality. The experience of Abram challenges us. Because he walked by faith, he was able to see far beyond the lim-ited reality of his time and place. Ready to journey with the Lord, he stepped out into the unknown that in some way he could actually see. In time he realized much of the promise he had. received. Abram's faith was his sav-ing grace. In our dealing with the Lord, some tension remains between the way of faith and the way of mere sight. . Sometimes we may walk ahead of the Lord or far behind him, and thus miss some of what we would have received from him. When our faith is stronger, we are better able to synchronize our mind and heart with God. We see better what he sees; we dream better the dream that he dreams for us; we see a road even when our ordinary sight sees no road. In short, our world of possibilities becomes larger; we live our lives more abundantly. Thomas's Encounter with the Risen Lord Consider Thomas. He did not believe when the other apostles told him they had seen the Lord. He insisted that unless he touched Jesus' wounds he would 149 68.2 2009 llodigwe ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith 1501 not believe (Jn 20:24-25). His predicament is under-standable. He cannot transcend the inclination to walk by sight. He demands empirical evidence in a matter that requires faith. The reality of the risen Lord is not accessible to, cannot be contained in, the limited world of empirical evidence. This becomes clear to Thomas when the Lord grants his demand for evidence. "Put your finger here, and look at my hands; then stretch out your hand and put it in my side. Stop your doubting and believe." Thomas says, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus says to him, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe!" On 20:26-29). Thomas wants empirical evidence in order to believe, and he is granted the rare privilege of touching and seeing. But the Lord does not fail to make clear that this privilege is not really necessary. Indeed, it is argu-able that it is not the empirical evidence that generates Thomas's confession. Thomas could have touched the Lord and still not believed. There is another factor, the factor of grace. One cannot come into the presence of the risen Lord without being positively affected. That is what seems to have happened in Thomas's case. It is clear that what really matters is faith, not sight: "Happy are those who believe without seeing me." Without empirical evidence they believe, and this is what makes them blessed. The experience of the risen Lord is paradoxically a reward for their faith. It is their faith, not empirical evidence, that opens them to the reality of the risen Lord. Faith is a gift. through and through. God's gift, the presence of God, is received and perceived through faith. If we turn again to the experience of Abraham, we note that he avoids the tension between the way Review for Religious of faith and the way of sight. He does not ask for evi-dence as Thomas does. He is ready to step out into the unknown simply because he believes it is the Lord speaking. Faith sustains him on his travel. Faith brings him to the promised land. But before this ever comes to pass in time, faith has already enabled him to realize the promised land spiritually. The claim of faith is certainly one we cannot afford to ignore in our everyday struggle. We need to keep in mind the distinction between the way of faith and the way of sight. So as to realize our full destiny in the Lord, we must cultivate the habit of walking by faith rather than by sight, bringing faith into every aspect of our existence. It will enrich our vision of life and increase our ability to deal appropriately with all that occurs in our day-to-day living. In carefully fostered faith, the unthinkable becomes thinkable, the impossible becomes possible, and our entire life will be lighted by the glory of God. Notes I Even more extravagant is the later demand that he sacrifice Isaac, the child of promise. Here, too, Abraham's response marks him as a model of faith. See Genesis 22. z See Ralph C. Martin, Called to Holiness (Mumbai: St Pauls, 2001), pp. 101-117. 3 Faith and reason complement each other. Indeed, as Pope John Paul I! famously remarked, "Faith and Reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth" (Fides et ratio, §7). 151 68.2 2009 VIRGINIA M. HERBERS Reparation and the Sacred Heart: A New Interpretation renewing religious traditions The conciliar decree Perfectae caritatis was pro-mulgated in 1965 to guide renewal "in order that the great value of a life consecrated by the profession of the counsels and its necessary mission today may yield greater good to the church" (PC §1). Thirty years later John Paul II affirmed that "the consecrated life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God" (Vita consecrata, §3). In fidelity to the council's call and in response to the pope's call for authentic interpretation of founding charisms, the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus have in recent years striven to understand Virginia M. Herbers ASCJ is vocation director of the Aposdes of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and director of Queen of Apostles Spirituality Center; 800 Montebello Camp Road; Imperial, Missouri 63052. svhascj@yahoo.com Revie~ for Religious authentically the role and relevance of reparation within the Sacred Heart devotion. This effort has led me to believe that, just as religious consecration still has significance in the world today, so too does reparation. I affirm Karl Rahner's claim in 1966 that devotion to the Sacred Heart is not a dated, old-fashioned piety, but rather is quite relevant today. He later insisted that this devotion is indispensable "since the future of the church was decided by the love of the heart of Jesus in dying and depends on the final decision of Our own hearts."' I think Rahner is correct. I would add that consecrated life itself can be understood as a lived interpretation of Sacred Heart devotion, and that the religious profession of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart demonstrates the proper understanding of repa-ration in the Sacred Heart devotion. This community's charism illuminates a unique aspect of God's love, pro-viding for the entire church a renewed understanding of our baptismal vocation (see PC §1). To appreciate this charism of reparation, a brief look at the religious vows and the Sacred Heart devotion will provide helpful background. Let us take them in turn. The Evangelical Counsels Vita consecrata asserts that religious vows are not an initiative of the individual religious, but a response of the individual to God's call: "The experience of this gracious love of God is so deep and so powerful that the person called senses the need to respond by unconditionally dedi-cating his or her life to God" (VC §17). The profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience is the consecrated person's response of love to the One who loves her infinitely. Hearing the call and responding to God's love is not unique to those in religious life; it is implicit in 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart baptismal consecration. Profession of the evangelical counsels does not set religious apart from the body of the faithful as holier, closer to God, or more perfect. It is not a consecration differing in essence from baptismal consecration. Rather, it is rooted in baptism. It is an intensification of baptismal consecration for mission; it is a specification of the baptismal call.2 As such, it is a sign to all the baptized of what and who we are called to become as followers of Christ and members of his Body. "Religious life 'clearly, strikingly, astonishingly' ¯ . . leads the church to see what the whole church is called to by baptism, to see it clearly and strikingly in a public and communal embodiment that helps people toward realization.''3 Profession of the evangelical counsels is thus a rec-ognition by religious of the fullness of God's love for all, and a response to that love with the gift of their entire lives. Through the vows of chastity, poverty, and obe-dience, religious center their lives on the "God-quest" and proclaim that "I commit my whole self, everything and forever, to the undying love that has claimed me for the transformation of the world." Profession of vows is thus "a unitary and unifying act, a solemn, formal, and public act, by which a person takes her whole life into her hands and freely disposes of it in self-gift to Christ and his Body within the congregation."4 Sacred Heart Devotion Devotion to the Sacred Heart has traditionally been understood as an icon of God's love for humanity, devel-oping direcdy from incarnational theology,s Humanity recognizes God's love in the love of the God-man, Jesus Christ, as shown specifically in his heart. The incarna-tion allows human beings to experience God's love in Review for Religious tangible human ways. The heart of Jesus reveals the heart of God, embodied and enfieshed. This capac-ity has implications for all who follow Christ, for "the only Son of God, in becoming incarnate, takes on a human heart [and] we are called to share in this love and to receive through the Holy Spirit this extraordinary capacity to love.''6 Devotion to the Sacred Heart, then, is not devo-tion to an abstract symbol, but devotion to the per-son of Jesus and his love for each human being. The incarnation gives humanity access to what was formerly inacces-sible, God's very self, during Jesus' earthly life and now in his Mystical Body, the church. In the heart of Jesus, God calls us to "become what we receive"7 and to incarnate God's love ourselves as members of Christ's Mystical Body. What, then, does the heart of Jesus teach us about the incarnate love of God? Devotion to the Sacred Heart encompasses four characteristics of God's love: (1) Christ's heart shows us that the incarnate love of God is a continuing, dynamic reality, not an abstract theory or historical event; the heart of God is enfleshed in the body of Jesus and continues to beat in his Body, the church. (2) Christ's heart is a heart wherein two natures--human and divine-~coexist in perfect harmony. (3) Christ's heart is on fire with love for all humanity, both in general and in particular. (4) Christ's heart is an Devotion to the Sacred Heart has traditionally been understood as an icon of God's love for humanity. 68.2 2009 Herbers ¯ Reparation and the Sacred Heart open, broken heart--opened by the soldier's lance after the sacrifice of his human life, and broken by human sin, weakness, and error. The Religious Vows: Returning Love for Love Given the understanding that religious vows are a response to love and a sign for all the faithful of our common call to share in Christ's mission, and given the understanding that Sacred Heart devotion is (a) an ongoing dynamic expression of God's incarnate love, (b) exemplified in the love of Jesus' heart, which is in perfect union with the Father and the Spirit, (c) con-tinually on fire with love for us, and (d) still wounded by humanity's rejection of divine love even while revealing through the open wound the ultimate gift of his life, we now turn to the modern relevance of the religious vows as a distinct and poignant means of living Sacred Heart devotion. The consecrated religious professes vows as a return of love for Love, as a response from her heart to the outpouring~of God's love upon her. The very act of con-secrated profession can be interpreted as a profound act of Sacred Heart devotion, as attested by John Paul II: "Through the consecration of the religious vows, you desire, through the love of total giving, to fill your souls and your bodies with the spirit of sacrifice . In this way the likeness of that love which in the heart of Christ is both redemptive and spousal is imprinted on the religious profession" (Redemptionis donum, §8). Acknowledging and accepting the love of God and responding "in kind" are not enough, however. The Sacred Heart of God incarnate is not a mere image to be worshiped or just a pious practice to be encouraged. The encyclical on Sacred Heart devotion, Haurietis Review for Religious aquas, quotes Thomas Aquinas on this point: "Religious worship is not paid to images, considered in themselves, as things; but according as they are representations lead-ing to God incarnate. The approach which is made to the image as such does not stop there, but continues towards that which is represented.''8 In a similar way, professing vows in the church as a response to God's love commits religious to loving service of the church and, not stopping there, to loving service of the incar-nate Word of God. Our acceptance of God's love in baptism transforms us; in religious profession this baptismal transformation shapes our likeness to Christ, compelling us to return his love by following his example of ministering self-lessly to all those in need. Pope Benedict XVI expresses this directly: "When we practice this devotion, not only do we recognize God's love with gratitude but we con-tinue to open ourselves to this love so that our lives are ever more closely patterned upon it . The experience of God's love should be lived by men and women as a 'calling' to which they must respond. Fixing our gaze on the Lord. helps us to become more attentive to the suffering and needs of others.''9 Interior devotion is thus manifested in ministerial outreach. The three vows constitute a unique expression of Sacred Heart devotion, corresponding to specific char-acteristics of incarnate love. The heart of Jesus is a heart both human and divine, the heart of a man and the heart of God. Within one heart, two natures coex-ist in a mysterious unity that leaves each distinct yet undivided. Jesus' human heart beats in rhythm with the heart of God; his human will is perfectly synchronized with the will of God. The desire of the man corresponds completely with the desire of God for the man. 157 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and tbe Sacred Heart In this lies the kernel of religious obedience--to have our hearts beat in time with the heart of God. Consecrated persons who vow obedience strive to desire what God desires, to will what God wills, to attune their hearts to the heart of God. "To want the same thing, and to reject the same thing, was recognizeff by antiq-uity as the authentic content of love: the one becomes similar to the other, and this leads to a community of will and thought,m° Genuine obedience is not confor-mity to an external authority nor submission to a will foreign to our own. The vow of obedience "in its deep-est roots is a dedication to freedom, not to subjection or servitude . True freedom is to be found in union with the will of God."1' The vow of chastity expresses devotion to the heart of Christ by expressing his love for all people. Just as the Sacred Heart is "a heart on fire," so by vowing chastity do religious enkindle the fire of love in their own heart. Sandra Schneiders insists'that the vow of chastity "must be based on a deep religious experience of being loved by God in Jesus and an experienced per-sonaL fulfillment in returning that love." She adds that this vow "leads the person toward personal transforma-tion in love and allows the person to participate mean-ingfully in the emergence of a new, whole, and loving world characterized by equality, responsible intimacy, and mutuality."12 Clelia Merloni, the founder of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart, describes the "fire of love" kindled by the apostle's vow of chastity as holy zeal: "You see, daugh-ters, wherever the fire of divine love is, it cannot remain hidden or idle, but at once it manifests itself as the liv-ing flame of a holy zeal . Remember, daughters, that zeal must be active, untiring, gentle, and prudent: zeal Reuiew for Religio~.s does not inflame the heart without manifesting itself in works."13 By vowing lives of consecrated celibacy, reli-gious perpetually submit to the consuming fire Of God's love, which in turn impels them to share that love with everyone she encounters in an inclusive, not exclusive, way. Professing chastity enables religious to fan into flame a love that embraces all, recognizing in each face the face of God. As Benedict xvI wrote in Deus caritas est (§ 15), "The concept of 'neighbor' is now universal-ized, yet it remains concrete. Despite .being extended to all mankind, it is not reduced to a generic, abstract, and undemanding expression of love, but calls for my own practical commitment in the here and now." The vow of chastity calls us to embrace each while embracing all, to love particularly w~ithout loving restrictively, to love universally and specifically. Pierre Teilhard de Chardifi described the source .and the consequence of this type of loving as fire: "Under the symbol of the Sacred Heart, the divine assumed for me the form, the strength, and the properties of an energy, of a fire . Through its power to become universal, this fire proved able to invade and impregnate with love the whole atmosphere of the world in which I lived.''~4 By professing poverty, religious make yet another return of love for Love, mirroring the woundedness of Christ's heart. John Paul II says that "on Golgotha Jesus' heart was pierced by a lance as a sign of his total self-giving, of that sacrificial and saving love with which he 'loved us to the end'" On 13:1).15 By accepting death at the hands, of humanity, the God-man sacrificed all for love. "From the infinite power proper to God, the heart of Christ did not retain anything except the unarmed power of the love that forgives . In the heart of Christ are encountered divine riches and human poverty."~6 68.2 2009 Herbers ¯ Reparation and the Sacred Heart In the profession of poverty, devotion to the broken heart of Christ is made tangible also through responding to the suffering ofhis heart in the poor of .today's~worl~d. 160 This kenosis, this. self-emptying, is the expression of Love to which the vow of poverty responds. In accept-ing death Christ accepted all and gave all. In professing poverty religious do likewise--accepting all that is given them from the hand of the Father and giving all in a return of love for Love. This is devotion to the open heart of Christ. In the profession of poverty, devotion to the broken heart of Christ is made tangible also through respond-ing to the suffering of his heart in the poor of today's world. For vowed reli-gious, devotion to the Sacred Heart includes recognition that his heart remains broken, suffering as people continue to betray and reject love, to ignore and neglect the hurt-ing, to strike first. The world's physical, emo-tional, psychological, and mental pain con-tinually shows the heart of Jesus suffering in his Body. Clelia Merloni insisted that "The heart of Jesus, disguised as this particular sick person, calls you to a mission of charity, since the sick make up the very body of Jesus.''17 Clelia exhorts her sister apostles to recognize that where there is sickness, pain, or suffering, there is the open, broken heart of Christ. The profession and living of poverty expresses solidarity with all those who are wounded in and by society, and expresses union with Christ's broken heart suffering today. By professing evangelical poverty, con- Review for Religious secrated religious commit themselves "to eliminating structures of oppression and to promoting projects of solidarity for the benefit of the poor" (VC §89). Only as the poor can we hope to alleviate the suffering of the poor.~8 Through their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence, consecrated religious express their love with the entirety of their lives. This threefold consecration uni-fies all religious communities. Their distinctive charisms are demonstrated by their various ways of expressing this consecration. The founder of my congregation, Clelia Merloni, was entrusted with a particular charism within Sacred Heart devotion--a charism to be apostles of the Sacred Heart. Her apostles were to be characterized by zeal and charity, but more importantly by one aspect of Sacred Heart devotion: reparation. She pleads with her apostles to make their lives relevant to the church's mission in the world: "Our congregation needs subjects who are strong and robust in virtue, not pious statues!''19 Sacred Heart devotion, for Clelia and her apostles, always implies responding to the living heart of Christ through lives of reparation. Zeal and charity are insufficient for those professing vows as Apostles of the Sacred Heart. Only when we are motivated by a spirit of reparation can we be seen clearly as apostles of the Sacred Heart devo-tion. What, then, is the nature, meaning, and relevance of the reparation this congregation fosters? A New Interpretation of Reparation Theologically reparation has often been mistakenly equated with atonement and expiation. Atonement is "an act of divine love that effects a new state of things, the peaceful relationship between God and man. Man is reconciled to God. atonement is effected through the 161 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart blood of the cross . man is placed in a new relation to God.''2° Atonement, therefore, is effected once and for all in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Christ's death and resurrection made humanity "at-one" with God, reconciling a broken relationship, correcting and reversing the effects, of human sinfulness, thus mak-ing humanity's "atonement" not only unnecessary but impossible. Expiation is closely related to. atonement in that it is appeasement by sacrifice, specifically the sac-rifice of Jesus' death, which appeased God's justice and "remove[d] the cause of the sinner's alienation from God in. order to restore him to holiness and divine favor.''2' Taken to their logical ends, these notions of atone-ment and expiation .seem to perceive "the love of God given us in Christ Jesus" as either correction of a rela-tionship gone awry or Christ's willing acceptance of the penalty of death due us. In this context, the practice of reparation seems to be about "repairing" broken-ness, "atoning for" sinfulness, and "making up" for wrongdoing as we model our life on Jesus Christ. This is the vision of reparation in Pius XI's 1928 encycli-cal Miserentissimus Redemptor (§18): "Whosoever of the faithful have piously pondered on all these things must needs be inflamed with the charity of Christ in his agony and make a more vehement endeavor to expi-ate their own faults and those of others, to repair the honor of Christ, and to promote the eternal salvation of souls." This "atoning" and "expiative" sense speaks of a need for humanity to repent, convert, and wor-ship, but nowhere does it speak of the invitation given to humanity to love in the face of brokenness, that the heart of God may be loved and not rejected. I propose that, in the context of Sacred Heart devotion, reparation speaks direcdy of this invitation: "The focus of God's Review for Religious ¯ forgiveness in Christ is less on a word that is spoken to assuage guilt and more on a transformation of relation-ships-- with God and with other human beings."22 As seen above, religious consecration is a response of love prompted by the recognition and humble accep-tance of the unconditional, sacrificial love of God. Each of the vows has been shown to uniquely manifest, in the light of devotion to the Sacred Heart, a particular aspect of our loving response. Reparation, as a dis-tinctive response of love, is a particular expression of Sacred Heart devotion. It is a response of love to the broken heart of Christ, as when we see someone we love (and also Someone) hurting, broken, bleeding, and in pain, and want to--need to, are impelled t0--respond in manners worthy of love. William Temple, archbishop of Canterbury during World War II, claimed that the motive for reparation is that we not "go on wounding one who accepts our wounds like that; we are filled with fear, not the old craven fear of punishment, but the fear of wounding the tenderest of all hearts.''23 Reparation does not necessar-ily seek to repair the wrongdoing (for we may not be responsible for it), but seeks to respond to the broken heart of our loved One by offering concrete, tangible acts of love. This authentic healing power of reparation '~"The focus of God's forgiveness in Christ is less on a word that is spoken to assuage guilt .and more on a transformation of relationships-with God andwith othe~r human beings." 163 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart 164 was understood by Aquinas: "When one. is in pain, it is natural that the sympathy of a friend should afford con-solation., because, when a man's friends console him, he sees that he is loved by them, and this affords him pleasure. Consequently, since every pleasure assuages sorrow, it follows that sorrow is mitigated by a sympa-thizing friend" (ST I-II.38.3). To extend this idea to how human acts of love serve as loving reparation to Christ, John Paul II said in another place: "In the heart of Christ the human heart comes., to unite filial love for God with love for the neighbor. In this way--and this is the true meaning of the reparation asked for by the heart of the Savior--on the ruins heaped up by hatred and violence can be built the civilization of love so greatly desired, the kingdom of the heart of Christ.''24 For the Apostles of. the Sacred Heart, it is imperative that they understand rightly their mission in the church and their ministry in the world. Their witness of repara-tive love can show all the faithful what their response to the brokenness of our world must be. Reparation, far from being an obsolete relic, is an essential component of Clelia Merloni's charism, and a unique way for her apostles to live their vows of poverty, chastity, and obe-dience. Experiencing Jesus as God's incarnate love, they are called to respond as incarnate love to his open heart still broken in the woundedness of his loved ones. In respond-ing, they are not merely practicing their own personal spirituality; they are engaging in their ministry. As Pius XII said in Haurietis aquas (§112), "In show-ing devotion to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus, the external acts of piety have not the first or most impor-tant place; nor is its essence to be found primarily in the benefits to be obtained." Rather, reparation must be a dynamic response of love, reaching out to the broken- Review for Religious ness of humanity--at any given moment, in any given circumstance. "The practical good that emerges in the event [of reparative love] is seen not only in the inward realm of personal and spiritual values, but in the trans-formation of the material order through which the val-ues are expressed.''25 Living her congregation's motto, "Caritas Christi urget nos!" (2 Co 5:14), consumed by the love of God given her in Christ Jesus, an apostle the Sacred Heart "returns love for Love" by the gift of her life of vowed chastity and reaches out to ev.eryone in selfless service. By her vowed obedience she matches her heartbeat to the heart of God. By their vowed poverty she is free to give her all to the broken hearts around her. She accepts humbly the gifts she receives from the incarnate, inflamed, obedient, and open heart of Jesus and returns them as her gift to his Body, the church. The reparative value of these gifts lies in its heal-ing power for the broken heart of Christ in the church and in the world. Reparation from this n~w perspective is most assuredly, then, not merely valuable for those among the faithful who may be attracted to it as a pious practice, but a vital mission entrusted to each mem-ber of the church. Reparative love is the love of God poured out through us, incarnate in the members of Christ's Body, embodied in real hands and real hearts. Reparative love speaks a word of selflessness to a world broken by hatred and individualism. It lives a life of generosity in a world broken by selfishness and fear. It breathes a promise of forgiveness for a world broken by resentment and injustice and gives a hand of compassion to a world broken by suspicion and greed. Reparation is anything but old-fashioned piety entrenched in sen-timentalism or self-derogation. Rightly understood in the brokenness of our contemporary experience, repa- 165 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart 166. ration is the tender answer of hearts on fire, yearning to express themselves boldly, so that brokenness and woundedness may always and only be answered with all-consuming love, centered in God, reaching out to every one of God's beloved people. Notes I Quoted in Annice Callahan, Karl Rahner's Spirituality of the Pierced Heart (Lanham, Maryland: University Press of America, 1985), pp. 108, 110-111. 2 See Patricia E Walter, "Religious Life in Church Documents," Review for Religious 51, no. 4 (July-August 1992), and Nadine Foley, "The Nature and Future of Religious Life," Origins 19, no. 13 (1989): 212. 3 Michael Himes, "Returning to Our Ancestral Lands," Review for Religious 59, no. 1 (January-February 2000): 18. 4 Sandra Schneiders, Selling All (New York: Paulist Press, 2001), pp. 108, 114. s It is important to be aware of this rich history as we examine Sacred Heart devotion from a modern perspective. For a more com-prehensive examination of the history of the devotion, see Timothy O'Donnell's Heart of the Redeemer (Manassas, Virginia: Trinity Communications, 1989) and Joseph Stierli's Heart of the Saviour: A Symposium on Devotion to the Sacred Heart (New York: Herder and Herder, 1958). 6john Paul II, "Letter to Bishop Raymond Seguy, Bishop of Autun, Chalon, and Macon, June 22, 1990," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, ed. Carl J. Moell SJ (New York: Crossroad, 2004), p. 210. 7 Augustine, Sermons on the New Testament 7(7). s Thomas Aquinas, ST 1/-1/.81.3 ad 3. See Pius XII, Haurietis aquas (1956), §103. 9 Benedict xvI, letter on the fiftieth anniversary of Haurietis aquas, 15 May 2006. 10 Benedict XVI, Deus caritas est (2005), §17. '~ Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), p. 109. ,2 Schneiders, New Wineskins, pp. 105, 106. ~3 Clelia Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, ed. Pierpaula de Farias (Rome: privately printed, 1992), pp. 167, t73. Review for Religious ,4 Quoted in Christopher E Mooney, Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery of Christ (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday Image, 1968), pp. 28-29. 15 John Paul II, "Homily during Sacred Heart devotions and beati-fication of Father Stefan Wincenty Frelichowski, at the Aviation Club in Torun, June 7, 1999," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, p. 112. 16 John Paul II, "Homily at the Polyclinic of the Agostino Gemelli University Hospital in Rome, June 28, 1984," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, p. 47. 17 Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, p. 167. ,s James Alison poignandy elucidates this idea with his concept of the "intelligence of the victim." See Knowing Jesus (London: Ashford Colour Press, 1998). 19 Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, p. 334. 20 Kenneth E Dougherty, "Atonement," in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed. (Detroit: Gale, 2003), vol. 1, p. 837. 21 Lucien Richard, "Expiation (in Theology)," in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed., vol. 5, p. 565. 22 L. Gregory Jones, "The Craft of Forgiveness," Theology Today 50, no. 3 (October 1993): 356. 23 William Temple, The Faith and Modern Thought, quoted in Leonard Hodgson, The Doctrine of Atonement (New York: Scribners, 1951), p. 80. 24 See the letter of John Paul II to Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach sJ on the Canonization of Blessed Claude la Colombi~re SJ, in UOsservatore Romano, English edition, 27 October 1986, and referred to by Benedict xvI (see note 9 above). 25 G.W.C. Thomas, "Reparation: The Sevenfold Pattern of Redemption," Church Quarterly Review 158, no. 327 (April-June 1957): 165. ,167 68.2 2009 JAMES H. SCHIMELPFENING Being Heard, Being Healed: Learning from the Quaker Tradition We cannot change the world by a new plan, project, or idea. We cannot even change other people by our convictions, stories, advice, and proposals, but we can offer a space where people are encouraged to disarm themselves, lay side their occupations and preoccupa-tions, and listen with attention and care to the voices speaking in their own center. --Henri Nouwen1 168 Community is a word that is tossed around a lot, but is hard to define. My own religious order and those who share in the Marianist tradition embrace community as a constitutive part of our mission and identity, and thus we engage in countless conversations discerning its meaning, the place it has in our lives, and how it is to be an instrument of mission. After thirty-five years of religious life and after living in communities on four continents, my experience of community is all over the board. Sometimes I am most grateful for it, but other times it has been quite the opposite. James H. Schimelpfening SM lives at Marianist Community; Meyer Hall; 4435 East Patterson Road; Dayton, Ohio 45430. Review for Religious Recently I experienced community in an utterly refreshing and transformative way. I participated in a series of six seasonal retreats based on the Quaker tradition and the work of Parker Palmer. The Center for Courage and Renewal, partially funded by Lilly Endowment, offered these retreats for clergy and con-gregational leaders) The approximately twenty partici-pants represented a variety Of religious denominations, including a young Jewish woman and myself, the only Catholic. That in itself made the retreats interesting and delightful. These retreats, spread over eighteen months, opened up and stretched my idea and sense of community. I want to share with you something of the enriching, grace-filled, contemplative experience that the retreats were for me. Welcoming the True Self One of the principal resources for the retreats was Parker Palmer's A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey toward an Undivided Life. He portrays community as "one that knows how to welcome the soul"--or true self--and how to hear its voice within oneself. He refers to this kind of community as a circle of trust, a revealing name. Such a community, he writes, allows us to reach in towards our wholeness, out towards the world's need, while living at "the intersection of the two.''3 This intersection is sometimes a daunting place to be. One needs to be with others who, in the right sort of way, support and encourage each other in their moving inward and outward. Often, at least in my experience of community, issues and concerns are discussed, debated, and at times argued; then votes are taken, and there are winners and losers. Tensions, often subtle but barely hidden, may 169 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed remain. As a result, people keep trying to fix each other or straighten the others out. Advising and rectifying implies that one knows what is good for others if only they would acknowledge it. Community harmony and peace become elusive, and passive-aggressive behavior comes to the fore. Life in community has taught me that violence has many forms that give pain and raise suspicion and result in protective walls. Often persons are diminished and given less respect in favor of group-think or the institution itself.4 Life in community some-times fails to lead persons to wholeness or holiness, and when such failings occur the mission too falters. Touchstones In the series of retreats that I was part of, there was a quite different style of community and way of being present to one another and ultimately to oneself. I have experienced it also in other religious and church com-munities, but only rarely, and even more rarely as an intentional way of being together. In each retreat of this series, one of the first things we did was review the Circle of Trust Touchstones, the guidelines for all of our time together, not only when we were "sitting in the circle." We would: ¯ presume, extend, and receive welcome. ¯ be present as fully as possible. ¯ offer by invitation, not demand. ¯ speak our truth in ways that respect other people's ¯ not fix, save, advise, or set each other straight. ¯ learn to respond with honest, open questions. ¯ turn to wonder when the going got tough. ¯ attend to our own inner teacher. ¯ trus~t.and learn from and in the silence. ¯ observe deep confidentiality. ¯ know that it is possible to leave the circle with Review for Religious whatever you needed and that the seeds planted could and would keep growing. To live these touchstones intentionally takes work and demands attention, but something good happens and a different environment is created. These touchstones were practical and crucial for our community because we were so diverse. We were men and women, ordained and nonordained, Christian and Jewish, various races and ages, formed in different religious traditions with different doctrines and creeds, coming from all over the country, and having various personali-ties and committed relationships. It was only by living these touchstones that something new and deep could be born, so that we could move beyond differences that would normally keep us separate. Living these touchstones introduced ways of being together that led to deeper respect for persons and enduring bonds of friendship and trust. It is all too easy to focus on what is different and what is perceived to be "wrong," instead of expe-riencing what is right. This environment made it pos-sible to speak and listen in a gender and more attentive manner. It is all too easy tofocus on what is different and what is perceived to be "wrong," instead ,of experiencing what is right. Circles of Trust Parker Palmer calls such a community a circle of trust. The name, in my experience, is descriptive. We would sit in an unbroken circle with no one coming first or being 171 68.2 2009 Schimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed 172j last, no beginning or end.In the center of the circle would be a small table with a candle and flowers that would serenely hold our attention, and hold us together like the hub of a wheel. When speaking we would "speak to the circle," not across the circle as groups may do and thereby tend to debate and break down the sense of the whole, of community. That happened to us once, and the feel of the group changed and became charged with something that we recognized as not helpful, not what we desired. We returned to speaking to the circle, not across it, and the environment healed. "Speaking to the circle" is speaking from one's own inner self to the center of the circle, where all that is said is held attentively and respectfully. There is no speaking from one ego to another, nor is it about try-ing to impress or persuade. It is simply about expressing oneself, a kind of sharing that is less stressful and much more peaceful,s Trust is what constitutes the circle; without trust there is no circle. Trust makes the space safe for sharing one's truth without fear of judgment or criticism. This trust grows deeper over time. As I share these reflections, I realize that a circle of trust can seem like avoidance of conflict, blind acceptance, lack of discernment, or some such idea. It might even seem "new age" and shallow. My experience, however, is just the opposite. A circle of trust and living the touchstones allow for something deep to emerge and grow and bear fruit. Circles of trust allow more truths to come to light and authentic relationships to form. It is interesting and even important to note that Quakers do not avoid diffi-cult situations, but instead are present to them differently. That is why historically Quakers have often been present where thorny social issues like justice, peacemaking, and reconciliation are being pondered and evaluated. Review for Religious A circle of trust forms a community that allows per-sons to be attentive to their inner self, what we often refer to as one's true self. This true self can surface in an enviroriment that is encouraging, one that is respectful, silent, attentive, and caring. As Parker Palmer points out, a circle of trust is focused on an inward journey and invisible yet very real pow-ers. The purpose of the circle is to support each person's inner journey. A circle of trust lives the paradox of "being alone together," of being present to one another as a "community of solitudes."6 Solitude and community, rightly understood, go together; they are not opposed. In truth, everyone needs both the interior intimacy that comes from solitude and the otherness that comes from life in community. The purpose of this community is to allow the true self, the self in God, to present itself. Unfortunately, however, too many "communities" do not provide this environment; instead, they scare the true self away. It withdraws into the shadows because it does not feel safe to come forward. We wear masks and do not share what is most truly our own. Too often we do not even know what is most true within us. A circle of trust community is made of people who know how to sit quietly and wait for the soul, the true self, to show its face. The relationships within it are "not pushy, but patient; not confrontational, but compassionate; they are filled, not with expectations and demands, but with abiding faith in the reality of the inner teacher and in each person's capacity to learn from it." In my experience, it is atypical to find a community that has people who have the capacity for this kind of presence to each other. "The people who help us grow toward true self," Parker Palmer writes, "offer uncondi-tional love. They don't judge or try to change us. They 173 68.2 2009 Schimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed do offer and hold hopeful expectancy, creating the space that safeguards and encourages the inner journey."7 This is an incredible gift to offer one another, and within this form of community we find, I believe, the greatest potential for growth and transformation. What most people desire is to be heard and honored. As one fellow retreatant commented, "To be heard is to be healed!" Too often in community and in conver-sation we do not feel we have been genuinely heard or respected, and this only deepens wounds and pro- ~_ duces greater alienation. In the circle of trust, deep ¯ .~.L listening to one another, as well as to oneself, is paramount and happens rather naturally. Listening deeply is a nonviolent act; it is an amazing gift to offer. Patient listening, and forming circles of trust according to the touchstones, moves against the .grain of our habitual culture--both secular, and religious. Circles of trust are about listen-ing, expectant listening. This kind of listening only goes deeper with time and is all about God. God is the one who makes such listening possible and who gives us the hunger and thirst for it. God beckons, and we soon dis-cover that all that is good comes from the hand of God. Ultimately, God is the goal of our listening, for in so doing we can discern and do the work of God.s The content is simple, and its purpose is to open us to deeper listening and reflection. We would use poetry, stories, songs, or reflection. Metaphor plays an important part in this kind of sharing because images, allegories, allow us to approach from a slant, not head- What most people desire is to be heardand honoredl , Review for Religious on; they bring into play much more than the intellect. Metaphor has a way of surprising, even seducing the heart and soul, while tricking the mind into taking another look and discovering mystery in the process. We all belong to numerous kinds of groups and com-munities, each offering something unique and respond-ing to different needs. Circles of trust, however, generate within me a longing for such a community within the church and in religious life. Such a community, it seems to me, creates an environment that encourages and sup-ports deep growth and leads to holiness. Circles of trust might not seem to be as useful or as practical and func-tional as other groups might be, and so one considers circles of trust idealistic, utopian, unrealistic, even for religious or church communities. I would disagree. If we strove towards such deep trust and respect, many of the functional things we now squabble about would sim-ply disappear, and other practical details of life would take care of themselves. If they had to be dealt with, conversation and decision making about them would be quite different. We too easily forget that even our busi-ness meetings have a spiritual component and, hope-fully, necessitate a listening for truth.9 The experience and outcome would be a lot healthier, and life together would be more amiable, more authentic, and even more reflective of the gospel and Christian living. Circles of trust and community are not about numbers, but about the quality of the space created and shared. As Parker Palmer notes in A Hidden Wholeness, we live divided lives. We live alienated from our true selves, and end up feeling depressed, aimless, anxious, or angry. We feel the pain of being alienated from our own truth. We yearn to be centered,1° and a circle of trust creates the space where centering can happen and foster wholeness. 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed A Spiritual Experience Although not always described this way explicitly, circles of trust are a spiritual experience, and the retreats I participated in were, beyond doubt, retreats. They were days of communing with God, with the Spirit of God very much alive and present within us and among us. The retreats were distinctly reflective and contempla-tive, with time for being alone and time for sharing with another or with the entire circle. The environment of the retreat center itself was ideal,ll The Tibetan chime would draw us into silence and into the circle. I found it easy to recall that, where two or three are gathered in God's name, God is truly present. The entire environ-ment was charged with the holiness of God. It was an experience of the shekinah of God. Clearness Committees Those familiar with the Quaker tradition know that forming Clearness Committees is an important part of their life. Each of our retreats set aside time for the work of Clearness Committees. I found myself refer-ring to them as Quaker discernment, a way of listening for truth, truth that is .not imposed from outside, but arises from within. This was one of the most important experiences of discernment that I have ever engaged in, most especially with a group, and was for me a highlight of our time together. This discernment is not done fir us, as sometimes occurs. Instead, in a circle of trust, in a safe, reflective space, we are engaged in our own dis-cernment, in our own way and time, with the encourag-ing and challenging presence of people who really and truly care for us)2 Clearness Committees help the focus person (who has asked for its help)13 to walk an inner iourney. They do so by their presence, asking open and Review for Religious honest questions, not interpreting or offering advice, not judging or fixing, but treating the person carefully as he or she looks and listens deeply. There is no con-flict of agendas or egos; there is only one focus person with one agenda. Just as the circles of trust offer a new way of conceiv-ing community, so the Clearness Committees offer a new way of helping persons make decisions about the direction of their life. I found here an incredible respect for the person and belief in the action of God. Instead of decisions, especially the more personal decisions, being made by others, a Clearness Committee allows for a form of listening and obedience that holds promise of greater life for the person and also, in the long run, for others and for ministry. Clearness Committees were a primary factor in draw-ing me to the seasonal retreats, for I was doing discern-ment in my own life. A series of circumstances along with much that was moving within my own heart and soul had made me wonder where the Spirit might be leading me. I needed and desired some form of guidance, and I needed to enter more deeply into a process of discernment, but I did not want someone or a group telling me what to do. I was desperately seeking someone or a group willing to walk with me, providing the safe place where I could be open and vulnerable in my discerning reflection. In my own religious community this did not seem possible. My superiors were likely to approach my questions as an administrative concern and decision, but did not seem able to walk with me in the way I needed. The seasonal retreats, however, with the circles of trust and the blessed opportunity to be the focus person of a Clearness Committee drew me like a bee to nectar. I asked for a Clearness Committee to sit with me not 177 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed Such d cision ,making; demands great patienee, and a strongcom i m n once but twice. The experience was powerful because of the safe, caring environment and the confidentiality, the love and faith, that were present. The immediate experi-ence was powerful, but I was surprised and delighted by how it continued to reveal truths in the following days, weeks, and months. Did I receive an immediate answer? No. Were there "aha" moments? More later, than at the time. Was clarity received? Yes, but much more came long after the experience was over. Such decision making demands great patience and a strong commitment to the process: it can take time for the truth to come to light. Quakers are good at waiting and supporting one another in this invest-ment of time and pres-ence, doing so in the belief that a truth can and will come to light and, when it does, can be embraced with one's whole self. One lets the work of God pro-ceed and reveal itself. This "Quaker discernment" takes as long as is needed. It is exceedingly countercul-rural in our quick-fix, fast-food, I-want-it-now culture. If, as religious communities, church, and church min-istries, we could learn to discern in this way, I believe that both community life and ministry would be a good deal richer. Going Home As a high introvert when I first began attending the retreats, I was uncertain about it, but, having read A Hidden Wholeness the year before, I was curious enough Review for Religious to give it a whirl and see what would happen. After the first couple of retreats, I felt completely at home, and, although I never knew what the experience of any particular retreat would be, I soon learned to trust the Spirit, believing that whatever would happen would be grace--and I was never disappointed. It seemed that each retreat was its own "peak" experience that helped me go deeper and deeper into my soul while being sup-portive of others doing the same. Many retreats, even when powerful, are one-shot experiences, but this series of retreats, organized accord-ing to the seasons of the year, allowed for sacred remem-bering of what happened previously and delving into it once again from a slightly different slant, so that further truth could be discovered. On top of everything else, this was a wonderful ecumenical and interfaith setting that opened many wonderful doors. The most difficult part of each retreat was returning home to community and ministry. Although I would return deeply renewed, I saw that my recent experience of community would not be present back home. Every three months, as the next retreat drew near, I would look forward to it with great anticipation. My challenge now is to live the expe-rience and find ways to invite others into these circles of trust so that they too may have the joy and benefit of entering them that I have had. As I noted earlier, there are many different forms of community and many different definitions of commu-nity. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, "Community is not an ideal; it is people."14 1 believe that what the Quaker tradition and Parker Palmer offer is worth exploring and experiencing as a very practical way of forming and being community. "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another" (Jn 13:35). r179 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed Notes ' As quoted in Mark Nepo, The Exquisite Risk: Daring to Live An Authentic Life (New York: Three Rivers Press, 2005). z Center for Courage and Renewal, www.couragerenewal.org. 3 Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: TbeJourney toward an Undivided Life (San Francisco: Jossey Bass, 2004), pp. 22, 25.4 The word person is used intentionally; not individual. The distinction is critical. 5 Palmer, Hidden I~oleness, pp. 118-119. 6 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, p. 54. 7 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, pp. 59, 60. 8 Michael Waida, Expectant Listening: Finding God's Thread of Guidance (Wallingford, Pennsylvania: Pendle Hill ~ublicationsi 2007), p. 16. 9 Wajda, Expectant Listening, p. 22. ,0 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, pp. 45-46. " Santa Sabina Center, San Rafael, California. 12 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, p. 27. ~3 The focus person asks for Clearness Committee assistance regard-ing a question or issue that he or she is struggling with and seeking light about. ,4 Jean Vanier, From Brokenness to Community (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 35. 180] Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion What has been your own occasion of experiencing the kind of "words of trust" that animate community life? Have you or has your community developed your own special ways of deepening the trust and faith-sharing integral to religious community living? How would you describe it and how often is it used? Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Religious Habits Reconsidered Years ago, when we were just beginning to wear secular dress, a sister friend remarked to me that she never noticed what anyone else was wearing. The remark struck me because I thought she was missing an important commu-nication from others. But, upon reflection later, it seemed likely that she meant that everyone deserves our respect, whether clad in rags or riches, in style or out--a conviction that I share. Also, I thought, she ,was probably indi-cating she is less sensate than I. As the years passed, however, with religious habits less and less in ,evidence, I have occa-sionally thought of investigating the topic more deeply. Comments such as these persist: "If you wore a habit, you'd get more vocations" and "Real sisters wear habits." They imply that our Doris Gottemoeller RSM last wrote .for us in 2005. Her address remains Catholic Healthcare Partners; 615 Elsinore Place; Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. 1181 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller * Religious Habits Reconsidered transition in dress is symbolic of an abandonment of val-ues or identity. It is hard at times not to feel defensive. No doubt there is scholarly literature available about the significance of dress through the ages. Dress as an indicator of social class and status, the change from toga and tunic to trousers and dresses, the influence of climate and occupation, and the development of new fabrics and methods of production--all of this has prob-ably been studied. I have not consulted any of it. First, I want simply to recall and describe this period of change. Then I will reflect on the significance of a religious habit for women and of the many decisions to forgo it. I will close with some questions for reflection and dialogue. Some readers may assume that there is noth-ing to be learned from the decisions made so long ago, but I think that some reflection can bear fruit for our present and future. What a Habit Is Not A religious habit is not a costume, a dress that tempo-rarily provides a new identity, either for dramatic effect or for fun. Costumes are worn in stage productions and at Halloween parties. A disguise is another form of temporary identity, one intended to deceive people. A vestment is worn to temporarily designate that one is performing a sacred function. Nor is a religious habit a uniform. Commentators ask, "Vv'hy don't you wear a uniform like airline atten-dants, nurses, and police personnel?" These uniforms signify professional qualification and a certain authority. In given situations their wearers are entided to respect because of their official function. Note, though, that uniforms often admit of variations. The attendants on a plane may be wearing slacks, shorts, or skirts, with or Review for Religious without coordinating jackets or sweaters. They are all in uniform, but they choose different forms of it. Nursing uniforms, too, admit of variation, even within the same department or on the same floor of a hospital. In contrast to any of these options, the religious habit was a permanent and unchanging garb. The cloth-ing ceremony at the beginning of novitiate signified a new identity, which one intended eventually to make lifelong. As we dressed each morning, we said prayers specific to each item of clothing. For the habit itself we prayed, "Clothe my soul, 0 Lord, with the nuptial - - robe of charity that I may carry it pure and undefiled before Thy judgment seat," The prayer for donning the cincture was "0 Lord Jesus Christ, who became obedi-ent unto death, even the death of the cross, grant me the true spirit of religious obedience." In my experience there were no optional choices around color or design or style, very litde adaptation to climate or occupation. Permission to wear a white habit in nursing care and in the tropics is the only possibility I can recall. The clothing ceremony at the beginning of novitiate sig nified a new identity. The Mandate to Change Before the mandate of Vatican Council II to update, our habit was the only dress we wore. In my experi-ence each sister had two habits, a heavy pleated wool serge version for Sundays and feast days and an every-day version in a lighter fabric. Neither was really wash-able. We wore a knee-length black veil, inner and wide outer sleeves, a leather cincture to which was attached a 183 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Habits Reconsidered 841 long rosary, and a starched white cotton coif and guimpe which we changed on Sunday and at midweek. Heavy black stockings and black oxfords completed the ensem-ble. Going out in winter required a shawl or a long black cloak with a heavy black veil pinned over the house veil. This habit was worn 365 days of the year, from rising in the morning to retiring at day's end, in the convent, the classroom, or the hospital, at work or recreation, at home or abroad. The habit was everywhere recognizable and, when clean and pressed, somewhat graceful and attractive. It was also economical: the daily habit lasted several years and the Sunday habit for many years. Thus it was a witness to poverty. The design had remained essentially the same for over 130 years. But, despite its familiarity and attractiveness, the habit was unsanitary, unsafe, and ill-suited to the climate in many places. It was also impractical for many occupations such as housework or recreational sports. Furthermore, all of the parts had to be sewn by hand. Keeping perspi-ration from the starched linens which encircled the face in hot weather was another challenge. Considerations such as these prompted the conciliar directive: "Habits should be simple and modest, at once poor and becoming. They should meet the requirements of health and be suited to the circumstances of time and place as well as to the services required by those who wear them. Habits of men and women which do not correspond to those norms are to be changed" (Perfectae caritatis § 17). This directive prompted the first genera-tion of modified or updated habits. Chapters reviewed designs, and each congregation chose one which seemed to embody the desired improvements. For the Sisters of.Mercy of the Union, this transition occurred in the summer of 1968. The new habit was mid-calf in length Review for Religious and could be purchased from a manufacturer's catalogue in an array of sizes. A veil which came just below the shoulders was attached to a white cap which left some hair exposed in front. The habit was washable, and nothing was starched. From Modified Habit to Secular Dress Why didn't this updated habit, which responded to the conciliar mandate, last? Here the story becomes more complex. As the decades passed, most congrega-tions loosened or eliminated their requirements that everyone wear a habit, even for professional or formal occasions, I would suggest that the following are some of the f~ctors that led to this evolution. First, the change of dress coincided with other changes that brought us into new settings and new cir-cumstances. Permission to travel without a companion and to drive an auto-mobile were two sig-nificant changes. No longer~did we have to depend on employ-ees or volunteer lay-persons to chauffeur us to professional meetings, doctors' appointments, the library or grocery, or a museum, movie, or sporting event. Freedom from the need for a sister companion encouraged individual choices about where to go or what to do with one's discretionary time. Some outings were with only lay friends or relatives. Individuals did not necessarily want to stand out in such settings. The introduction of personal budgets was another change Why .didn't this updated habit, which re.sponded to the conciliar mandate, last? 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Habits Reconsidered that facilitated variation in dress, as individuals could choose where they wished to shop and what they wished to buy. Another limit to the success of updated habits was the matter of style. As long as we were in 18th- or 19th-century garb, there was no relationship to any contem-porary style. But an adaptation to "circumstances of time and place" suggests at least some relationship to what other people are wearing. Hemlines are a case in point. Should they be adjusted upward and downward with changing styles? What about the size and proportions of the individual sister? The traditional habit swathed her in so many yards of fabric that her figure was effectively concealed, but the modified habit was more flattering to some than to others. Does everyone have to wear the same color? Do you wear the same thing for scrubbing the kitchen floor, lecturing before a class, attending a board meeting, and playing tennis on Saturday after-noon? Considerations such as these meant that individ-uals almost immediately began modifying the modified habit and also acquiring supplementary wardrobes for occasions when a habit was deemed inappropriate. The question of a veil comes in for special consid-eration. Questions of comfort, ideology, and style inter-mingled. In the old habit, when no hair was visible, we usually cut it very short for comfort. As soon as some hair was visible, it had to be styled. And not every style looked good peeping out from a veil. Keeping a veil anchored on one's head was sometimes a challenge. More significandy, the veil signified for some a femi-nine subservience to men. (Around that time, women gave up wearing hats and veils in church, and nurses stopped wearing caps with their uniforms.) Some argued that the veil was intended to symbolize virginity. Well, Review for Religious if it did, then shouldn't male religious who take a vow of celibacy also wear them? As we began to experiment with lay dress, some continued to wear the veil for a time, leading to some unfortunate combinations of flowered dresses topped off with veils. (Interestingly, the appearance of Islamic women clad in burqas and veils in Western cities was still too rare to invite a com-parison.) Another circumstance that promoted individual choice of dress was the movement toward individual-ism overall in Western culture. This is a phenomenon that would require books to chronicle and critique both its lights and shadows, but the point here is khat we were not immune from its influence. Religious life is essentially a communitarian commitment, but in many ways--not only choice of dress--it has embraced, or at least permitted, a wider expression of personal choice. While we were experimenting with dress, we were also exploring new ministries, new living arrangements, and new prayer styles. Much of this was a healthy reaction to practices which had encouraged immaturity, but some of it has diminished our corporate identity and witness. Nevertheless, choosing how to present oneself on a particular occasion or in a particular setting can be a revelation of one's personal judgment and self-iden-tification. Looking Back on the Changes in Dress The first thing that can be said is that the changes described here proceeded without a lot of self-reflection. We lacked the critical distance necessary to analyze the consequences of our choices or their interaction with other choices we were making. At times we hesitated to raise the issue in community for fear of seeming

Issue 59.1 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Vowed Life Featur~ Religious Mission ~ Finding God Living Celibat,ely Balkans Report JANUARY FEBRUARY 2_000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER I Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to bollness by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; V~rashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such pertnission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. restrictions, in a world of hate and division, of civilian bombings and life-snuffing concentration camps, this iournal spoke about dialogue and intercommunication, about ministries of love and service, about vocations to align oneself with God's peaceable king-dom and to pray for that kingdom to come. I am thankful for the gift this journal has been to the church, to religious life, and to the spiritual-life developments of our times. I thank God for raising up and inspiring the founding editors to begin the dialogue--something not common in the 1940s--across the different spiritual heritages which are represented by Catholic religious congregations and which continue to feed the spiritual life of church members everywhere. I am grateful for all the writers who have shared their insights, raised questions, instructed in prayer and in ecclesial history, and inspired our ministerial efforts. For all that has been---Thanks! With this first issue of the year 2000 a new-look cover greets our readers, along with a revision of our secondary title. For the previous eight years, because of the creative contribution of the advisory board and the staff, the journal had this shorthand way of stating its content: Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living. After more discussion with current board members and staff, we now state our content even more simply: Living Our Catholic Legacies. Our mission statement, too, has found new expression for things our journal continues to have in view (see inside front cover). This is our way of saying Yes as we look to the future. While we say "To all that shall be--Yes," I have some con-cern about a shrinking subscriber list. We know that the primary readership--women and men religious--continues to grow less in number in the United States and in European countries. I would not like to say Yes to a declining subscription number without encouraging all of you tostir up your own efforts to increase our readers, hopefully even our subscribers, among your own congre-gation members and associate members if you are a religious, and among friends and colleagues who share spiritual companionship and ministry with you. Review for Religious remains a unique journal in the English-speaking world for our continuing educa-tion, formation, and inspiration in living the rich Catholic legacies that form our church spirituality. I hope that you, our readers, share in our appreciation and enthusiasm. "To all that shall be-- Yes!" allows plenty of room for our best efforts. David L. Fleming SJ Januaty-Februa~y 2000 MICHAEL HIMES Returning to Our Ancestral Lands feature I am a little more daunted than I usually am because you are vicars for religious and you bring me in, a dioce-san priest, to talk to you. I can plead two things. One, I lived, during my happy years at the University of Notre Dame, at Moreau Seminary in the company and with the hospitality of the Congregation of Holy Cross and came to have the greatest affection and respect for them. I am now living and working with the Society of Jesus at Boston College and have the greatest respect for the Society of Jesus. My brother, and sometime col-league, is a Franciscan. And so, though I am not a reli-gious, I shared a bedroom for years with a religious, my brother Ken. Besides these attachments to and connections with religious communities, I plead that your having a pas-sionate outside observer may be useful. That is what I come to you as--a concerned, passionate, outside Michael J. Himes, a priest of the Diocese of Brooklyn and formerly on the faculties of the University of Notre Dame and of the Seminary of the hnmaculate Conception (Huntington, New York), is currently a professor of theol-ogy at Boston College. He presented this paper (here some-what revised) in March 1999 at the 32nd assembly of the National Conference of Vicars for Religious, in whose 1999 Proceedings it was originally published. His address is Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02467. Review for Religio us observer of religious life in the church. I am going to talk with you from the perspective of history. My field is the history of Christianity, with a particular interest in ecclesiology. I am going to be looking at both the history of religious life in the church and at its connection with the mission of the church at large. I took my title from Leviticus. The passage in Leviticus on the jubilee year says to mark the jubilee year by returning to our ancestral lands. In Leviticus the reason for doing this is appar-ently that, because every clan, every group, in Israel's history is of importance in God's plan and in the working out of the covenant, no family, no clan, should be allowed to disappear from the land of Israel. And so, if a clan or family gave up its land, within fifty years it would get it back again. I suggest that some of those same themes are true of religious life in the church today. There are too many important, vital, necessary experiences, images, sources of wisdom which have grown up in religious life in the Western church over the course of fifteen centuries to allow them to be lost to the life of the church. We need to go back periodically and reclaim those ances-tral lands, To do that, I want to discuss three issues--and so there will be three parts. Part One: I want to say something about the nature and pur-pose of religious life in the Catholic tradition, but I want to say it from a somewhat unusual perspective. I will explain what that is in just a moment. Part Two: I am going to offer you a thumbnail history--and it is very thumbnail history--of the development of religious life in the Western church. There is quite a distinct history to the development of religious life in the Eastern church, but up to the present moment in the Western church, I suggest, there have been three central moments in the development of religious life. We may be at the end of number three and the start of number four. In Part Three I am going to make some observations about what can be done to reclaim ancestral lands. How do you reclaim values without trying to resuscitate forms? How do you reclaim the value without saying we have got to replicate the history? Nature and Purpose of Vowed Life Let me say something about the nature and purpose of reli-gious life--of vowed life within the Christian community and espe- January-February 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands cially within the Catholic tradition--from a somewhat unusual perspective. That perspective I take from an immensely productive, distinguished, and influential figure in Protestant theology and philosophy of religion at the beginning of the century that is now ending--a man named Ernst Troeltsch, who died back in 1923. Before the First World War, Troeltsch produced his masterpiece, a thick volume titled The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches. The tide may be misleading to us. You may say to yourself, "All this is well and good, but I do not see what bearing it has on the topic." Let me explain. Just when you least expect it, over the hill will come the topic. Just at the point that you have given up hope of ever hearing anything relevant to your interest, lo and behold, it will make its appearance. Today, when we hear a title like The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches, we might expect that it is going to be about what we have come to call social teaching, namely, the teaching of the Christian community about the nature of political and eco-nomic justice within society. That is not what Troeltsch meant by his title. By the Christian churches' social teaching, Troeltsch meant what they taught about tl~eir own natures as societies. I mean, here you have different communities, different societies of Christians that have come together and organized themselves in very different ways. How did these various Christian societies explain themselves? What is their teaching about their own nature as a society? To trace the development of how different church communities and traditions in the history of the Christian tradition have structured themselves as churches, as communities, Troeltsch approached it in a very interesting and important way. He bor-rowed an idea from a colleague of his at Heidelberg, where he was teaching at the time: one of the great fathers that you may very well know if you have an interest in sociology, Max Weber. Troeltsch borrowed from him the notion of an ideal type. Weber's ideal type means this: You explicate different ways, different models of how a community could be organized with-out reference to any concrete existing community. Then you look at the existing communities--at the actual communities as you find them--and ask: Which of these communities is like type one? Which is like type two? Which is like three? He found this to be a particularly fruitful way of getting people" to look at com-munities and raise questions about them which they might not ordinarily raise. Review for Religious Well, Troeltsch took that notion of an ideal type and sug-gested two ideal types as ways of digging in, as tools for analyzing how different Christian communities have understood their own role, how they structured themselves. Those two ideal types he refers to as church and sect. Sect, let me emphasize, is for Troeltsch by no means a bad word. For us today in America it has come to have all sorts of bad connotations. He means none of those connotations. By sect, Troeltsch means a community of people who come together in fidelity to their under-standing of the gospel, who are united first of all by a powerful, dramatic, and deeply personal experience of conver-sion. So, for Troeltsch, one of the hall-marks of a sect type of community is (1) that all of its members are people who have personally experienced some deep and often strikingly dramatic con-version experience. You have to experi-ence being born again into Christ. You must personally "accept Jesus as your Savior," to use language that is familiar to us from some sect types of community in this country. Another hallmark is (2) that these communities see themselves as peculiarly and specially commissioned communities. There is a vibrant sense of mission. There is a kind of urgency about the fact that you have been called, you have been chosen, you have been commissioned to perform an extremely important work in the name of the gospel. So there is a striking and urgent sense of mis-sion in a sect community. Often a sect community (3) sees itself in terms of being over against the larger community. You are the people who have been called upon; you have been set up as a city on a hilltop, as a light for all the world. You are commissioned in a way that is not true of the community-at-large. You may be called to serve them, but you are different in some way from that larger community, and there should be a clear difference between you and that larger community. The sect community (4) is frequently radical in its vision of what needs to be done in the larger community. That is, it takes positions which the larger community may find to be too diffi-cult, too dangerous, too uncomfortable, too impractical. The Different societies of Christians that have come together and organized themselves in very different ways. Janual~-FebruatTy 2000 --10A Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands smaller sect community can advocate radical reform and radical movement. The problem with the sect community, however, as Troeltsch points out, is that it seldom survives beyond the second or at most third generation because the first generation (who have had this striking, personal experience) cannot guarantee that their chil-dren's or their grandchildren's generation is going to have that same striking experience. Very often, then, the sect begins to evap-orate or split up in various ways. My favorite image for that may be seen in one of Flannery O'Connor's letters. She has a wonderful description of why she liked to travel in the south on local trains, trains that made every stop. She said you could always, back in the 1940s and 1950s, see such interesting things. She says: "Why, you stop at one little town and you look out the window and there's a white clapboard church. And out in front of the church is a sign that says 'First Church of Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior of All Humanity, Coming Again in Glory to Save All People Who are Faithful to Him and Moved by the Holy Spirit.' The train goes five miles down and stops at the next little town, and there is a white clapboard church with a sign in front of it that says, 'Church of Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior of the World and of All Humanity, Coming Again in Glory to Save the Living and the Dead and MI Those Who are Faithful to the Gospel and Motivated by the Holy Spirit, Reformed.'" And she said, "You knew there was a history here somewhere even though you could not tell quite what it was." There's a tendency for sect communities to splinter or to evaporate. By contrast to the sect community, the church-style community is a community that (1) sees itself as incorporating all sorts of peo-ple into the Christian community. It does not claim that all of its members are equally, highly, or deeply motivated--depending on your point of view. It does not claim that all of its members have striking personal experiences. It allows for the fact that there are different levels of membership, not official membership perhaps, but in terms of involvement in the community. Not everyone is at every moment of her or his life equally fervent or actively engaged in the life of the church. A church (2) does not see itself as necessarily over against the world. There are all sorts of things in the world-at-large that the church wants to embrace and celebrate. You cannot imagine, for example, says Troeltsch, that a sect is necessarily going to embrace Review for Religious the world of the arts and sciences, whereas the church commu-nity will. It embraces the artistic values and the scientific hopes and dreams and goals and methods of a community at any given time. In comparison with a sect, there is a much greater sense of collaboration between people in the church and people outside it. It tries to build bridges. It is a community, therefore, that is much more stable than a sect community. You can be born into a church community; you have to be reborn into a sect community. The idea, for example, of an infant baptism or an infant initiation into a sect would be simply impossible, whereas it is perfectly possible for a church community. The church community sees itself as a process of lifelong nur-ture, whereas the sect community emphasizes radical, dramatic conversion experiences. The danger for church-style community, says Troeltsch, is of course that it can become too secular, it can end up being, as it were, a tool for social stability used by the soci-ety- at-large. Notice that he is not claiming one is better than another; he is setting up--and I am just giving a thumbnail sketch--he is setting up two types of community that he can use as tools with which to examine the history of various church communities. He wants to ask: What is this like? Is it more like a sect? Is it more like a church? In what ways is it like a sect? In what ways is it like a church? Now, why do I propose to you that this is an interesting way to think about religious life? Because Troeltsch makes, almost in passing, one of the most suggestive comments that I have ever seen about religious life in the Catholic tradition. The Catholic Church--certainly back in the first decade of this century when he was looking at it from his own vantage point--is one of the purest church types of organization. He says, however, that the Catholic community has had for many centuries a peculiar and brilliant way of incorporating into itself the most vital, most insightful, most valuable elements of sects that grow up within the ambit of the Catholic community. It makes them religious orders. I suggest to you that--if you think of a community gathering around Anthony in the desert, gathering around Benedict or Scholastica, gathering around Francis and Clare, gathering around Dominic or Ignatius Loyola--you certainly can see those groups as matching up very closely with what Troeltsch has to say about sect communities. You cannot be born into these groups, you have Janua~. -Feb~wa(y 2000 Himes * Returning to Our Ancestral Lands got to choose to join. It is a matter of discerning a vocational call. There is a radical break with a previous kind of life in order to enter one of these groups. They are marked by clear and certain images of what mission is and what goal is, and how you shape people to accomplish that goal. The goal includes seeing this com-munity as being very much over against the community-at-large. The group is not simply part of this world, and it is marked as not being part of this world by a kind of rejection of this world's dom-inant values. The danger here is that, if the group is not in some way stabilized by the structure of a church, it can melt away in two or three generations. Troeltsch, of course, pointed out the other danger too. The problem for the Catholic tradition is that, although the church model stabilizes the sect model by "turning sects into religious orders," in Troeltsch's phrase, it can suddenly turn the religious order into simply another branch of the church model--and thus lose the vibrancy of the sect model. I suggest that, if we are going to reclaim ancestral lands, one of the things we have to do is look to vital religious communities to be sects in the Troeltschian sense of sects. We have to look for communities of people who see themselves as personally called, called to a clear and decided mission, and who see themselves as in some way in contrast to the community around them, even in contrast to the church-at-large around them. Now, for how that happens, let me move to Part Two. Some History of the Development of Church Life I would like to make a hundred thousand qualifications, but, so that you can go to bed tonight, let me just give a very general description. I suggest to you that, up to the present moment, there are three stages to the history of religious life in the Western church. The first stage in the Western church--quite apart from the origins in Egypt and Syria and Asia Minor in the East--runs for about seven hundred years, from the middle of the 5th century to the middle of the 12 th century, roughly from A.D. 450 to 1150. If we are looking for an example of that first period, it is the Benedictine movement. What is religious life? Religious life for those first seven hundred years of the Western church is first and foremost a community of persons who have come together and Review for Religious pledged themselves to a life of poverty, a life of celibacy, a life of prayer and contemplation done in community. Why is it so important that it be done in community? Well, there are two versions of St. Athanasius's Life of Anthony of Egypt. We do not know which is the real one--whether the shorter one is due to somebody's cutting it down after Athanasius died or whether the longer one includes stuff that somebody added after his death. But the longer one, whoever wrote it, has a striking comment. It says: "Anthony went out to the desert to lead a life of radical devo-tion, deep prayer, and obvious poverty, and in doing so he became a source of wonder. But, when a community of others gathered around him, then he became a sign." That is a very perceptive comment. Living out your life in a radical gospel way makes you a source of astonishment, but what validates you as a sign to the church is that you can do this in a community. Let me put this another way (much less eloquently than the author of the longer life of Anthony does): It is possible to be poor, chaste, obedient, and nuts. We all know that. What guarantees that you are poor, chaste, obedient, and sane? Your ability to live with other people without either killing them or being killed by them. The community is what validates the vows. So this idea of living in community is very important and was very important in the Benedictine tradition from its outset. Clearly there are multiple variants of the monastic ideal throughout those seven hundred years, but that is the image of religious life that dominates the first stage. What is religious life? It is a community of people who come together to live lives of poverty, of celibacy, of devotion and prayer and contempla-tion- and often study too--and who do it in community. That is religious life. That reality has something brand-new added to it in the middle of the 12th century, and for a very practical reason. A whole new class of people emerges in Western Europe in the 12th century: the urban poor. One of the things that marked the end of the ancient world was the collapse of cities in Western Europe. In the early Middle Ages, society is essentially rural, A whole new class of people emerges in Western Europe in the 12th century: the urban poor. Janualy-February 2000 2 Himes ¯ Returnin~ to Our Ancestral Lands largely agricultural. There are no great cities for very obvious reasons: the barbarians. Let me remind you here, when we talk about the barbarians, not to picture Jack Palance with a mustache and a horned helmet swooping down to burn and pillage cities! That may have hap-pened along the way too, but, when we talk about the barbar-ians, all of us who are English, Irish, Welsh, or Scottish, Scandinavian, German, Polish, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, Belgian, Hungarian, Czech, Slovak, Sicilian, or northern Italian (from anywhere in Europe but a little piece of land stretch-ing from Naples to just north of Rome)--when we talk about the barbarians we are ta!king about grandma and grandpa. The bar-barians are our ancestors. As they moved into Western Europe, as the empire collapsed, these ancestors of many of us were not stupid. They knew stuff. They knew it takes a lot out of you to burn and pillage. A really good pillage takes a lot of energy. You are not going to waste your time burning and pillaging little one-horse towns. You are going to burn and pillage big cites--that is where the loot is to be got-ten. Since the inhabitants of the Roman empire in its last days were not stupid either, they quickly realized it is much safer living in the little towns than in the big cities: you are less likely to get sacked and pillaged. So, at the end of the ancient world, all over Europe, there is a sort of massive flight to the suburbs. Cities decline, lots of small towns spring up. In that world, how did the church care for people? Well, it was not a money economy. If you were going to found a parish, you were not going to do it with cash. Cash did not mean any-thing in the Middle Ages. Value was in land: it was the land's produce that could support a parish. So some wealthy donor says, "In this town I am giving this field to support the church. It can support two priests so that they can minister to the needs of the people of the town." The problem is, of course, that land is not easily transferable. At the start of the High Middle Ages, from around 1050 on, small towns began to decline in population as people moved back into big cities. In towns where once there were a hundred house-holds, now there were twenty, but there still were two priests for those twenty. Other towns were growing as centers. Where there used to be a hundred households, there were now five thousand households, but there was still only one priest, who was supported Review for Religious by the land donation from centuries before for that town. It is not easy to adjust parish boundaries and clergy resources. So there were growing numbers of people in the major cities of Western Europe who were largely unchurched. Nobody was preaching to them, nobody was teaching them, nobody was lead-ing them into the Gospels, nobody was celebrating sacraments for them. Who was going to tend to these people's needs? New reli-gious communities appeared, communities dedicated above every-thing else to the service of the urban poor. What do they need? Do they need evangelization? We preach. Do they need teaching? We teach. Do they need nursing? We nurse. Whatever they need, that is what we provide. If Benedict and Scholastica are the obvious figures of the first stage, Francis, Clare, and Dominic are the great figures at the start of the second stage, approximately I 150 to 1550. In the course of the Catholic reformation, both prior to and as a response to the Protestant reformers, the church realized that it was going to have to do much better regarding the challenges of a new world. One of the reasons that Luther had such an immense impact--besides the fact that he was immensely insightful--is that he wrote well. He wrote in German and, with the printing press available, turned out lots and lots of copies of relatively short books in the vernacular. Why was it that people like Cajetan and Eck did not have much luck responding to Luther? Because they were turning out thick books, in double columns, in Latin. Nobody was going to read them, even other professors, and so Luther had an impact, whereas initially much of the Catholic response did not. For this third stage we needed a new way to respond to people's needs. Although nobody calls it this, one of the ways was, in effect, the division of l~bor. What we needed was to streamline our styles of pastoral ministry. Instead of communities of people doing what-ever was needed, we were now going to have communities of peo-ple, both women and men, who specialized. We taught young women, we taught young men. We went to the foreign missions. We did nursing. We took care of the elderly. It became clear that different communities had unique apostolates. That model--and I think one can take the Jesuit~ as in many ways the example of this third stage, the embodiment of it--has lasted with great power and great success right down into our own lifetimes. Let me point out something that pertains ~o both the second and the third stages. Something enormously important shifted in Janua~:y-February 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands the course of the 12th century and, after more than eight hun-dred years, is still decisive for today's religious communities. It still affects what members do: we do this ministry to the urban poor. We do this particular kind of ministry for those who "need" it. What does this presuppose? It presupposes the situation during the second and third stages of Western religious life; it presup-poses people in need. It presupposes a world, and a church, in which the laity were essentially passive. Who was going to do the teach-ing, the preaching, the nursing, the caring, the evangelizing? It was going to be people in religious vows. The simply baptized members of the church--they were the recipients of ministry, they were not people who ministered themselves. An enormous shift happened when Vatican Council II called for a truly alive, energized, and ministerially responsible laity. Because of that shift, inevitably there was going to be some sort of identity crisis for religious life. If what makes me a religious is that I am one of group of people who perform such and such a ministry, and if nowadays other people who are not in vowed life, who are not celibate, and who are not living in community are doing the same ministry that I am doing, then what makes me a religious? Previously the identity of the religious--and I could make a similar case regarding the clergy--has been: "We are the people who do x, Y, and Z, and the laity are the people who have x, ¥, and Z done for them." The laity have been essentially passive recipients of ministry. The moment one begins to talk about the church as a community of people all of whom are called to some kind of ministry by baptism .(and not primarily by religious pro-fession or ordination), then everything shifts. That is why I suggest that we are at the end of the third stage and the beginning of a fourth stage. What does the fourth stage look like? Well, I have not a clu& Actually I may have a clue, but it is nothing more than a clue. Let me hasten to say that one of the occupational hazards of people who pretend to know something about the past is to think that they know everything about the future. With that caution in mind, I speak now with a good deal of self-suspicion, and you should hear it with even more suspicion. It is at least possible that a mark of the next great stage of development of religious life in the Western church--it may look more like the first stage than like stage two or three--is that there is a recentering on the nature of living vowed life in community rather than on any apostolate or mission of ours. That, perhaps, is Review for Religious the characteristic of the next stage of religious life. If that proves true, then a category that may be helpful for religious to consider more deeply and theologically is sacramentality. I am not referring to the great seven public and communal sacraments. I mean the much wider and in many ways much richer notion of sacrament, with a small s. And what is that sacrament called? What does sacramentality consist in? I give you Himes's handy-dandy definition of the sacra-mental principle. I have given it often, and it seems true. (After I hear myself say something long enough, it seems to me that it is true!) The definition of the sacramental principle is, I think, this: Whatever is always and every-where true must be noticed, accepted, and celebrated somewhere, sometime. Those things which are always true, those things which are constantly present to us, are almost always ignored. You do not pay attention to the oxygen in a room until it starts t6 go stale. While you have been reading this, you have surely been blinking periodically. Unless you have found my words altogether boring, you have not been counting your blinks. A couple of years ago ] got hit with a bout of Bell's palsy. I could not move anything on the left side of my face, and I could not blink. Throughout the day I had to periodically pull and hold my eyelid down, and tape it down at night. You become very aware of blinking when you cannot do it. When you can do it, when it takes care of itself, you do not pay any attention to it. In order to accept something that is there all the time and make it effectively present, to us, we have to learn to attend to it, to say yes to it, and to celebrate it. What is omnipresent to us? Well, God is: the self-giving of God. That self-giving of God we call, with the benefit of theological shorthand, grace: the self-gift of God's Trinitarian life outside the Trinity itself. It is everywhere. The whole world is just dripping with it; the whole thing is satu- A mark of the next great stage of development of religious life in the Western church is a recentering on the nature of living vowed life in community rather than on any apostolate or mission of ours. Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands rated with grace. But, precisely because that is true, it can be ignored. What is always present is seldom noticed. Whatever calls you, whatever person, place, thing, whatever sight, sound, taste, touch, smell, whatever experience leads you to he aware of, to attend to the reality of God's self-offering to you at that moment, to be able to say yes to it and to rejoice in it-- that is a sacra-ment. All told, how many sacraments are there in the world? How many things are there in the universe! That is what I mean by sacramentality. In that sense of the word--and this is where I am going to pick up the theme from Troeltsch in Part One--in that sense, religious life is a sacramental state within the church. We do not recognize that this is a sacramental state the way we recognize marriage as a sacramental state within the church. But it is in fact sacramental because, after all, religious are called to a deep sense of poverty, to a deep sense of responsibility toward and obedi-ence to the needs of those around us, to a responsible use of celibacy that recognizes our dependency on one another and on God. Is there anything there that everyone in the church is not called to by baptism? Why, then, do we need religious life so much? Because religious life "clearly, strikingly, astonishingly" (in the words of St. Athanasius's Life of Anthony) leads the church to see what the whole church is called to by baptism, to see it clearly and strikingly in a public and communal embodiment that helps people toward realization. Sacramentality is something that may be crucial for everyone's lively understanding of whht religious life is about and what its relationship to the church-at-large is and can be. How to Be More Sacramentally Aware How do you enliven this sense of sacramentality without repli-cating past forms? How do you rescue age-old values? How do you reclaim ancestral lands without simply going back to old build-ings or forms or structures? What can be done? I begin with a perceptive definition I learned from Jaroslav Pelikan, the distinguished historical theologian recently retired from Yale University. In his Jefferson Lectures at the University of Virginia a few years ago, he said: "We must be very careful to dis-tinguish between tradition ahd traditionalism. Tradition is the liv-ing faith of the dead. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living." Review for Religious One is the continuing, living, vital faith that energized those who have gone before us; that is tradition. Traditionalism is faith main-tained by some among us that in fact is already ossified, entombed, embalmed; there is nothing left in it that is energizing. It is the dead faith of the living. How do we begin to reclaim the living faith of our ancestors? I know that this is going on in religious communities at this moment; it has gone on for a good deal of time. But I urge that it continue, and continue precisely in terms of sacramentality. How do we reflect on the meaning of the vows again? Is it possible that the fourth stage of religious life in the Western church into which I believe we are entering is more like religious life in the first stage than the second or third? As a word of preface, let me say that I have thought about this a good deal. Though I am not a religious, I do share with you a vow of obedience and I do share with you a vow of celibacy. I do not share with you living in community, although in fact I have lived in community. My brother Ken lives in a community of Franciscans with only six other people, and I lived in a house at the seminary in Huntington with fourteen other priests and sixty-five seminarians. I used to tell him: "You became a Franciscan and live in a rectory. I become a diocesan priest and live in a monastery." It is wonderful how God moves things around! The thing that has led me to think about this most is the vow I do not have, the vow of poverty. I find that the things I have vowed are not something I have to think about. I know what obe-dience means. The bishop calls me up and says, "I want to see you about doing x, Y, and Z." And I. say, "Okay, bishop, let me come and talk with you." There is'a structure to that. I do not have to get up in the morning and think: What does it mean to be obedi-ent today? That is taken care of. I do not have to think about what it is to be celibate. I know what means: that is taken care of. There is a structure to that too. What is not structured for me is poverty, and so it is a real problem. What does it mean for me as a university professor to talk Much as been written about poverty in recent years that is very powerful, but it is useful rhetorically more than actually real. Januat3~-Febrtta~y 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands about poverty when I do not have a vow of poverty? How, then, as a baptized member of the Body of Christ, do I incorporate poverty? That is a big issue, and I have thought about it. This is my pref-ace to what I am now going to say about the three vows. Much as been written about poverty in recent years that is very powerful, but it is useful rhetorically more than actually real. It assumes that poverty is about identification with the poor--I am convinced that it is not. I expect some people to say "Oh, but it is.t" I wish it were, but I do not think so. My reason is this: There is an enormous difference between my deciding "I will not eat today" and actually having nothing to eat. If I decide not to eat (even though there are tons of food in tt(e refrigerator) because I want to identify with the poor by going to bed tonight with an empty stomach, I am forgetting something. For me there will be break-fast tomorrow morning, but overnight the poor are thinking: "I would love to have eaten today and I couldn't, and God knows whether I will get anything to eat tomorrow morning." These are simply totally different experiences, and I think it is nothing but self-serving romanticism to say, "Isn't it wonderful that we have identified with the poor!" I think that is just false, and I think it is dangerously false because it is overly romantic. 20 What Is Poverty? I turn to my brother's tradition. Who is the wisest one to have talked about poverty in the Western church? Francis of Assisi. Nobody is wiser on it than Francis. And I suggest that what Francis saw is very much in a line that starts with Augustine. But Francis saw its implications in brand-new ways. What is the most famous line from Augustine? What line does everybody know from St. Augustine? "You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You." (A pastor in a diocese not far from here famously used to get up on any saint's feast and say, "Ah, today we remember St. Cuthbert of Auxerre, who is famous for that wonderful statement of his, 'You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless . '" According to this pastor, every saint had said it--or must have said it.) Well, what is Augustine saying? He is saying that all crea-tures- not just all human beings, please notice, but all creatures-- have one deep characteristic. That was what Francis saw so clearly. That deep characteristic is this: At our core, at our heart, we are Review for Religious empty. There is hunger, there is restlessness. The characteristic human experience is "Yeah, yeah, yeah, but more!" You have never known a human being who did not want more. The totally satis-fied, totally fulfilled human being is dead. If you want to see a totally filled human being, drop into your local cemetery. The fact is that what marks us as human beings is endless restlessness, end-less hunger--more, more, more, more, more. I say sometimes to students: "If somebody you know ever says, 'I have everything, I am everything, I know everything, I have experienced everything that I could possibly want, I am perfectly and totally satisfied,' ask the person this: 'Would you like it to last?'" If you had everything, what you would want is more time. There is never a moment when we do not want. That is the characteristic of being a creature. This is what Francis saw and recognized as uniting us with all of creation. That is what Francis saw in the mystical marriage with Lady Poverty, and it is what motivates the Canticle of the Sun. V~y is it Brother Sun and Sister Moon? VVhat is it that makes the moon and the sun, earth and water and air and fire, what makes everything my brother and sister? The fact that we all are marked by one great family resemblance: we are all poor. We did not make ourselves. We are all ultimately dependent. Nobody is fulfilled. If that is true, then poverty is what unites us with all other creatures. If that is so, then I suggest that poverty is the key value in the vows. My own reading of the relationship of the vows is that there are not three. There is one, and two further explications. The cen-tral vow is poverty. Celibacy and obedience are ways of being poor. But poverty is the central one. And the point about poverty is: It is not a social condition first of all, it is not an economic condition first of all. First of all, it is metaphysical; it is what makes you you. To embrace poverty publicly is to embrace, publicly, being a human being. Being poor is being human publicly. It is to embrace the human condition. It is to recognize that there are radical limits on me, limits of time, ultimately. A time is going to come when I will breathe out and think "Gee, I'd like to breathe in"--and it will not happen. There is going to come a time when I will say, "I would like just to get to tomorrow morning," and there will not be time for me to get there. There are limitations on time, there are limitations on energy, there are limitations on strength, there are limitations on courage, there are limitations on wisdom, there are limitations on knowledge. Ultimately I have to look at that and say, "And it is a good thing! I embrace it." Poverty is central. Januao,-Februa~y 2000 '-3! Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands Celibacy is a way of saying that very publicly. I told you that I think there is an overly romantic element in much that has been said about poverty in recent years. I think a huge amount of fatu-ous slop has been written about celibacy. I think that much of what has been done on celibacy in recent years is the most patent non-sense. We have all sorts of stuff saying it is perfectly possible to be celibate and a completely fulfilled and happy man or woman. Junk! The fact is that 99.999 percent of the human race has found, does find, and presumably always will find that the most significant relationship in their lives is being someone's spouse and someone's parent. If I come along and say: "Well, I am no one's spouse and I am no one's parent, and it does not matter a hill of beans. I am just as happy as can be. I am just as fulfilled as you can get. What 99.999 percent of the human race thinks is so important really is not important at all"--well, that is arrogance, stupid arrogance. The whole point of celibacy is, of course, that you are unfulfilled. But, if you can be publicly unfulfilled and still be an intelligent, free, responsible, loving, brave, wise, concerned human being, then your life suggests that maybe "fulfillment" is not what human-ity is about. Your life is a public witness to the fact that unfulfill-ment is what is characteristic of being a human being. To go around saying "Oh, we're all fulfilled" is to make hash of the whole of the Franciscan tradition. It is to make nonsense of Augustine's restless heart. Manifestly the human race is unfulfilled, and so, when some-body says "Here I am, a publicly vowed celibate," he or she loudly proclaims: "I am unfulfilled, and that is okay. We are all unful-filled. I am just publicly noting the fact. I am a reminder, a clear picture, of the fact that you are as unfulfilled as I am. I am just publicly acknowledging that fact in a particularly striking way." The same thing is true with obedience. Obedience has nothing to do--or almost nothing--with the submission of one person's will to another person's will. That is anti-Christian thinking. The whole point of our relationship to the will of God is that I do not subject my will to God's will. I discover that God's will really is my will, that God's will is what undergirds my will. It is not a question of "Gee, I want this and God wants that and, by hook or by crook, I've got to pull myself around to want what God wants." That is a misunderstanding of God; that is a destructive picture of God. What does obedience mean? Above everything else, it means poverty in the face of facts. Obedience is, above everything else, a responsibility to what is: not what you would like, not what you had Review for Religious hoped, not what you wanted, not what you wished, not what you feared, but what is. I used to tell my students that, when you are talking about obedience to a superior, when you are talking about obedience to a bishop, the point is this: You are newly ordained and you get assigned to a parish. You are just the best thing that ever happened to kids. John Bosco looks like a piker. This is just the best thing that ever happened to teenagers. You are gung-ho to work with kids. It happens, however, that at the moment you are needed in this parish. There are not a lot of kids; younger fam-ilies have moved out; it is, in fact, a very elderly neighborhood. If you say, "Well, I just don't work with the elderly, I work with kids," you are being disobedient. You are not being disobedient to the bishop, you are not being disobedient to the pas-tor, you are being disobedient to facts. The fact is that these are the people who are here. You are the person on the spot--serve them! If you find yourself saying inside, "Well, you know, I am not really good at serving them," let yourself hear them saying "Yeah, I know. We've noticed." And then notice that you are the only one there. If the Titanic is going down and you are the nearest ship, do not say, "Well, you know, it would crowd breakfast so terribly to take on these other passengers." The ship is going down. Get over and save them! That is obedience to facts, and it is poverty. It is the recogni-tion that, hey, there are some things I am good at and some things I am not good at. Sometimes I am in positions where what I am not good at is what is most necessary. Then I have to give it my best even though it is clear that I am not going to do very well at it. I may also have the responsibility to say, "Somebody else in here might be a lot better at this than I am." But until that happens I am here, and I will get to work. That is real obedience. It is, once again, poverty. It is a recognition of the limitations of our histor-ical placement. I have been given this time and this place. I would have been just a knockout in the 18th century. In the 18th cen-tury I would have been just wonderful. But there was a problem: I was not begotten until the middle of the 20th century. So, no matter how great you would have been in the 18th century, you What does obedience mean ? Above everything else, it means poverty in the face of facts. January-February 2000 Himes * Returning to Our Ancestral Lands were not there. Likewise, you might be the best thing that could ever happen to the church of the 24th century. But, unless you have really good genes in your family, you are not going to be there. This is the only century you have; this is the one you bet-ter relate to even though it might not always be the one you wanted. That is the experience of poverty. Celibacy, obedience--both variants of poverty! Why is it so important that religious life seize that value of poverty and be a sign of it for the whole church? Because it is the experience of being a human being. It is the deepest truth about us as human beings. It is what the rest of us, in all sorts of ways, come to grips with or else try to hide from ourselves. Amid all these human beings, there should be communities of women and men who say in the strongest, clearest, and most striking way: "I, too, am poor, and it is good. This is what it is to be a human being." Now, how do you convey that truth to people? Well, it will he different from person to person, from community to com-munity, and from place to place. You cannot replicate the past. If you had known Dominic or Francis, Scholastica or Teresa of Avila, if you had known Ignatius or Vincent de Paul or Jane Frances Fr~myot de Chantal, perhaps they would have said, "I never had a disciple as good as this." But, you see, they never said that. You are not a contemporary of theirs; you are a con-temporary of mine. Francis of Assisi does not need you, but I do. So do not try to relate to Francis of Assisi or Jane Frances, but make a good attempt of getting to me. When, by retaining or recovering important values we "return to our ancestral lands," we are not thereby called to sow the ances-tral crops. Ancient lands can bear new crops, and new crops are needed for a new generation of people. I predict that, in the next fifty years, religious life is going to experience an explosion of growth. It may look different than we expect. Some older com-munities may die or merge--or meld into newer communities. Not every community will experience an explosion, but there will be an explosion of people living publicly vowed lives in community as sacramental signs to the rest of us of how the Christian tradition understands genuine humanity. I predict that sects, in Troeltsch's meaning, will be powerfully witnessing to the church so that the church is not allowed to become a hidebound and ossified insti-tution. This explosion will happen because the church could not survive without it--and we have the Lord's word that the church Review for Religious will survive. But I do not know how it will happen. The how ques-tion has never been the forte of the church, which, in its own poverty, only just manages to keep going. These observations are those of a passionate religious watcher. In some new ways, religious life will still be there in the future, for the church needs you. I have no doubt that, if only I could live thousand years longer, I could write a whopping good book about that future. Questions for Reflection and Discussion 1. What elements of religious life have been eclipsed in recent years and need to be reclaimed? 2. How do we reclaim values without retreating to past forms? 3. Where do our particular religious communities fit in the development of vowed life in the church's history? 4. How can we establish community in religious life when the community is not its own center? Blink I like to think of thegn sledding, graceful, flying down some swift hill, the white in their hair only snow, bright gloves flashing in the wind above the aluminum board not as this aged couple she scarved in purple, taking careful steps in ankle boots, clutching a brown grocery bag, he shuffling two steps ahead, the long cool silver ironing board tucked beneath his arm. Doretta Cornell RDC January-Februmy 2000 religious mission JOHN KLEIN Transforming Mission: A Spirit of Adventure On 22 March 1999 a headline appeared in the New York Times reading: "Voyage End Brings Crew Back Down to Earth." The article recounted the voyage of the first two balloonists to circle the globe, aboard Breitling Orbiter III. The trip lasted nineteen days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-five minutes and covered a total of 29,054.6 miles. During their news conference one of the adventurers, Dr. Bertrand Piccard, a Swiss psychiatrist, reflected upon their experience: "It was not a matter of setting records; it was a fabulous metaphor of life. To try is the only way to survive." His compatriot, Brian Jones, a former member of the British Air Force, added: "We are not heroes. We just proved that dreams could come true.m Later in the interview Dr. Piccard admitted that the journey posed significant risks, struggles, and sacrifices. Confined in their 16.5 foot-by-10 foot capsule, freezing cold, and often lack-ing water, the adventurers nearly abandoned their effort several times. Piccard said, "When one of us was about to give up, the other would support him." This Magellanesque journey offers us a fabulous metaphor for our lives as religious leaders. Like Piccard and Jones, we find ourselves on a journey demanding John Klein FMS gave this presidential address at the August 1999 assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM). His address is Marist High School; 1241 Kennedy Boulevard; Bayonne, New Jersey 07002. Review for Religious that we move beyond preconceived boundaries, one that forces us to tap into unsuspected personal and corporate resources, one that calls us to risk and trust and sometimes upset the status quo, one that invites us to dream of new possibilities and challenges, one that beckons us to move from the center to the margins. Religious leadership today is truly an adventure extending Jesus' mission to proclaim the kingdom and to make God known and loved. Mission is a description of Jesus, the Son of God, who invites us to be adventurers and dreamers with him. The daily realities of our work, however, do not permit us to escape being administrators, managers, fund-raisers, therapists, legal experts, and arbiters. Who has the time and the energy to dream and to participate in an adventure? How can we become "unstuck" and move forward the renewal of religious life? The church historian John W. O'Malley SJ has said, "It is more diffi-cult to reform a religious order than to found one.''2 Our expe-rience during the past thirty years certainly confirms this. Nonetheless, our role as leaders offers us a wonderful opportu-nity to influence and design the future, remembering that this project of religious life is God's work and not ours. With hope, like Jacob waking from his dream at Bethel, we can say of our time and our struggles, "Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it" (Gn 28:16). With confidence, like St. Paul in his Second Letter to Timothy (1:6-7), we can remind each other that "God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but rather a spirit of power and of love." It is in this spirit that we can face the future and set out on an adventure not of our design, but God's. John Gardner in his book Self-Renewal offers a sobering pre-diction if we opt to respond otherwise. He says: "If people are apathetic, defeated in spirit, or unable to imagine a future worth striving for, the game is lost.''3 We cannot lose this game. On the contrary, we need to see our present situation as opportunity. We need to articulate a high level of expectations for ourselves, the members of our congregations, and the institutions we own and sponsor. We are called to do this in a culture that does not share our values, but rather extols individualism, tends to privatize reli-gion, and fails to engender a true sense of community. Archbishop Rembert Weakland recently highlighted this challenge, asserting that "one of the most difficult pastoral tasks of our day., that has challenged the renewal at every turn is precisely how to overcome the cultural bias of our age toward the individualistic. ''4 Janumy-February 2000 Klein ¯ Tran~fomning Mission Our religious communities have not remained immune from these societal influences. On the contrary, society has tended to co-opt us and has led many religious to make private accommo-dations to religious life. This cripples our mission, diminishes a sense of esprit de corps and solidarity, and saps our energy and possibilities for the future. "The Nygren and Ukeritis study already warned that, despite their language of prophecy and sol-idarity with the poor, many religious in the United States may be far more accommodated and assimilated into the dominant cul-ture than they like to believe. The penchant for individualism and self-fulfillment so characteristic of this culture has found a ready berth in many religious communities. Self-determination has eroded communal and institutional commitments.''s Given this situation, how are we as religious leaders called to respond? I believe that we can discover the answer by reflecting on the example that Jesus provides us. The Letter to the Hebrews (12:2) refers to Jesus as the pioneer. He is the one who goes before us to offer the example and then returns to us to point the direction and to reassiire us that he is always present with us. Jesus is the adventurer calling us to join with him in mission and to fan the embers our commitment into a flame spreading new life and hope. Like us, Jesus found himself engaged in mission, searching for ways to engender new life, struggling and sometimes discour-aged with a disparate band of disciples, and confronting a society at best indifferent to his values and vision. How did he respond? What was and is Jesus' mission? How did he endeavor to foster new life? How did he pursue his mission and commitment? How did he accomplish the transformation of the lives of his disciples and the many others whom he touched as well? By probing these questions we will begin to perceive ourselves as part of a unique adventure that will transform our mission and foster new life. However, we do not probe the questions alone. This effort must be a collaborative and communal one. While we do not need everyone in our province or congregation to participate in this effort, we do need a "critical mass" of people to share the adventure. Only this will move our mission and our group for-ward. "What we dream alone remains just a dream, but what we dream with others can become a reality.''6 If we willingly dream together in faith, then our mission will be transformed and we will have the confidence that our best years are ahead of us. In all of Review for Religious our efforts together, Jesus, the pioneer, presents the lens through which we can discern our course of action and catch a glimpse of the religious life of the future. This is particularly true in three aspects of his mission that challenge us today: Jesus' deep spiri-tuality and relationship to his Father, his commitment to mis-sion at the margins of society, and, finally, his formation of an intentional community of disciples to carry his mission forward. Our following his response in these areas will, I believe, offer the compelling ways through which we will discover our unique role in society and the church. Jesus appreciated better than anyone that to be in close, intimate relationship with God inevitably makes people countercultural and dis-tinctive. It places them in a dangerous situation, making them as disciples part of a cultural minority. This minority cannot help seeing the world and society through different eyes, the eyes of Jesus. This vision encourages those who follow Jesus to choose new life by loving the Lord, our God, heeding his voice, and holding fast to him (Dt 30:15-20). Seeing reality this way meant new life for Jesus also, for his profound spirituality caused him to turn society's values on their head and, in the process, made him a dangerous person. We see this clearly in Jesus' table fellowship. He ate with scribes and Pharisees, with the poor and destitute, with tax col-lectors and sinners. By breaking boundaries, risking disapproval, and "imaging" the reality of God for the people of his time, Jesus made his mission, the proclamation of the kingdom, tangible. It was in food-and-drink situations that he revealed the divine gifts of joy (Mt 9:15), pardon (Lk 7:47), salvation (Lk 19:9), and super-abundance (Mr 14:15-2 I). It is at table that we witness the trans-forming conversion of Zacchaeus, Jesus' example of servant leadership, and the opening of the weary disciples' eyes at Emmaus. It is therefore primarily at his table, at his Eucharist, where we religious will find new life for our mission. It is at his table that we will encounter him through the lives of sinners and outcasts, our brothers and sisters, realizing that the margin is our home too. In his message for the World Day of Peace, Pope John Paul II exhorted us to "recognize Christ in the poorest and the most marginalized, those whom the Eucharist--which is communion What was and is Jesus' mission ? Janualy-Februaly 2000 Klein ¯ Transforming Mission in the body and blood of Christ given up for us--commits us to serve. As the parable of the rich man, who will remain forever without a name, and the poor man called Lazarus clearly shows, 'in the stark contrast between the insensitive rich man and the poor in need of everything, God is on the latter's side.' We too must be on this same side.''7 The side of the poor and disenfran-chised is the side where the religious man and woman must be found. Whether or not we work directly with the poor, we can-not escape the imperative of seeing the world with the eyes of the poor. This attitude, then, will inform our prayer, our work, and our lifestyles. The Gospel of Luke reminds us that the sign that Jesus is "the one who is to come" is that the poor are having the Good News proclaimed to them. In this Jesus gave flesh to his kingdom and illustrated that the reign of God is now. Our mission as reli-gious leaders represents the continuing participation in his incar-nation. Our mission calls us to illustrate that economic and social boundaries are artificial, made by human hands. Our mission proclaims that, if "we truly want to see the glory of God, we must move downward with Jesus. This is the deepest reason for living in solidarity with poor, oppressed, and handicapped people. They are the ones through whom God's glory can manifest itself to us. They show us the way to God, the way to salvation.''8 To ignore the sorrows and needs of others is to ignore the flesh of Jesus and to deny the incarnation. For us to make the "option for the poor" a reality will mean a conversion of mind and heart. It is a conversion that will find its source in prayer, reflection, and Eucharist. It is a conversion that demonstrates itself through simplicity of lifestyle and sensi-tivity to those less fortunate than we. Too often we have claimed the adjectives prophetic and countercultural for ourselves. It would be far better that others attribute them to us after seeing the way we live and work and pray. They will do so if we make certain that our rhetoric and our reality coincide and that our lifestyles reflect charism rather than just personal choices. Johann Baptist Metz once wrote that "religious orders are a kind of shock therapy. ¯ for the church as a whole. Against the dangerous accommoda-tions and questionable compromises that the church . . . can always incline to, they press for the uncompromising nature of the gospel and the imitation of Christ. In this sense they ire the insti-tutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the church.''9 Review for Religious Our mission today is to be dangerous as Jesus was and to make Metz's description of us real. This mission is by its very nature a communal one, and I believe that new life for the mission of Christ will be found, not necessarily in endeavoring to enliven already existing local com-munities, but rather in forming new intentional communities within our groups. In addressing the obstacles to refounding a religious community, Gerald Arbuclde acknowledged that efforts to "move" or "change" a group inevitably encounter significant resistance. Hence, he says, "The new belongs elsewhere." These communities, similar to the one Jesus formed with his disciples, have mission at their center and heart. Mission conse-quently operates as their chief source of connectedness and energy. Members of an intentional community realize that they cannot minister to others outside unless they live in a community founded on inter-dependence and a mutuality informed by faith. This faith life sensitively balances the needs of the community and those of each individual and finds sharing of faith to be indispensable to its life. This inevitably leads to a high level of trust that allows mem-bers to challenge one another's behavior in light of a commonly accepted vision and goal. While these intentional communities meet some of the emotional, social, and intellectual needs of its members, they are in no way therapeutic support centers. An intentional community is "a group of religious living together who feel the need to be supported in their ministries and willingly commit themselves to develop a gospel-centered intimacy to be expressed in shared faith, ongoing conversation, and shared action."1° In short, an intentional community is one that has a clear and visible and easily identifiable way of life. Such a group offers the world what it does not find elsewhere: a community of faith, friendship, and mutual support engaged in an adventure larger than itself. In writing about his hopes for Dominican communities, Timothy Radcliffe OP, the master general, highlighted the impor-tance of such communities for the future of religious life. These groups, he maintained, carry within themselves seeds of new life. Communities similar to the one Jesus formed with his disciples have mission at their center and heart. January-Februaty 2000 Klein ¯ Transforming Mission "Unless a province plans the building of such communities, then it dies. A province with three communities where the brethren flourish in their Dominican life has a future, with the grace of God. A province with twenty communities where we just survive may well have none." it To say the least, we religious at the threshold of the new mil-lennium face significant challenges as we participate in Jesus' adventure. Allowing God to transform our mission and ourselves will not be a process devoid of risk and some pain. Nonetheless, to do otherwise would rob our religious families of the new life necessary to bring them into the future and, as a result, would put at risk our contribution to the mission of Christ. In the conclu-sion of Vita consecrata, the Holy Father asserts that religious "have not only a glorious history to remember and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished! Look to the future, where the Spirit is sending you in order to do even greater things" (VC §110). A real test of our faith and gospel hope is our belief in the truth of John Paul's words. Martin Heidegger once compared the journey of life to a person walking in a huge forest where it is pitch dark, where it is raining and thundering, and one has completely lost the way. There is a bolt of lightning and for an instant the way is clear. Then it is dark again. All one can and must do is keep going in the direction one saw illuminated by the lightning flash. This is our challenge and our opportunity: to keep going, to trust that God is faithful, to remember the way in the light of those key moments through which God intervenes in our lives. Most of our life we must move ahead in darkness, sustained in our faithfulness by what we once glimpsed when, if only for an instant, everything was clear.12 Notes ~ New York Times, 22 March 1999, p. 8. -' John W. O'Malley SJ, Tradition and Transition: H#torical Perspectives on Vatican II (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1989), p. 97. 3 Albert DiIanni SM, Religious Life as Adventure (New York: Alba House, 1994), p. 108. 4 Rembert Weakland OSB, "Liturgy and Common Ground," America 180, no. 5 (20 February 1999): 9. s Robert J. Schreiter, "Challenges and Directions of Religious Life at the Turn of the Millennium," Address given at the inauguration of the Center for the Study of Religious Life, 21 June 1998, p. 11. Review for Religious 6 Ronald Rolheiser OMI, "Religious Life in America Faces a Change of Epoch," paper prepared for the Inter-American Meeting in Toronto, May 1999, p. 13. 7 Pope John Paul II, "Message for the Celebration of the World Day of Peace," 1 January 1999, p. 21. s Robert A. Jonas, Henri Nouwen (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1998), p. 35. 9 Gerald A. Arbuckle SM, From Chaos to Mission: Refounding Religious Life Formation (Strathfield, N.S.W.: St. Paul's Publications, 1996), p. 11. ~0 Arbuclde, From Chaos to Mission, p. 15 I. " Timothy Radcliffe OP, Pastoral letter "The Promise of Life," 2 February 1999, p. 3. ~2 John Fullenbach, Prodaiming His Kingdom (Manila: Divine Word Publications, 1992), p. 190. The Joys of January Beautiful month of the cold, clean slate: nothing mars its pristine glare. Starlings stare, perched on empty limbs shaking in their purity. The air bears thoughts of ice. Wind cuts through whispers. Walls show us where twigs scrape messages: deliver words, deliver us: bend, blow beautifully, winter stems. Wake us. The dark recedes, we see our breath, a flickering. Light. Mary Kennan Herbert Janua~. -Febmtmy 2000 A. PAUL DOMINIC Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy Spurely, in the Indian experience, joy has not been a strong oint in religious life, in fact or in principle. This came to me as a rude shock twenty-odd years ago during a chat with a couple of sisters. As I was leaving their place, one of them made a particularly religious sort of request: "Father, will you please pray for vocations to our congregation?" I replied at once, though with some inner hesitation, "Why pray? If you are all happy, the girls will simply flock to you!" When I said this, I did not know I was echoing the mind of Pope Paul vI revealed in his 1971 apostolic exhortation Evangelica testificatio (§55). I must not have impressed them, for one of them said to me later, "But you must know we are religious!" Though that was not a recent event, attitudes of this type do not change in a single generation--though I would like to be proved wrong. Incidentally, the rumor of joyless religious life is not an exclusively Indian phenomenon: most of the religious con-gregations here have been transported from the West. Why, the very fact that a paper on consecrated life as anointed with joy was read in 1998 in San Antonio, Texas, at the annual confer-ence of vicars of religious implies that even modern American religious are not above the need of awakening to joy in their life of consecration.' A. Paul Dominic SJ last wrote for us in November-December 1995. His address is Satyodayam; 12-5-33, S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Review for Religiota This sad state of affairs in religious life is a reflection of Christianity in general, which has been accused of joylessness by both Westerners and Easterners. Nietzsche, for instance, has ridiculed the claim of Christians to have been saved by Christ. If it were really so, he argues, why could they not look joyful instead of appearing so remarkably gloomy? The Indian Shree Rajneesh, quite celebrated in his way, has been no less categorical in his attack on Christian attitudes. "Christians say that Jesus never laughed!" he alleges, and counters: "Now this seems to be the ulti-mate in stupidity. Jesus . never laughed? Then who else can laugh? . . They have made his picture very sad-looking, long-faced, burdened. This is not possible. This is utterly wrong.''2 All this non-Christian aspersion may well serve as a goad, particularly for us religious, to discover or rediscover the characteristic joy of Christ and enter into it (see Mt 25:21 and 23) and thus be evange-lized, that is, "gladdened by the good news" of our redemption. The Oil of Gladness It is heartening to observe that, in the biblical experience, there is a joyous anointing, besides several others. This joyous anointing is bestowed on the righteous king, that is, the king who loves justice, producing the pleasure of the people without seeking his own fortune (Ps 45:3-8). Who can this joyously anointed king be but him whose very name is Christ, meaning, of course, "the anointed one"? He is the one who, as no other, can witness to his joy in this fashion: "I was beside the master crafts-man, delighting him day after day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere on his earth, delighting to be with the children of men" (Pv 8:30-3 I). If, by virtue of baptismal consecration, every Christian shares in the life of the joyously anointed Christ, what may we conclude about those consecrated further by religious profession? Being anointed with the oil of gladness is no doubt a charism person-ally received; it is, however, not to be enjoyed as a private pos-session, but to be ever passed on for the surprise enjoyment of others. If religious are genuine enough, they will necessarily make their anointing evident, for the joyous enhancement of others. Leading lives of contagious joy" because their God is the joy of their never ending youth, they will liberate the masses from their oppressed lives and lead them into the same joy. January-Febrnary 2000 Dominic ¯ Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy All truly enlightened persons, whatever their religion, would share in this lofty, uplifting, and truly religious sentiment of theirs. People's innermost recesses would be affected, and there-fore the social fabric too. For instance, among the Hindu Tamil saints was Tayumanavar, who prayed out of the abundance of his holy joy: "That all should be happy is my one wish, Almighty One! This is the only thing I know!" The Christian ashrams here in India have, in proper inter-religious spirit, followed suit in earnest and have introduced, somewhere at the beginning of Lauds, the singing of the Sanskrit sloka "Lokah samasta sukhino bhavantu," which means "May all the world be happy!" This vision of joy, flowing to us from God and necessarily flowing to others from us, is certainly wonderful. How do we make this vision vivid to ourselves and transparent to others in a practicable, communicable way? The Religious Way of Joy The way to experience joy in God is, first and foremost, to enjoy our life, basically and paradoxically, in its human and of course ecological dimension. There God will be available, not absent. For one thing, where joy is there will be no room for complaining. Complaining is a root of the atheist's mindset (see Ph 2:14-15). Habitually complaining persons construe everything as wrong, in sharp contrast to the divine intention exhibited in creation and providence (see Gn 1 and Mt 5:45), and so they can-not subscribe to any belief in God. Even if they claimed to believe, their belief would be the result of some psychological or religious conditioning and so only superficial, if not spurious. Rajneesh warns against such joyless nominal faith, advocat-ing an increasing enjoyment of life as the way to find God-given joy in ourselves. He says: Any small thing is full of God! So love this life . Eat, enjoy the food, and let God come to you as a taste. Listen to music, get lost in it, and let God come to you as sound ¯ . . as harmony. Let God descend on you slowly, without any hankering to catch hold of him . Just open yourself as much as possible--to the trees, to the birds, to the rains, to the sun, to the sands¯ Open yourself wherever you are; absorb, and gratitude will arise . And you will not know towards whom this gratitude is arising. When you don't know towards whom., it is towards God) Review for Religious Does this not read like a poetic rendition of the Contemplation to Attain love offered by St. Ignatius at the very climax of his Spiritual Exercises (§§230-237) to train people to find the joy of God no less outside their retreat than in it? Again, does this not evoke the following bold and originally controversial remark of St. Paul? "If I partake with thankfulness, why should I be denounced because of that for which I give thanks? So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Co 10:30-31; see also Col 3:16-17). Again, does this not read like an expository commentary on the praxis and pronouncements of Jesus? He, whose mission was to make known the heart of God to humanity, did not speak explicitly about God as much as he spoke about the happiness people longed for. He assured them that they were des-tined for joy, and, to prove it, he went about doing good for them in ever sur-prising ways. He fed them in their hunger without being asked, and he sat-isfied them. In that way he led them to discover for themselves that it was God who fed them to their heart's content. He healed them of their many illnesses and gladdened them and in that way enlightened them about how God meant them to be healthy and happy. His teaching was new precisely in proclaiming that they were at the threshold of an altogether new blessedness, thanks to the unique intervention God was initiating in humanity. He declared a new law, the law of beatitude (see Mt 5:1-10), for all, but particularly for the poor, that is, for those who longed for blessedness (see Lk 10:23-24). All this would have been offensive to people who abided by their fixed religious ways without, however, conspicu-ous happy living. To those who made much of fasting, for instance, he declared himself against it unless times and seasons made sense of it and demanded it. Indeed, he approved of feast-ing before fasting, gladly characterizing himself as one who came in the spirit of God's new time, eating, drinking, and partying in marked contrast to his predecessor, and not fighting shy of the The way to experience joy in God is, first and foremost, to enjoy our life in its human and of course ecological dimension. .~anualy-Februa~y 2000 Dominic * Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy nicknames "glutton" and "drunkard" that some hurled at him. Because he found the joy of God in feasting in God's name, he could also, paradoxically, find the God of joy while abstaining from any feast. Is it not quite revelatory, when we come to think of it, that the word feast denotes both a lavish meal (as at a wed-ding) and a periodic religious observance? Christ was persuaded . that God himself was feasting, and so he would urge people undertaking a fast to present an appearance of joy (Mt 6:16-18). Whatever delightful stories of God he told had invariably the magic spell of joy in life. The stories suggest that only those who have known the joy of a wedding feast, or a bumper harvest, or an unexpected catch of fish, or giving birth to a child, or finding a lost coin or son, or stumbling on a treasure, or seeing and being a child, and so forth, could understand and delight in God. They as much as say that anyone who has known none of life's ordinary joys would be unable to know, let alone enjoy, God in their life-- even though God, as the source of all other joys, is a joy well above life's mundane joys. So Christ's call to joy was constant and compelling, encouraging us to be open to unnoticed joys around us and then to greater joy: Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? . . . Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? Therefore do no worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?". Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. (Mt 6:26-32) All who have known and enjoyed God thus in life will hope-fully carry this, their basic thrill of happiness, all through their life and will further develop their happy character through life's tasks, trials, and temptations. Anointing Others with Joy Like the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, the more we become what we are (namely, anointed with joy) by growing in the joy that abides in us from our looking at Jesus, the pioneer Review for Religious of our joy, the more we shall be able to anoint others with joy. Sensing this dynamic of joy, how does one move in this mission of joy (evangelization, translated literally)? Basic to any move in relation to others is openness to all so that all may have life. The joy within us, if genuine, will be free from all conditioning by others and will contrive to make every-one welcome indiscriminately. This is what Christ did. He who said "Let the little children come to me" in an age when they counted for little had much the same attitude of welcome towards all, Jew or gentile or Samaritan, Pharisee or Sadducee or rogue, man or woman, young or old, high or low, rich or poor, clean or dirty, learned or illiterate, virtu-ous or sinful, and so forth, irrespec-tive of all segregations prevailing in his day. When he did make choices, however, it was doubtless towards the poor of all sorts, showing compas-sion for the multitude that was like sheep without a shepherd, saying that he had come for sinners, not the virtuous, and that the Spirit had anointed him to bring good news to the poor, to prisoners, the blind, and the oppressed. And so they, the poor masses, who Jesus sadly foretold are with us always (more glaringly now than ever before), have the greatest claim on our mission of joy. How do we set about this privileged mission? Thefirst move must be to initiate or maintain solidarity with people in their joyless situation, following the incarnation's prin-ciple of bringing joy to the world. We need to be one with them as far as possible. Ideally, of course, we should be so much one with them that nothing differentiates us from them in sur-rounding society. Meanwhile every attempt we make in this direc-tion will be an opening of joy to the unfortunates with whom we seek to share our own joy. During my turn as chaplain at a home for the aged, the day I began eating with them at their own table (something they had never seen before) was a matter of undreamt-of joy for them, far more beneficial than my liturgical or homiletic performance. The ontological principle actio in distans repugnat is no less sociological and evangelical. When Jesus sent his disciples The joy within us will be free from all conditioning by others and will contrive to make everyone welcome indiscriminately. January-February 2000 Dominic * Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy on mission, what was he doing but bridging the gap between the teaching tribe and the taught? In his clear instruction to them to stay and eat happily with their hosts, what was he aiming at but their insertion into their very midst? When he himself was at home in the company of the sick and suffering and sinful, what was he exhibiting but his identification with their milieu? The second move must be to respond to the felt desires of those whom we have chosen to serve foremost in the promotion of joy. The Bible has as much to do with this as with the worship of God (see Is 58:6-10, Am 5:21-24, Mi 6:6-8). However much we may have identified with various persons, we may be mistaken about their drives and urges. That is why we have not had in great numbers the likes of St. Peter Claver and Blessed Katherine Drexel in the history of slavery, or of Bishop Romero and Corazon Aquino (once president of the Philippines) in the much delayed popular struggle, or of Little Sister Madeleine of Jesus and professor-turned-preacher Peter Reddy pitching their tents on the fringe of society.4 To work today toward a better future, it would on our part be best if we had people spell out their desires and then responded to them. Though at times Jesus' benefac-tions were a surprise to the beneficiaries of them, often he led people to be aware of their needs and then proceeded to respond to those needs, and bring joy (see Mk 10:46-52, Jn 4:4-42, Jn 5:1-9, even Mt 20:20-23). Besides this, he was quick to sense and fill the deeper spiritual needs they felt in spite of, or along with, their physical or social ones (as in the cases of Mary of Magdala and Joanna, Bartimaeus, Zacchaeus, the Samaritan outcast, and the Gerasene demoniac). Unlike him was the North American priest working in a South American parish who, to his dismay, discovered from his old cat-echist that his people, whom he had raised economically to a sat-isfactory level, were leaving him for a newfound evangelical pastor because they wanted to hear the glad news of the gospel. The third move in our mission will be, therefore, to lay bare the hidden needs of the spirit, at whatever level people may be, and to bring them to a higher level that engages their own inner resources. There is a time and reason for attending to and filling their mate-rial needs, and also for sensitizing themto higher needs and, with the conviction learned from Jesus, inviting them to higher joy: "But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt 6:33). Review for Religious Reality may seem to fly in the face of this assurance, but can-not negate it altogether. People like Paul, who by God's grace knew a deep joy in penury as well as in plenty (Ph 4:11-13), show the truth of Jesus' words. In declaring that God has a higher claim on people and fills a deeper need than ordinary earthly liv-ing makes them concerned about, Jesus was not being naive. Well aware of the problematic reverses of human life, he was aware too of the privileged reserves of the human spirit. And so he would train people in tested, mature happiness by his winning counsel: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows" (Mt 10:29-31). This stance leads us to the fourth move, namely, to encour-age and fortify people caught in suffering to rise above it and emerge in joy. Would this work in life? It can and does, because it did in Christ's life. Even though all through his public life he encountered opposition from many quarters and faced threats to his life from authorities like Herod, he carried on his work with joyous determination and courage that were the mark of his unflinching faith in God. When his disciples were sorely troubled by his uncertain future, he reassured them emphati-cally: "Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy" (Jn 16:20). He urged them to ask the Father for any-thing in his name and to count on receiving it so that their joy might be complete On 16:24). The fifth move will be to witness to the revelation of how exceptionally suffering people may anticipate their joy in their very suffering (as Jesus himself did), and not in spite of it. At the end of his life, when the worst of his fears were to overtake him, he made a celebration of his last meal, carried himself with joyous strength of an unusual kind, and imparted to his dis-heartened disciples his sure vision of their future mission of suc-cess with words of comfort: "I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete" (Jn 15:1 I). He concluded by asking the Father that his distraught disciples might have his own joy made complete in their very selves (Jn 17:13). From his personal experience he could witness to the joy of the persecuted poor, not only in principle by declaring them Janumy-Februal~ 2000 Dominic ¯ Evangelization as Religious Mission of ,yoy blessed (Mt 5:10-12), but also in practice by bringing public recognition to people who were quietly but surely joyful, such as the poor widow who made an offering to God of all her sav-ings with sure, spontaneous, though unglamorous, joy (Mk 12:41- 44). The most moving story of this kind that I know is this: A woman took a priest to her home to" show him a secret of hers. Hidden in a corner was her bedridden eight-year-old son, with the body of a child and the head of an adult, with a darting tongue like a snake's. Seeing the sight he groaned; but she did not hear it, for she was saying, "Father, I have looked after this child for eight years now. He knows only me. I love him very much. Almost no one knows about it." In speaking thus warmly of her son, she did not hesitate to speak happily about her God as well: "God is good. God is our Father.,,s The more such secrets are known, the more joy will abound on the earth! The sixth move in evangelization is to declare, after due dis-cernment, how the good and glad program of God for humanity is being carried out even at the social level. Christ began his min-istry of joy at Nazareth, making precisely such a discerned dec-laration to his townsfolk. More than Jesus' proclamation of the good plan of God for their welfare, what pleasantly surprised them was the accompanying announcement of its effectiveness then and there in the very workings of their society (Lk 4:21). All through his later ministry, too, he was intent on making peo-ple recognize the growing social implementation of the divine plan carried on through the mediation of works of gladness done by himself (Lk 7:18-22 and 11:20) and like-minded others, whether among his explicit followers or unattached admirers (Mk 7:1-9, 9:11-12 and 38-40, and 12:34; Lk 10:i0-11 and 18-19). In our evangelization, therefore, we need to be on the watch to dis-cern and broadcast the divine reformation and revolution willy-nilly taking place in the world, thanks to our cooperative works, small or big, and those of many, many others, done--in the spirit of the Servant of Yahweh--quietly, steadfastly, and effectively (Mt 12:19-21). Even as we rejoice and lead others to rejoice in the magnalia Dei present in contemporary society, we also know and cannot deny the ungodly contradictions that afflict our web of life covertly and overtly. The best move in this situation--and this is the seventh and last move in our task of joy--is to channel into our world the spirit of the Book of Revelation, namely, a mood of Review for Religious faith and hope: faith in God revealed in the great works of joy already experienced, and hope in God preparing greater works, of which our mind has not conceived but of which there has been an earnest within our experience. One of the most fervent expres-sions of such an experience is the ancient song that nevertheless sounds new: "Though the fig tree does not blossom and no fruit is on the vines, though the produce of the olive fails and the fields yield no food,.yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation" (Hab 3:17-18). Mary, Mission of Joy What is the Magnificat but the above ancient hymn sung in a new melody? Surprised by joy, Mary celebrates God in her new song for all his works of gladness wrought in her and her society of the lowly, down through the ages. She rejoices in her own deeds of happiness, too, which God inspired her to perform for the benefit of the lowly and indeed of all humankind. She inspires and urges all those interested in similar works to become part of the hopeful, joyful movement to which God gives increasing momentum for his glory and our bliss. Following her Son in all matters of life, she precedes us religious like a wise guide in all matters, even in our evangelical mission. Notes ~ See Review for Religious 57, no. 6 (November-December 1998): 605-620. 2 Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, I Say unto You, Vol. 2 (Pune, India: Rajneesh Foundation, 1980), p. 172. 3 Rajneesh, I Say unto You, pp. 217-218. 4 Reddy (1895-1958), a convert, renounced his professorship in a Jesuit college in Tamil Nadu and became a pilgrim beggar and vagrant preacher. See J. Cherupallikat, Witness Potential of Evangelical Poverty in India (Immensee, Switzerland: Nouvelle Revue de Science Missionnaire, 1975), pp. 117-121. s See Leonardo Boff, The Lord's Prayer (Indore, India: Satprakashan Sanchar Kendra, no date), p. 88. January-Feblvtary 2000 finding God ROBERT % COSTELLO Discovering God in Gaps Joseph Cardinal Bernardin influenced millions of peo-ple. As I read accounts of his life and watched the tele-vision coverage of his death and funeral, I was intrigued by a paradox. Cardinal Bernardin wrote, shortly before his death in November 1996, that his last years were the best and worst of times. He said he loved being Joseph to his people and seeking to build bridges between diverse church elements. He told of struggling to free himself from a "need" for success, a "need" to avoid criticism; he told of struggling to trust. He said he was whipsawed by groups asking him to carry their diverse banners. Then came the shocking conspiracy to brand him for sexual misconduct. After displaying immense courage amid the harsh publicity, he gained a growing respect and influence during the slow onset of the cancer that brought his death. Joseph Bernardin's influence peaked in his vulner-ability to the plot to defame him, his care for his false accuser. His example suggests a paradoxical experience in leadership, one which raises engaging questions. Are there implications for church leaders in the cardinal's Robert T. Costello SJ, onetime professor of psychology at Rockhurst College and former provincial superior of his order's Missouri province, currently does retreat work at the Guelph Centre of Spirituality; Box 245, Station Main; Guelph, Ontario; N1H 6J9 Canada. Review for Religious behavior? Is there even a hint for a spirituality for others beneath the dramatic circumstances he found himself in? Several experi-ences of mine have suggested an answer. The Southdown Institute is a residential treatment facility for priests and religious and offers monthly workshops for provincials, diocesan chancellors, and council members return-ing for aftercare with former residents. Asked to be a party to those sessions while on staff, I found myself filtering their expe-riences through memories of previous ~:esponsibilities of mine. This led me to sense that Bernardin's curious enhanced power had meaning for other leaders in the church. The leadership participants spoke of their stress at having to make choices about subordinates while pulled between conflicting values and options. They had to decide between what was empathic and tolerant on the one hand and firm and objective on the other. So it seemed to them. I describe this situation as "being in a gap" between an objective managerial function and an empathic pas-toral inclination. It is as though there is no one to turn to when a decision must be made. The cardinal was in a contradictory sit-uation or gap between defending his personal reputation and addressing what he learned were the spiritual needs of his accuser. I believe that this experiential dilemma, this gap, is worth exploring. What is involved in a church leader's experience of the gaps in administration? What Is a Gap? I define the gap as the tension a leader experiences in choos-ing between opposing goods such as compassion and impartial-ity. Should one postpone a difficult decision until there is more information, follow an intuition, or get on with a community's organizational needs? I consulted journals to better understand a paradox I felt was present in gaps. I also shared my quandary with three peo-ple presumably well versed in gap pressures. A general's assis-tant said that the gap issue deals with a leader's spiritual sensitivity to find God in the stressful situations. An assistant to the late Pedro Arrupe likewise suggested that gaps involve the spiritual meaning one disc6vers in the ministry of leadership. The provincial of a large community recalled being pulled by uncertainty and yet needing to act with determination. These January-Februa~7 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps responses added to my interest in the paradox that unintended influence emerges when a leader experiences a "centrifugal" effect from weakness and strength. Church leadership is a hybrid role of prophet and executive, of inspirational guide and money manager, a role which is bound to involve the kind of gaps we are discussing. It is different from the role of a business or professional leader (Nygren and Ukeritis, 1993). Empathy is an obvious part of the job description, but so is resolute confrontation. Workshop participants at Southdown spoke of pride in their organization's history, joy in their work, but also pain in conflicted relations with members. They said the stress was to be patient and challenging with fragile personalities while remaining focused on pressing tasks like building commu-nity consensus. One participant recalled that a lawyer's advice about a personnel issue seemed heartless but persuasive. Such circumstances required taking valuable time to address inappro-priate behaviors, being supportive of the person but still pursu-ing larger organizational issues. The research data of Nygren, Ukeritis, et al. (1993) broad-ened my notion of the gaps church leaders encounter. The authors uncovered nearly a dozen pressures which both pull and restrain religious leaders. For example, there is a strain between cultural individualism on one hand and the gospel values calling to relationships on the other. They wrote that leaders should be partners in the process of renewal, not initiators. Leaders also needed to establish mutual relationships. Their research found that generosity in some members was being eclipsed by self-pre-occupation. They noted that fewer religious espoused a prefer-ential option for the poor because of responding to personal calls for self-determination, making assignment difficult. This litera-ture, however, did not address an aspect of the leader's experi-ence I sensed in the life of Cardinal Bernardin and recalled, in a way, from my own years as a provincial. I found myself curious about his power. Eventually I had a clearer sense that there were unique tensions or gaps in the power differentials of leaders and community members. I originally had an unexamined, even patriarchal, conception of power: it produces effects. Thus the religious leader buys or sells property, approves vows. She can influence events in for-eign countries. Power makes things happen for individuals and a community and can be a unilateral influence. I also mistakenly Review for Religious suspected that leadership's authority was in the office or person. I believed that ideally Bernardin's considerable power would leave him unaffected if he exercised it adroitly. In .other words, good leadership could, should, and would produce a win-win result. I recalled, though, having nagging doubts after making some deci-sions. Those are what I was coming to recognize and identify as my gap experiences. A second conception of power grew out of curiosity about how the cardinal remained so influential aJ~er the conspiracy to besmirch his reputation collapsed. There was power and influence in how he allowed himself to be unaf-fected. I could understand people admiring his humility, but the pro-found impact his dying had on people puzzled me because I thought media frenzy would stain his integrity and reputation. I finally saw that there was power in how he allowed himself be affected. Power was being both active and passive, doing and receiving. When a Southdown workshop participant recalled a member's death from AIDS and the scandal which developed, I found his empathic reaction powerful. Gradually I saw that this second conception of power was a pas-sive reality that makes church leadership both personally demand-ing and spiritually challenging because church structure expects spiritual meaning to be acknowledged. Authority, then, seemed somehow to be a mutual influence. As the publicity swirled about him, Bernardin's stature seemed to increase with each gentle assertion, of his innocence and his belief that somehow the truth would appear. He pressed on with his plan to develop greater harmony in the Catholic Church of the United States while continuing to empathize with his accuser. He was in a wrenching gap. After he was exonerated of sexual impropriety, he threw himself into work only to be diagnosed With terminal cancer, but that is another story and a different stressful situation. Nygren, Ukeritis, et al. say that leaders viewed their source of power as residing either in themselves or in others. A leader who assumes personal authority is able to be assertive, while a Church leadership is a hybrid role of prophet and executive, of inspirational guide and money manager. January-February 2000 Costello * Discovering God in Gaps leader who considers the source of power to be in others becomes more interdependent or tentative. Note here that these sources of power are not mutually exclusive and inevitably result in the internal struggles (gaps) that are at issue here. For example, a leader who stands on his or her own authority and is objectively assertive in dealing with members may generate resistance and be labeled autocratic. A leader who sees his or her power as derived from others can become paralyzed by members who disagree and resist consensus. A conception of passive power I found most enlightening was that of Bernard Loomer (1976). He described it as relational power. His concept helped me understand the paradox of Cardinal Bernardin: giving and receiving influence. This kind of. power is not an either/or capacity, like deciding to act or not act in a certain way. With Loomer's guidance I will digress on two faces of power: Power results from being influenced and Power preserves rela-tionships. Power as being influenced is not a contradiction. One workshop participant spoke of selling a building that had great symbolic value for her community and openly sharing the pain of it, thus leading the community to "get through it." A second par-ticipant spoke of compassionately confronting the stony silence of a member who violated a fiduciary relationship. Such gap expe-riences are clearly intense--but how are they powerful? The Challenge of Gaps Gaps challenge leaders to expand in "size," that is, to make room in their minds and hearts for opposing realities, such as the limits of human adaptability juxtaposed with situational demands. Gaps stretch leaders, and the power is displayed in the manner in which they embrace what is needed but only possibly achievable. Gaps pull for courage and commitment to the uncer-tain benefit of another, and this edifies and empowers. Cardinal Bernardin exercised power by being mortified on CNN over the accusation thrown at him of sexual abuse. He gent-ly absorbed the humiliation of being asked on television if he was sexually active. He also showed the size of his heart by refusing to countersue his accuser, while at the same time working (in what must have seemed another world) to build consensus among divergent elements in the church. Size is prodigal power because Review for Religious it demonstrates that stress is absorbed for the uncertain benefit of others. The cardinal's power was shown also by his refusing to unleash a legal assault on the conspirators with his available resources and by his believing that this conspiracy could not crush him. Size deals with the interior authority of the person; I find it godlike. A second face of power is manifest in someone who actively preserves relationships. In Loomer's view here, power is the capacity to sustain the mutuality of giv-ing and receiving. Individuals with per-sonal problems often refuse .such mutuality by erecting rigid boundaries as a way of securing whatever power they have. Bernardin's relational power consisted in the months of effort he spent trying to establish a vulnerable connection with his accuser, not in any brandishing of his status, with its vast legal resources that would only have cre-ated a wider gulf. In the end, both men contributed to and were nourished in the relationship because of thee inequalities of power. This was for me a surprising real-ization: one of the greatest influences anyone can have on another is being influenced by that person. Therein lies the power available in gaps. As I spent time musing about this issue, I came finally to a new understanding of some of my leadership experience. I grasped that my deep pain over the shrinkage of religious life was sad-ness over others' "poor discernment" or "lack of courage": "If only those departing had consulted more astute advisors, they could have fallen out of love and remain and resolve their issues" ¯ . . "If only they had more grit, things could be as they were-- and we have such need of their gifts!" I was helpless in the face of diminishment, but also hopeful there could be unimagined surprises in it. And yet I conceived these gap experiences as noth-ing more than stress due to my personal limitations. Cardinal Bernardin believed that meeting his accuser just might set the man free. He actually went to the man, faced his understandable resentment, brought about reconciliation while pressing on with the archdiocese's business. That demonstrated Gaps pull for courage and commitment to the uncertain benefit of another, and this edifies and empowers. Jannary-Februa~y 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps his size. The cardinal seemed detached from the scandal, and it appears his anchor was in spiritual meaning he attached to this ordeal. He "knew" the truth would appear, that he was innocent and it was possible somehow to be vindicated. He recalled that Jesus pledged his life in the interest of others in the face of their mis-understandings and abandonment. This was the quintessential experience of absorbing the stress in a gap for the benefit of a dream or a commitment. It was relational power. The paradox I sensed in Cardinal Bernardin's life connected with two other men whose conversions influenced me: C.S. Lewis and Ignatius Loyola. Lewis wrote that as a child he was "stabbed" by intense feelings of joy. He seemed obsessed with recapturing this experience and spent years trying to re-create it by exploring the riches of the arts and nature. He suspected he was trying to cook up emotional thrills. After years of frustration in this quest, he concluded he was seeking the wrong quarry. He had confused the affective experience of joy with its object. The sought-after emo-tion was only a cheap reminder or a footprint of a presence. An extraordinary realization. There was no other answer because all his introspection dissatisfied him until he accepted that the value of joy was in its object, in something else, in a presence--in God. While admitting I am on uncertain ground, for me Ignatian detachment means that in leadership as well as life we must hold ourselves in a kind of balance before all things, insofar as we have a choice. In the present context, whether a gap ended with pos-itive feelings would not be the issue; rather, it would depend on which alternative led the cardinal to greater self-donation and compassion. This detachment, no matter how experienced inter-nally, calls forth a more loving response to life's circumstances, which is a presence even if experienced as stress. In my view, this interpretation describes the experience of gaps religious leaders often have when detachment produces negative feelings which demand that they increase in size. My mistake was to attribute stressful feelings to the "cost" of leadership, nothing more. I had focused on my experience of stress, not its object. I think, as well, that Ignatius considered the actual feeling in spiritual consolation to be unrelated to a venture's success or failure. This was enlightening in the face of how hard it is to associate the stress or occasional bitterness in gaps with anything like God's confirming presence. I had supposed that God is sup-posed to be present in consolation (involving joy), not in uncer- Review for Religious tainty or regret (due to my painful limitations). I recall a con-soling sense of satisfaction after a community meeting that went well--who would not feel deep joy in a win-win situation? But sit-uations of angry conflict that emphasized one's own poverty in coping with it seemed altogether different, as they did for par-ticipants at the Southdown meetings. As I was learning, though, Ignatian consolation can coexist with stress and uncertainty when there is a conviction of possible benefit for others. The conflicted stress that people in leadership positions experience seems to be located between what is possible for them and what is unimaginable. Leadership routinely deals with possibil-ities and constraints in people or situa-tions, and so gaps are inescapable. My own experience and comments of others at workshops convince me that Ignatian detachment and consolation give these gaps further meaning: gaps are a time of the Spirit's presence in the stress. Ignatian consolation is an affective experience directed toward God and the world and away from self, an experience that can be stressful--as when one hopes that one's own experience of a difficult interpersonal exchange may just possibly be for the good of the person and the situation. No person in history staked as much as Jesus on the merest possibility that fidelity to his convictions could be redemptive for people, notwithstanding experience to the contrary. The stakes were so high because one side of the gap meant Jesus could be deluded while the other side presented only a flimsy possibility that the kingdom he desired would ever eventuate. The stake seemed to involve the exhilaration of wagering it all, staying in the gap, believing and hoping in the possible. From this perspective, the continuing power of Jesus is the unbounded size he mani-fests because there is room in his heart for all. More humbling than finding oneself in such a gap is a sus-picion that some leaders get about themselves. They wonder whether they seek to walk this way of possibility or rather are sought by God to walk it. In my reflection I admitted, without comprehending why, the possibility of their being sought. And Ignatian consolation can coexist with stress and uncertainty when there is a conviction of possible benefit for others. January-February 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps that makes all the difference when they make their stake to walk the way of possibility to the end, because they believe this service will be redemptive., for someone. Just like Christ's stake. References Bernardin, Joseph Cardinal. The Gift of Peace. Chicago: Loyola Press, 1997. Lewis, C.S. Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1956. Loomer, Bernard. "Two Conceptions of Power." Process Studies 6, no. 1 (Spring 1976). Nygren, David J., CM, and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ. "The Religions Life Futures Project: Executive Summary." Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-51. Nygren, David J., CM, Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, et al. "Religious- Leadership Competencies." Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May- June 1993): 390-417. Ordinary Time Hoarfrost ages the discarded Christmas trees. Fog mutes the soul, and dampness chills the heart. In ordinary time we wait, like puffed-out birds, upon a frozen limb of time and seek for solace in the hearing of the Word. Ed Block Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality Ln some parts of the Catholic world, this article may draw w readers and perhaps outright protest. Among some reli-gious today, "Father" as referring to God might well be under-stood as an ideological catchword linking a speaker or writer, regardless of his or her intentions, with a slew of suspected atti-tudes (clustered around "patriarchy") about which questioning and disapproval would likely arise. Confronting Our Experience In such situations the anger evoked by an uncritical refer-ence to God as Father can be intense and highly vocal. A reaction to such anger could itself be a mirror image of the original--but in the opposite direction. "Every action has an equal and oppo-site reaction," as the saying goes. If care is not taken, this coun-tervailing process of action/reaction can spiral out of control and leave members of the believing community "poles apart." In such instances, division and animosity replace the dialogue and mutual respect that should characterize the believing com-munity. We should be saddened by such results, but not surprised. Human beings are weak and fragile. Even with the best of inten- Dennis J. Billy CSSR delivered this paper (here somewhat revised) in spring 1999 at the Institute of Spirituality of the Angelicmn in Rome. His postal address is Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. Janua~y-Febrt~my 2000 Billy * Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality tions, they can easily allow rancor and strife to get the upper hand in their lives. The same holds true for the communities people form, even religious ones. As the world gets smaller and smaller, I would not be surprised if the local Christian commu-nity and the local religious community reflect more and more of these complex and highly charged emotional tensions. Such is the nature of a world where technological advances have made mass communication practically instantaneous and where the communication media purvey religious sentiment for a society increasingly definable as a consumer market. Anything goes, if it will sell--better still if it will sell quickly. Package it well enough and you will get a large enough following to support your ideas. Besides, everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. Right? If so, then we can call God whatever we please. Why not? I would be astonished if, among the readers of this journal, there is not a wide spectrum of strong emotional responses to my topic. Indeed, some of us may experience the full range of these intense emotional reactions in our own hearts. Some of us may have no problem whatsoever about referring to God as Father. Some of us may feel a certain ambivalence about the term and not quite understand why we feel the way we do. Some of us may feel guilty for feeling that way. Some of us may be confused and uncertain and may wonder h6w a simple phrase like "Our Father" can evoke such strong and conflicting emotional reac-tions. And some of us may be dead set against using such a term, regardless of what we say at Mass and regardless of what Scripture and Tradition, the pope, the magisterium, and even Jesus have to say about it. A reason for the vast array of reactions may be the ambiva-lence (and, in some cases, outright hatred) some people harbor toward their own fathers. Social historians speak of the weak-ened role of fatherhood in Western society due to tremendous upheavals brought about by the Industrial Revolution. As Western society became industrialized during the 19th and 20th centuries, the population gradually shifted from rural, agricultural areas to the cities and their outlying areas. Fathers went off to work in fac-tories, sometimes traveled long distances to get there, and returned home tired and hungry at the end of a long day with little energy for anything else. Over the years.this resulted in a culture with largely absent and disengaged fathers, who spent most of their time away from home and who had little direct Review for Religious contact with the inner workings of family life. Their job was to provide shelter and to put bread and butter on the table. Nothing more; nothing less. The image of the distant and detached father reading his evening paper, smoking his pipe, sipping his evening pint, oblivious to the needs of those around him, especially his children, is deeply embedded in many people's minds. In this century, advances in technology alleviated the situation some-what, but have created new demands on people's time and energy. These same advances, moreover, have brought much of the world under the sway of both the positive and the negative influ-ences of Western culture? If that is not enough, some people had fatherless childhoods because of war and disease. Imagine growing up without a father. People may not show it externally, but some of them have grown up feeling devastated, feel-ing abandoned by their fathers and perhaps even by God. Today households exist where the father or at least a strong fatherly influence simply does not exist. One wonders what calling God "Father" might mean in such a home. Of course, when fathers fail to take their roles seriously, when they neglect their children or abuse them with physical and psychological violence, even sexual misconduct, there is another problem about calling God "Father." Tensions grow and family situations worsen. No wonder that some people find it difficult to address God as their Father. Why should they think God would be anything but detached or remote or even violent toward them? How would you feel if you were in their shoes? Perhaps you already are. This is just a sampling of the wide range of feelings our topic can evoke. If we wish to understand what devotion to God the Father means for religious spirituality today, we need at the out-set to recognize and confront the wide range of sad experiences of fatherhood that people have had and do have. If we do not handle these problems regarding human fatherhood, theologians may look into possible new names for God and talk about them engagingly, but the names will very likely fail to make that all- We need to recognize and confront the wide range of sad experiences of fatherhood that people have had and do have. January-February 2000 Billy * Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spiritlutlity important journey from the mind to the heart. Proposed names that seem "theologically accurate" and "politically correct" are not likely ever to fit the mystery which sustains us and the world we live in from one moment to the next. If the words we use for God in prayer are somehow false, then the images they call up and our prayers themselves are likely to go awry. Defining Our Terms What does devotion to the Father mean in religious-life spir-ituality today? We have looked at various tensions to which use of this name for God gives rise in different people. Now we will clarify some of the terms of the discussion. To begin with, I follow Thomas Aquinas's understanding of "devotion" as "a ready willingness to give oneself to the service of God"; it is an act of religion, one of the allied virtues of jus-tice, and manifests itself in people's deep desire to serve God in whatever way asked of them (see ST2a-2ae.82.1 and 2). I use the word Father not in the Roman sense of paterfamilias (that is, "the patriarchal head of a household"), but in the Aramaic sense of "Abba" (that is, "Pap'a") that Jesus used to express the loving, compassionate face of God. This term has deep roots in the Christian psyche and expresses what experts in male spirituality refer to as "the deep masculinity" of God.2 Jesus himself explains this v.ery well in the Gospel of Luke when he says, "Be compas-sionate as your Father is compassionate" (Lk 6:36). By religious I refer to the way of life recognized by the Catholic Church that seeks to follow Christ through life in community and by the pub-lic profession of the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience.3 This way of life has deep roots in Christian history, belongs to the charismatic dimension of the church, and forms an integral part of its life and holiness. By spirituality, in many ways the most elu-sive of the terms I am dealing with, I mean "how individuals or groups understand and carry out the ultimate meaning of their life." It can be discussed on three levels--the experiential, the doctrinal, and the analytical--and embraces both theoretical and concrete, practical issues.4 To quote a circular letter of Joseph W. Tobin, the Redemptorist superior general, "spirituality is con-nected with basic and often unsettling questions: Who are we? Why are we? How are we to live?''s Having clarified 'my terms, I can now express the question Review for Religious posed by my topic in the following way: What are the practical consequences of lifestyle and identity for those of us in the church who seek to give ourselves in service to God, our merciful and compassionate Father, through life in community and the public profession of the evangelical counsels? This question yields no simple solution. It is very difficult and complex, one that holds no instant solution, but must be pondered and contemplated by each community of religious and by each individual religious over and over and over again. I offer some guidelines to help in this process. Naming the Mystery Before we begin to do that, however, we must note the lim-itations of human language and its inability to exhaust the mys-tery of the divine. Language conceals as much as it reveals, perhaps even more. As Pseudo-Dionysius reminds us in The Divine Names: "God is . . . known in all things and as distinct from all things. He is known through knowledge and through unknowing. Of him there is conception, reason, understanding, touch, perception, opinion, imagination, name, and many other things. On the other hand he cannot be understood, words can-not contain him, and no name can lay hold of him.''6 The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§370) affirms this when it reminds us that we are created in God's image and not vice versa: "God is pure spirit in which there is no place for the difference between the sexes. But the respective 'perfections' of man and woman reflect something of the infinite perfection of God: those of a mother and those of a father and husband." In other words, the names we give God express something of who God is, but also fall infinitely short. Kataphatic (or "posi-tive") theology and apophatic (or "negative") theology go hand in hand. God is "Abba, Father," as Jesus teaches us, but also "our loving Mother," as the 14th-century anchoress Julian of Norwich reminds us in her Showings, and "inmost ground," as Meister Eckhart proposes in his German works.7 God can be referred to by these and a host of other religious appellations, some of which we can readily identify with, others not so readily. Perhaps it is only the "coincidence of opposites" which best expresses the mystery of God, who is known in the midst of our unknowing and who cannot be confined by our meager attempts to express the inexpressible. Janua~. -February 2000 Billy ¯ Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality Theological language is fundamentally analogical in nature. That is to say, any word we use when speaking about or naming God expresses, at one and the same time, both a proportional likeness and difference. This holds true even for the word which the Word made flesh himself used to address God. Jesus calls God "Abba, Father," not to tie God down, define him, create an image of him in our heads, or (worse yet) exhaust his mystery, but to assure us that compassion and love rather than confusion and chaos lie at the heart of existence. This is precisely what the Spirit tells us when it cries out "Abba, Father" deep within our hearts and intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words (see Rm 8:15-27). Something rings true in our hearts when we call God "Abba, Father." We know that God is very much more than this two-syllable word can convey, but somehow it seems all right. We sense that God hears us, understands us, and assures us that all shall be well. A Revealed Religion Why is this so? We already have a received a glimpse of the reason above when, referring to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§370), we noted that we are created in God's image, and not vice versa. Notice the passive voice. We are created. It is not we who do the creating. God is not a function of our language and systems of thought. We do not somehow "create" God by the names we give him or the theologies we concoct to express his divine mystery. If this were true, then theology itself would just be a sophisticated form of anthropomorphizing. In fact, God takes the initiative and reveals to us the nature of the divine. The ini-tiative is not for us to take; we are receivers. God uses human instruments, of course, which themselves are weak and fallible, but he takes the initiative. We must not forget that Christianity is a revealed religion. When it comes to naming God, it recognizes that human reason and human imagination can only go so far. On our own, all we can come up with is the recognition of the weakness of human lan-guage to express the inexpressible and the necessity of using many names so as to

Karen B. Lofgreen, May 9, 2014 ; The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ; The following is an oral history interview with Dr. Karen Lofgreen conducted on May 9, 2014 by Ruby Licona. Karen discusses her time at Weber State as a student from 1951 to 1953 and her experiences as a professor in the Teacher Education department from 1979 to 2005. ; 41p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Karen B. Lofgreen Interviewed by Ruby A. Licona 9 May 2014 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Karen B. Lofgreen Interviewed by Ruby A. Licona 9 May 2014 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in University Archives. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Lofgreen, Karen B., an oral history by Ruby A. Licona, 9 May 2014, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Karen B. Lofgreen May 9, 2014 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Dr. Karen Lofgreen conducted on May 9, 2014 by Ruby Licona. Karen discusses her time at Weber State as a student from 1951 to 1953 and her experiences as a professor in the Teacher Education department from 1979 to 2005. RL: Good morning. Today is May 9, 2014 and we are meeting with Karen Lofgreen who came to Weber State in 1979 and retired a few years ago and is well and truly missed. My name is Ruby Licona and I am on the faculty in the Stewart Library at Weber State University. Karen, we are very thankful that you are able to meet with us today despite the weather and all the other obstacles. Welcome. KL: Thank you. RL: So, you came here in 1979, were you originally from Ogden? KL: Born and raised in Ogden—one of seven Blair children. Our parents believed in Weber College and although two or three of us had scholarships to other universities, all seven Blair children graduated from Weber College. I had a full tuition scholarship and it was $51.00 or $17.00 a quarter [Appendix Pg. 1 & 2]. I was employed by all of the coaches in the Athletic Office, plus Lawrence Burton, who was Director of Alumni Relations. It was such a fun job. I typed dupliMATS for the National Junior College Athletic Association's (NCAA), monthly publication. I made $15.00 in the Athletic Office and $20.00 a month for typing that publication. RL: It was called dupliMAT? 1 KL: DupliMATS. You used a stationary typewriter and the form was the dupliMAT. RL: Oh okay, it was the name of the form not the name of the process. KL: A dupliMAT was what you typed on. You fed it into a manual typewriter and you couldn't make a mistake because there was no way to correct it. Later, I used a new selectric typewriter with a correction key and that was a wonderful improvement. I graduated from Weber College in 1953 and attended BYU for one year and I graduated from Utah State. I became an elementary teacher in 1954. In the 1960's when the Teacher Education Department was awarded a Carnegie Foundation Grant to write a new teacher education program the faculty moved into the dorms for one year to collaborate on the new program. Five of us, who were public education teachers, came on campus and taught classes for the year. I also taught two summers for Olive McCarthy, a WSU faculty member who wanted to take a sabbatical during those summers. Olive taught the methods courses in art, music and social studies. I loved teaching those classes. RL: This was still in the Teacher Education Department? KL: Yes. Then, in 1979, I was called by Luan Ferrin, Elementary Education Department Chair, who said that Olive McCarthy was retiring and he asked me to apply for the job. I had, during the interim of the time, received a master's degree from BYU, so I began up with a master's degree, but was hired at the time as an assistant professor. You wouldn't hear of that now. RL: No, you have to have a terminal degree for that now. 2 KL: That's exactly right. If a terminal degree is granted in that field. So, I began in June of 1979 in Teacher Education and it was such fun. Caseel Burke, was the Dean of the College of Education and was a wonderful, outstanding leader. We would sit in a faculty meeting—we were only a faculty of seven in elementary education at that time—and Caseel could synthesize into two minutes a 45 minute meeting. He was a wonderful, wonderful leader. Burdett Johnson was the Elementary Education Chair and I reported directly to him. That first year I can remember having a dental appointment, so I went to Dr. Burdett and I said, "Dr. Burdett, I have a dental appointment, is it alright if I go a little early today." He said, "Karen, you're no longer in public education, you're in charge of your life here, so you don't have to ask the principal for permission to leave early." So, I learned a lot. Helena Watson was a faculty member, along with Cordell Perkes, Jimmy Merrill, Rich Blake, Luan Ferrin and Ruth Gardner, and we ran the elementary program. Secondary faculty was Blaine Parkinson, Harley Adamson, Evan Memmott, Blair Lowe, Florence Barton, Dave Cox, Keith Burnett, and Earl McCain [Appendix pg. 3]. RL: That was quite a bit larger than— KL: It was a larger department than ours. Most of secondary faculty specialized in one subject and most of elementary faculty taught at least three. Our staff at that time consisted of Lucy Isaacson and Marian Hines. Marguerite Favero was the Dean's secretary. Evan Christensen was in the library. I think he served in that capacity for nearly 40 years. Janet Lane, Kathleen Newman, Linda Olmsted, who is still a department secretary, and Sharon Allred, who later took Kathleen's 3 place, ran the audio visual lab. It was a wonderful group of folks. We had the Individualized Learning Program (IDP), which really meant that the students worked at their own speed. That's the one that the faculty wrote for the Carnegie Grant. It was an individualized approach to education and for the student who was self-motivated, it was a wonderful program. If the student depended on the classroom lecture and the rote feeding of the faculty, that student didn't do as well in the program. RL: So it was more like the English program at Oxford where you have a mentor, but you work at your own rate. KL: Yes. Our classes were extremely small with about 15 students. I had the best of both worlds because I taught college students and supervised student teacher where I was in public classrooms at least one day each week. I thought how much more meaningful it would be for our students if we could meet in the public school during the quarter rather than on campus. Since I didn't want to change schools every quarter, I arranged with the principals to be in their school for the academic year. I taught the university students lesson planning and methodology and then taught a classroom of elementary students where my students observed. The next day we would evaluate my lesson and the university students would write their lesson plans, peer teach them, receive feedback and then teach the students in the elementary classroom where I would observe and evaluate them. When we moved to semesters, I had more time to teach and observe. I was the first faculty to teach classes off campus in a public school setting. The students in these classes were seniors and they were very serious about 4 teaching and doing it well. As older faculty retired and new faculty members were hired, many of them did not agree with the individualized approach and slowly the old textbook method crept back and the IDP program was phased out. RL: But they still do field teaching. KL: Students do 150 hours of field experience before they do student teaching, so they're in the field a lot as a declared major. I had a tremendous professional career on Weber's campus. When Val and I were students from 1951 through 1953, we had about 750 students and we knew every faculty member and most of the students. I worked in the athletic office and President Henry Aldous Dixon's office was almost directly across from mine. My sister, Betty Bond, was assistant registrar to Clarice Hall and she was in the office next door. I can remember my sister pulled me out of class one day and she said, "Do you know how close you are to graduating with highest honors," and I said, "No." She said, "You have to have straight A's this quarter." I said, "Really?" She said, "Yes," So, with her encouragement we were able to pull that off. It was a delightful time to be a Wildcat and then to come up here as a full-time faculty. It doesn't get much better than that. RL: Now, when you came up here, who was the president then, Dr. Brady? KL: Yes. I served under Dr. Rodney Brady, Dr. Stephen Nadauld, Dr. Paul Thompson, and then Dr. Ann Milner. RL: You had four pretty good administrators right there. KL: Yes I did. I became very well acquainted with all of them. 5 RL: All were very approachable. KL: Oh, very approachable, I should say. RL: Now, who was Dean? KL: Caseel Burke was our Dean when I came and then I served with Dr. Blaine Parkinson, Dr. Richard Jones, and Dr. David Green. Dr. Jack Rasmussen, who been a faculty member left for North Dakota to become a Dean. When he got word that Dean Green was retiring, he called me and said, "Is this true?" I said, "Yes. Put your hat in the ring." We had a fun laugh because when we were hiring him as a faculty member we'd never met and I had to go to the airport with a sign that said, "Dr. Rasmussen." It was hard for me to do that. So, we laugh about that often. I served under quite a few Presidents and Deans. RL: You gave a list of people. Did any of them take a mentoring role when you came up here or were you advanced enough in your career that you didn't feel like you needed that? KL: Higher education is a lot different than public education. In public ed, you're working with a principal every day and that's about as far as you go unless the superintendent calls a meeting or he happens to come in the classroom. So, of course, the Dean was very close to us and each of these Deans, especially Caseel, mentored me well. I learned so much from him. They all played their role, I served on various committees with each President and occasionally he would come in our building, so I knew each one personally. RL: Were you ever involved with the Faculty Senate? 6 KL: Twice. I served two terms on the Faculty Senate. I enjoyed that. I served on the Executive Council for one term. The executive committee met separately and decided the agenda and topics that would be discussed in the Senate meetings. RL: They also decide all the things for the committees to consider during the year and so forth. KL: True. I had forgotten that part. RL: They're very—it's political, but it's also very organizing and influential. KL: And Tom Burton. RL: Oh he was a sweetheart. KL: Tom was a student body officer at Weber College with Val. Val was president and "Honest Tom, the people's choice," that's how he ran his campaign—was the treasurer. I taught Tom's children in elementary school. I think he served at least two terms as Faculty Senate president. RL: I think it might have been three. KL: It could have been. I so enjoyed having Tom as the president of Senate and we understood each other. RL: Did you serve as a liaison for any of the major committees or anything? KL: Yes, of course, The National College Accreditation for Teacher Education (NCATE) was a big thing that we had to go through every five years. We had two departments, elementary and secondary until we merged and became one known as the Teacher Education Department. I was Elementary Chair during one 7 of those reviews and it was a tremendous task to fulfill the requirements of the review, serve as an administrator and also teach a nine hour load. When Janice Fauske became department chair, she gave members of the NCATE committee three hours load and that helped considerably. During my tenure, I served on every NCATE review. I also taught classes in the master's program when it was taught jointly with Utah State. We had concern with this arrangement because we taught most of the classes and Utah State always wanted a bigger piece of the action. RL: And they got the credit. KL: They surely did. We fought the battle with the Board of Regents and although I didn't fight at that level, I fought at the local level to get that changed because we had a very impressive faculty and we were capable and willing to teach the classes. RL: That was still in the days of all the politics where it was flat out stated, "Weber College will stay Weber College and will never grant graduate degrees." Then the teacher ed program took off. I know when I came in 1990, we had three master's programs and that has blossomed and bloomed to quite a few more by now. KL: Yes, we laid the ground work for the masters' programs on campus. RL: And I think when I first got here, there was still a Utah State office over in one of the—I don't remember if it was in the tower or one of the dorms, but it was still here at that time. 8 KL: They wanted a presence on our campus. They still do. I fought for Ogden money to stay in Ogden. I came from a family who believed in Ogden. In 1955, when American Food Store opened on 40th and Washington, they had a contest. The contest winner would receive a new 1955 Chevrolet Station Wagon. You had to write a jingle and you had to estimate volume sales for a year. My father was a salesman for Swift & Company and he sold all of the meat to the local stores. We had that number, and that's a big volume in a grocery store. Val and I wrote a jingle, "We purchase locally, try never to shirk, for buying in Ogden provides us with work." And we won. RL: Oh, you won a new car! KL: We were married in 1954 and bought a new 1954 Buick, so we sold the 1955 Chevrolet and paid off the Buick. I was born and raised with a daily diet of, "We have to support locally," and I still believe that. So, I have a daughter who graduated from our elementary education program and then came back for a master's degree. I was the first female faculty to hood her daughter and that was quite an honor for me. Blair, our son, has an associate degree from Weber and of course Val and I have associate degrees, so we are a Weber State family. RL: You bleed purple. KL: We do bleed purple and I should have worn purple. I didn't know we'd be on camera or I would have worn the school colors! RL: Well, and you're still very active with the Alumni Association, aren't you? 9 KL: Not as much as I have been. I served on the Alumni Board in 1964 when we were instrumental in laying the groundwork for a four year college. That was a wonderful time. Reva Blair was my cousin and she was Chair that year and we fought hard for the four year status. RL: Well, I had seen you and Val at the Dixon Awards. KL: We support as many Weber State functions as possible. We knew President Dixon. Val served as student body president under President Dixon. RL: He got up and spoke under that hat. KL: He did, he told some fun stories, didn't he? RL: Yes he did. KL: He was part of the group that fought when they wanted the college to revert back to the LDS church. He told that story this year, so you're right. RL: Well, because, Weber had been public for many decades. KL: I can't recall. RL: But they wanted to give it back to the church and there was an uprising. KL: Absolutely, which there needed to be and it worked out. I've seen a lot of interesting things. I was here when we became a University. That was a wonderful event to see happen. RL: Oh that big, beautiful meeting that we had where everybody marched. KL: I had forgotten that. Weber State is home to a lot of wonderful people and, you know, a year ago I received an Honorary Degree (Appendix pg. 4) and my 10 daughter-in-law's parents attended from Salt Lake and they're very University of Utah oriented. They've had many grandchildren graduate from Utah State and from BYU, so they've attended a lot of commencements. They came up afterward and said, "This was so delightful." I said, "That's what we're all about here." It's a hometown feeling and I love that about Weber. RL: It is. I think there are people in Salt Lake who need to get past the whole, "Weber High" mentality because Weber State is no longer what it was when it first came up here on this campus. It has grown tremendously and it is no longer a community college or a college, it has become a full-fledged university. The fact that this is very much a teaching campus, I think makes a big difference. KL: Smaller class loads and full professors teaching classes is a song to sing and a sermon to preach! RL: Well, you mentioned earlier that you had been hired as an assistant professor which wouldn't necessarily happen now. I think a lot of things like that have changed over the years and someone else mentioned that pretty much you have to have a terminal degree depending on what field you're in. I know that with librarianship, a master's degree is considered a terminal degree, but we have several people on the faculty here with doctorates because people, if they're worth their salt, are going to want to go on and get more education regardless of whether they can get by on a master's or not. KL: I was fortunate because with a master's degree, I also became an associate professor. They felt that I was valuable to the department because of my 19 years in public education. So, fun story! Lucy Isaacson and Marian Hines were 11 responsible for the Weber Individualized Learning Kit (WILKIT) center. Students were issued a punch card showing the amount they owed for WILKIT purchases. When the card was full, it was taken to the treasurer's office where the student would pay money for the WILKIT packets. Lucy worked in the center for several years and when she retired I was in charge of her retirement reception that was held in the Sage Room. Tom Day, from the Department of Child and Family Studies, came up to me and said, "Are you available today?" I said, "What for?" Tom said, "Well, there are a group of us going to BYU to interview for a doctoral program and we need one more person to fill the college van. I said, "Oh my gosh," I hadn't even thought about that, so I called Val and told him that I was going to BYU with them. We took a written test and then we were interviewed. Within a month, I received notification that I had been accepted. I can remember that next Sunday sitting at the kitchen table—we had two children and the four of us were sitting there and I didn't know if I really wanted to accept. So, I said to the family, "What shall I do?" Of course, they said, "Mom, you just do whatever you feel comfortable doing." I asked, "Would you think any less of me if I decided not to do this?" They all started eating. I had my answer. RL: Didn't get a response, did you? Or maybe you got a response, but it was nonverbal. KL: It was a great program! I joined a cohort group consisting of six students from California and eight students from Utah. Our northern Utah group drove to BYU every Friday and had classes Friday evening until about 10:00 p.m. and all day Saturday and then we'd drive back. We were on campus in the summers and I 12 took a year sabbatical while I was working on a dissertation. Weber was very good to me because even being on sabbatical I still got a percentage of my salary. So, I finished in 1988 and then became a full professor in 1991. It was so worth it. The degree added $500 to my salary! It cost me $30,000 to get the degree. But, it paid dividends in terms of what I did in my professional life and my church life. RL: How so? KL: I served on the Primary General Board. So, when I did training—and we were worldwide, of course—and they would introduce me as Sister Lofgreen, a professor at Weber State University. RL: Dr. Karen Lofgreen of Weber State University. KL: Absolutely. Then it was surprising how many people would come up and say, "I went to Weber, or I lived in Ogden." I believe that was the main reason I got the degree because I don't think it changed my teaching. I was still a teacher who believed in a very practical approach. However, the experience gave me a broader spectrum of knowledge and new innovative teaching methods. Today I'm glad I did it. RL: That's good. Now, the students, when you first got here, I would imagine they've changed over the years. Were there things that you saw as you were here as far as changing student body? KL: I always felt that the majority of our students were here to learn. Occasionally, you would get a student where you had that feeling, "This is a bunch of garbage, 13 I don't need this stuff, just give me the diploma and let me go in the classroom." That was very seldom. I don't think students have changed too much except for the outside pressure of today's world. We still had many in teacher ed who were single parents—most of our students worked, although they should have only worked 20 hours a week, in some instances it had to be more than that. I think that the whole dynamics in the lives of our students have changed. I've been retired nine years and I would dare say that I didn't see a great deal of change in the thirst for knowledge after 27 years than I did when I first came. We were expected to keep up with the times in terms of what was going on in state mandates. I taught my art, music, creativity, and gifted classes mainly centered around what was expected of students when they became classroom teachers. So, I saw dedicated students. I saw a lot of respect for teaching and teachers while I was here. I'll say that in my 27 years a very infinitesimal group of students gave me that attitude, "Just let me out." RL: Are there students from over the years that you keep in contact with? KL: Yes! I am still invited to some missionary farewells of students that I taught whose children are leaving to serve LDS missions and occasionally, wedding receptions. Recently, I received a letter from a graduate of Weber State, who was a former sixth grade student at T.O. Smith Elementary School. She had moved away and become a curriculum development specialist in a district in Seattle and just wanted to renew some memories about sixth grade. It was fun when I traveled for Weber State and presented at conferences I seldom 14 presented that one of our graduates wasn't there. It was interesting to see how far they had progressed professionally and how far away they had moved. RL: So like National Association meetings and so forth? KL: Yes. Dr. Ann Ellis and I did a lot of presentations worldwide on gifted education. Of course, my strong field was creativity and that's a wonderful field. Faculty used to tease me, "Look at Karen, she teachers art, music, creativity, and gifted," I said, "You all made poor choices. I made the good choices." RL: You're bound to come up with some good students in that. KL: You know, the creativity class was an interesting class. It was an all-day class that met the five days during semester break. We began at 8:00 a.m. and we went straight through until 5:00 p.m. In fact, I didn't want to let them off campus during the noon hour, so before the first Monday, I had my class roll, I would call in five students and say, "You're in charge of lunch on Monday. You'll have a five dollar budget and you'll have 22 students." Of course, they had to furnish some things too. As I got into class the first day then I organized lunch groups for the rest of the week. During the week the students never slept. We still talk about that when I get together with students who took the creativity class. It was very hands-on because they finished the week with methods and materials to teach music, art, language arts, science, math and also creative ways to teach them. RL: Now, did you develop this course? 15 KL: Helena Watson developed the course first and then I took it from there. We had a Ukulele program. We played ukulele the first half hour in the morning and I only taught seven chords, but if you know seven chords you can play a lot of songs. RL: You can fake your way pretty well. I remember in first grade being in a rhythm group and knocking two sticks together. KL: We also did rhythm band instruments. RL: It made an impression. I was in first grade a long time ago. KL: We played rhythm band and orff instruments—those are small xylophones that most of the public schools now have. It was a rigorous course, but I taught it during my time. We finished the semester on Friday and then I picked up creativity the next Monday during break. The students could register for it and they had completed three hours of semester credit before the next semester even started. When I served in Salt Lake was when I started teaching creativity on my time. When Helena taught creativity, it was taught one afternoon per week for three hours all quarter. I talked to the Dean and I said, "I would like to buy some load time," because I needed to be in Salt Lake every Thursday. We worked out the schedule and I was able to perform my board duties. The kids loved the class because they didn't have to worry about other assignments during that week. RL: They got their time in and they got their money's worth. KL: We were able to buy 40 ukuleles. Then, we had enough money that we were able to buy cases for them. So, over in the education building, there are 40 ukes. 16 I met the professor who teaches creativity at this year's story-telling festival and I asked him, "Do you use the ukuleles?" He said, "Not yet, but I plan on it." I hope he does. In the public schools ukulele is a fifth grade experience, but if a teacher can play ukulele, they can accompany many of the songs, especially in the lower grades. RL: That sounds like a fun venture. KL: You know, the faculty and staff never knew what I was going to do in the Education Building. After we practiced a while we took our ukes (Appendix pg. 5) and went down the halls and in the classrooms where teachers were teaching and we'd play our ukes and sing a song or two. They all accepted that as they knew what I was like. RL: Now, as far as teacher ed. What were the effects of developing technology? KL: It didn't have a lot to do with my courses. RL: You were able to keep it pretty traditional? KL: In my courses, although I remember Evan Memott used to have the AV lab and he had a computer and that was it. Now, that whole area where he was is a computer center. I became a computer literate in the early 1980's. Cordell Perkes was my boss and one day he came to my office and said, "You have excellent typing skills, I'm going to put a computer in your office" I said, "No you're not." He said, "Oh yes I am." He continued, "Let me tell you something, Karen. When you learn the computer, you'll toss that selectric typewriter right out the window." I laughed at him and said, "Oh, this is the greatest typewriter on Earth." Soon after, 17 Cordell put an Apple computer in my office. I was the first faculty to have the little Apple with the tiny screen. RL: Seven inch screen I think. KL: Was it? I can't remember, but it was the tiniest thing I'd ever seen and that little tiny keyboard! I said to Val, "Oh my word, I don't know if this is for me." Of course, then as we became iMac savvy—and our department was very good, I had a great computer and every two or three years it was upgraded. I'm an Apple person at home. RL: You got to the big iMacs with the big 19 inch screens and the library just recently had a grant and we now have some iPads in about a seven inch and a ten inch, so it goes round about doesn't it? KL: It does. I just have a new iPad that I'm breaking in and it's tiny. I haven't iPhoned yet, but it probably is coming. RL: Got to keep up with the times, it keeps you young. KL: That's true. RL: Now, outside of teacher ed, what kinds of other things were you involved with on campus? You were on the Faculty Senate. Were you involved in any of the strategic planning things in the early 1990's? KL: Yes I was and Tom Burton was a big part of that. There were two goals that I had. One was to get an honorary degree for Wilma Gross. Wilma was the librarian on the old campus. When we moved from the old campus to the new campus, she hauled the complete library in her car. I don't know how many trips 18 she made between 25th Street and Harrison Boulevard. Did you know Wilma at all? RL: I did not. I think I met her once. KL: She was the most wonderful woman and you talk about professionalism, library skills and kindness. I served on the Honorary Degree Committee three or four times and a lot of the younger faculty had no idea who this woman was, but I just kept repeating my story and she received an honorary degree. The tears rolled down her cheeks the morning they hooded her. The second was to name the education building. When I started my crusade the education building was twenty some years old and never had been named. Well, you tell me what teachers we can ask that can afford to give enough money to have a building named after them. Can't do it. So, I had an idea, thanks to Bill Critchlow, who said, "You know the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival?" I said, "Oh, very well, because I know Karen Ashton as she served on the primary board with me." He said, "Why don't we start a storytelling festival and have the Ashton's buy in with the underlying reason being to name the education building the David O. McKay Education Building because Allan Ashton, Karen's husband, is David O. McKay's grandson." In 1994, a group of us went down and met with Karen Ashton and said, "Would you come up to Weber State and give us ideas on how to start a storytelling festival?" Which she did. I don't know when we approached the Ashtons for a donation, but they gave us a quarter of a million dollars. David O. McKay was a principal of Weber Academy and he taught here and he lived in Huntsville. So, that's what started the Storytelling Festival. They wanted me to 19 chair it and they said, "We'd like the first one to be in the fall of 1995." This was Christmas of 1994. I said, "I can't do it, it's too big and if we do it, we want to do it right so let's aim for fall of 1996." We pulled it off. RL: Now, you worked with the library on that. KL: I worked with Diane Wismer. KL: The Timpanogos Festival does everything in tents, so we wanted to use tents. Rental on the three tents was $30,000 bucks. RL: And that was only for like three days wasn't it? KL: Yes, it was a three day festival. We put it on the lower quad just prior to the starting of school in September. The night before it rained and there was a terrible wind. Val got out of bed, put on his street clothes and said, "I'm going over to check those tents." They were fine, but there was so much water the next morning, plus the main broke on the lower quad, so we had that water too. It was horrible. RL: Everybody was sloshing around, needed boots. KL: Oh yes! I thought the festival would be a one-year event, but it just celebrated its 18th year. It has grown in national recognition and it also serves as a recruitment tool for Weber State. That first year we put on a first class festival and were $40,000 in the red. President Paul Thompson said, "Karen, this could really be an outreach for our whole community. We need to continue this." He also told me that the University would pay our deficit and we would start the next year, debt free. 20 The festival steering committee agreed that we needed financial assistance from the community. We started raising money by asking Norm Skanchy to do an original watercolor that depicted storytelling. It took him most of the summer to complete the artwork and since he didn't charge us for his service, we hoped we could sell the original for some seed money for the festival. My sister, Maggie Favaro, is a relative to Jerry Moyes, who owns Swift Trucking Company and lives in Arizona. She called him on his cell phone and she said, "Jerry! Do I have a deal for you!" He replied, "How much do you need, Maggie?" She replied, "Five-thousand dollars." He asked, "What for?" Maggie explained, "You need to buy an original water color painting." He said, "A painting for $5000 must be quite a painting!" Maggie explained the reason and Jerry said, "The check will be in the morning mail." Jerry gave the original to Maggie and during this year's Storytelling Dinner that watercolor was presented to Norman Skanchy. He was thrilled! We not only sold prints of the painting, but Norm also designed the storytelling pin that many people have purchased. We also started the Storytelling Dinner that has helped with expenses. RL: At the Egyptian. KL: No. The first year we held a dinner for the festival steering committee, national storytellers and sponsors in the yard of Dr. Jack and Bonnie Wahlen. The second year we moved to the Eccles Conference Center and advertised to the public. About 100 attended the event and we included stories from the four national storytellers. This has been a very successful event for the University community. 21 The next year between the support of local schools, WSU, and private donors, the festival was nearly paid for when the doors opened. After the second festival, Dean Hurst called me and said that the Stewart Foundation would pay all expenses for the nest year's event. I was ecstatic! When the steering committee was informed of this, they voted to save the Stewart money and through WSU investments gain some interest on the money. The festival was also making a little money each year and with adding this to the Stewart donation it was our intent that someday we could pay the expenses of a national storyteller to come on campus for a year. To the best of my knowledge, that account has increased to where we can bring a national storyteller to campus and have him or her teach college classes and also work with public school students and educators and with parents. The festival continues to grow and has expanded to the Davis campus. The attendance at last year's festival was just over 14,000. RL: The family evening is always so well attended. Children just love it. KL: Isn't it fun? We patterned that after Timpanogos with our milk and animal cracker cookies. Remember Elaine Sandoval over in Continuing Education? She was always in charge of the refreshments and she'd go to stores and get them to donate animal crackers and milk. That was such a fun thing. We honored Karen J. Ashton by presenting the Karen J. Ashton award to a person who had significant influence in terms of either the festival or storytelling. This year Val and I attended some of the story sessions. I M.C.'d two sessions and then we went to the storytelling dinner because the Karen J. 22 Ashton Award was presented to Norm Skanchy, which I should have thought of years ago. If anyone deserved that award it was Norm for all that he did. RL: For all the ideas and— KL: Oh yes and he never charged us a cent. So, probably my claim to fame is the Wilma Gross library degree. When she died, at the viewing her honorary degree, hood and citation were displayed. It meant so much to her. Our building was 33 years old when it finally got a name. We had a big celebration that day. Hundreds of people attended. President Gordon B. Hinckley came from Salt Lake and spoke about President McKay. When we were planning the dedication event, we had a vice president who said, "Oh, we'll just have it in the Wattis building, to which Leslie Moore kept saying, "Think bigger, think bigger." The Browning Center was booked and I received a call from Leslie about ten days before the event and she was laughing and she said, "Guess what." I said, "You don't have to tell me. The prophet's coming and we get the Austad Auditorium." She said, "Absolutely." It was standing room only and we had to turn people away. They dedicated the building in the Browning Center and then everyone come over to the Education Building for tours and refreshments. I was an escort that day and John and Tita Lindquist were in my group. We had really spruced up the building. We had beautiful art and everything was repainted and John said, "Karen, this looks like a brand new building." I said, "John, this building is 33 years old." He said, "I never would have believed it." So, the Storytelling Festival brought about the naming of our building and that meant a lot to me. RL: So that was your big accomplishment. 23 KL: When you're 72 and you've taught 46 years, it's time to hang it up and go and do other things. So that's what I've been doing. RL: What have you been doing since you left? KL: Right now I'm serving on the Capital Campaign for the College of Education. We were instrumental in securing funds for the Boyd K. and Donna Packer Center that was dedicated last May 2013. I was so delighted with the 125th kickoff. RL: Things went off really well, didn't they? KL: I wish everyone could have attended. I talked to Karen Hurst and she said they had to turn people away. But, if you weren't a committed Wildcat before, that night had to do it. Jim Christian wrote and MC'd the program and it was masterfully done. So, I just keep a little finger in the pot. Right now I'm helping the Ogden Symphony Ballet organization to try to induce a younger audience to attend the symphonies and ballets. If you go to the Masterworks Symphonies, those attending are all my age or older and we don't have young people supporting it. So, we're trying to come up with an idea on how we can make that happen. We don't want to lose symphonic music. Good land, we have one of the finest orchestras in the United States. So I serve a little bit here and there. RL: Didn't I see recently that they had some pop performers or popular music performers? KL: They have three pop concerts a year and they each sell out. RL: Is it a younger audience? 24 KL: Oh absolutely. It's Weber State and that 20, 30, 40 age group. A week ago Thursday, they did the music of the sixties. I don't know how the Pops concerts could get any better. Val and I have had symphony tickets ever since we've been married which will be sixty years this fall. The orchestra used to be at Ogden High School and when they moved to the Browning Center, Val and I were one of the first to buy our tickets. So, we've had a rich life. We have two children, Launa lives in Mountain Green and she teaches school in Davis County. She and Reed are the parents of our three oldest grandchildren and our son, Blair, is a pilot with American Airlines and that little family lives in St. Louis. His oldest son is graduating from high school next week. We leave a week from tomorrow to go back for his graduation. RL: Now, was Val also up here at Weber State? KL: Val Lofgreen? RL: Yes. KL: He was a student body president. RL: Oh, but I mean he wasn't on the faculty or anything. KL: Oh no. Val worked for the Department of Defense. He ran their computer system. RL: I didn't know if you had made it a family affair. KL: No, Val has a degree in chemistry and math and he did graduate work in chemistry and then earned an MBA. He taught accounting at night for three or four years at Weber. Other than that, we've kept him pretty busy at home with a wife who had to commute for every degree. 25 RL: Now, you said you had two main goals— KL: Two major goals. RL: Two major goals. Did you have other goals that you weren't quite able to attain? KL: I'm goal oriented. One of your questions was do you have any regrets? RL: I guess that's what I'm trying to get at without using the word 'regrets'. KL: I'll tell you what I wrote. "What regrets do you have? None. If I had it to do over again I wouldn't change a thing." As I spoke at some of our faculty member's funerals—Florence Barton, for instance, retired the 12th of June—wonderful English professor—I spoke at her funeral in November. Burdett Johnson, Luan Ferrin, Ruth Gardner, Helena Watson, Betty Nowak, to name a few, were instrumental in bringing about the growth in teacher education that we enjoy today. Those of us who are still around have an annual fall social in the beautiful yard of Marlene and Keith Burnett. It reminds each of us of those days when we taught together, played together and most certainly laughed together. Weber State was very good to me. Last night as I went through papers in my desk I found an envelope with each of my salary contracts dating back to 1981. I don't know what I did with the 1979 and 1980 contracts. But I do know that my starting salary in 1979 was $18,000. I can remember how excited I was when Burdett called and said, "You have the job and your starting salary will be $18,000." That year I would have made $17,500 in public education, so a nice $500 bonus was great. RL: In those days, $500 was nothing to sneeze at. 26 KL: The largest raise I ever had at Weber was seven percent. Most raises are in the one's two's three's, and sometimes a four, but one year we had a seven percent. It was a wonderful job for me and I don't think I would have hung it up, but my husband had retired and he thought we should serve a mission for our church, so away we went. RL: Well, it's good to be able to talk to someone who has such fond memories and who donated so much time and effort to some of the really successful programs we've had here. KL: Thank you. RL: Thank you for taking the time to come and be with us. KL: Well, I hope it's worth your time. RL: It's the stories, the little stories. You know about storytelling festivals and stuff and it's the little stories that make up the personality of the place and you've added to that. KL: Thank you. Each year Val and I receive letters from the other universities asking for donations. Val and I have degrees from Utah State, University of Utah and BYU, but our answer is always the same, "We support Weber State University." My father's advice of supporting the local economy has remained ingrained in my heart. It thrills me when I meet a student and ask, "Why Weber State?" Since many of these students are from out of state or from other countries, I'm interested in why they are here and how they heard about Weber. The answers are surprising! But most come because of word-of-mouth by someone who had a 27 positive experience at the University. Last year, my niece's grandson from Alabama enrolled at Weber State. I asked him why and he replied that he would be close to his grandma and great grandma and would have some good home cooked food, but the other reason was that he heard so many good things about Weber from friends and family. He lived in the residence halls the first year and loved that experience. This young man is serving an LDS mission now, but he will return to graduate from Weber. I hear these kinds of stories all of the time from people just coming here and being happy and being treated with respect while learning from the best. Kindness also plays a big role in why they are here. That's very important. It doesn't cost a cent. Many times strong friendships develop as a result of mutual respect between teacher and student. My philosophy was that if friendship did develop as a result of good teaching, that's wonderful, but basically I didn't come here to be their friend, I came to be their teacher. A teacher and student are never on the same level. There has to be distance between the teacher and the learner and if that doesn't happen, learning will not take place. RL: It is a team effort. KL: It's a team effort and that desire to want to teach well and learn those skills that are necessary for a productive and caring classroom teacher makes all the difference. You must have that burning desire and that passion, "I chose the right thing and this is what I want to do for the rest of my professional career." Teaching is not for everyone and contrary to popular belief, all people cannot teach. Teaching requires a definite set of skills and relationships and knowledge 28 and when those three don't combine, it just doesn't happen. So, the majority of my students were here to learn and I was here to teach. RL: How many teachers have you sent out over the years, do you know? KL: Oh my glory. I had that figured out once because they asked me and it was into the thousands, but I did teach 27 of my former elementary students and that was wonderful. I taught those 27, plus I taught my daughter, my sister-in-law, Marilyn Lofgreen, and I taught two of my nieces! RL: Did you get to teach some of your students' children? KL: Yes! A few. One semester I had a student from Moses Lake, Washington. When she introduced herself and told where she was from, I found out that she was Dr. T.O. Smith's great granddaughter and the granddaughter of Dr. Smith's son, Vern, whom I dated in high school. She laughed as she said, "You could have been my grandmother!" I discovered that our students were dedicated professionals. When I observed them as they became cooperating teachers to our student teachers that I supervised I was thrilled that they were bona fide teachers. Who gets to do that? Have I convinced you both to go over and register as elementary education majors? RL: I'm getting ready to retire, I don't think I want to start over. KL: I think I'll grant you that. However, I think I was 53 when I began the doctorate program. RL: Well, you got it in 1988. 29 KL: I finished in 1988 at age 56. RL: It's never too late to learn. KL: No, and be in control of your life. Life has its mountains and valleys, but my dad always used to say, "Mind over matter." I keep that as a focal point because sometimes you have to drive yourself into the unknown and it has always worked for me. So, that's my good word for the day. RL: Well, I'm glad to see someone that was here and left with no regrets. KL: Absolutely none. RL: Thank you, Karen. KL: You're welcome. 30 1 Appendix 2 3 4

Dean W. Hurst ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 78p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 sound discs: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Dean W. Hurst Personal History 13 April 2003 i ii Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Dean W. Hurst Personal History 13 April 2003 Copyright © 2013 by Weber State University, Stewart Library iii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection includes interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories date back to the early settlement of North Ogden, and cover various topics including the History of Fort Buenaventura, city government affairs, controversial issues, Latinos in Ogden, personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Hurst, Dean, a personal history by Dean W. Hurst, 13 April 2003, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. Dean W. Hurst ca. 1967 1 Abstract: Dean W. Hurst shares his recollections of growing up in Ogden, Utah and his involvement with Weber State College in a personal history interview held on April 13, 2003. Dean's involvement with Weber began as a student before being drafted into the military in February of 1945 and sent to Ft. Douglas where he was trained as a paratrooper assigned to the 517th Airborne. Following his military service, Dean returned to Weber State and became actively involved in the alumni association. In 1967, Dean began his career at Weber State College as the Director of Alumni and Development Director and progressed to the position of Vice President of College Relations. He retired from Weber State University in 1991. Dean shares stories of his childhood as well as his family and friends and the memorable experiences throughout his life. DH: I have found that memories belong to those that have them. Two people who remember the same incident often remember it in different ways. What I'm going to talk about may be a little different than your memories, but allow me the privilege of having them as I remember. I don't remember much about the circumstances of my birth, I have to rely on what Mother told me. I was born on December 4, 1926 in Ogden, Utah delivered by Dr. Merrill. My brother, Farr, was born at the hospital and suffered a somewhat traumatic experience. Mother decided to go the whole nine yards at home as she later did with both Jimmy and Bonnie Lee. At the time, Dad had been burned in a fire, so my birth was particularly difficult in the nature of the birth and the fact that Dad was not expected to live for the first 3 months from the time that he was burned. It happened the day after Thanksgiving and I was born 2 within a week of that time. It was 3 months later that Dad gave me a blessing. He was almost crippled to the point that he couldn't walk, but was able to walk down the aisle at church and give me a church confirmation blessing. Another circumstance that made it difficult for Mom was that Farr had fallen down the basement steps and put his teeth through his lip. Also, Grandmother, who was assisting Mother, had come down with influenza or some terrible sickness and was out of her head telling Mother that we were going to have to amputate Dad's legs and that he was going to die anyway. So, Mother had a screaming baby who was left in another room adjacent to her bedroom. I developed pneumonia and nearly died at that point. Mother told me that I didn't eat and developed what could have turned into the beginning stages of rickets. The family story is that Aunt Annie, who delivered my cousin Jack six months later, ended up nursing me. So, my Aunt Annie was my nurse in the period of time when Mom was sick and didn't have enough milk. We grew up in an area probably as ideal as any person could ever want. I know that there were homes that were bigger or more luxurious, but our home at 2940 Ogden Avenue was utopian for a boy to grow up. It was in the middle of the block between 29th and 30th Street and Washington and Adams. Grandfather Hurst bought a number of pieces of property within the area so there were areas large enough to play games like football and baseball. We had great ball games there. There were a number of trees that we could build tree houses in. There was room to dig undergrounds and we always seemed to have a supply of lumber. I don't know where we got it all, but I do remember taking some out of an 3 old fence. There were old buildings and whatever the situation, there always seemed to be something we could build for any of the undergrounds or tree huts. We had an ideal family relationship with our grandparents. Grandparents Hurst lived just immediately next to our home for a number of years. Aunt Annie and Uncle Herb were across the street. Aunt Lydia and Uncle Earn were just up the street from us too. At one period of time, there was Uncle Leonard and Aunt Floss and Aunt Velma and Uncle Jim. It was like a communal order. I don't remember having a key to the door or a lock. It was kind of an "open house." I've mentioned Aunts and Uncles, but I haven't talked about cousins. There was Jack, Gene, Fern, Lavar, Bob, Shirley, Keith, and Jerry. Later, Jim, Annette and Bonnie came along. I remember a Dutch family that lived in a home that Grandpa built, the Koolmans. We used to take our grass clippings from our lawn to feed their chickens. Harold White lived across the street and was probably my oldest and closest friend up until the time we were teenagers and had begun to differ a little bit in some standards. I had more of a religious inclination than Harold did, but he was a good friend. His younger sister, Carol, is one of Bonnie's closest friends and remains so to this day. It was an ideal place not only for the home, but for our extended family. At Easter, we would go to Little Mountain and roll Easter eggs. (I haven't got the symbolism of that yet because they'd generally break into pieces rolling them down the hill.) A favorite place was East of Ogden, right where the Mt. Ogden Golf Course is now, where we would picnic and barbeque. I had a great time as a child. I remember one Easter we drove out to the sand hills, which was 4 another fun place across the Ogden River next to a place called Salamander Pond. There was a beautiful little glen called Sylvan Hollow. It's totally gone now; you can't even see a remnant of it. They made a garbage dump out of it. A lot of the old scenes of childhood have since gone, but one time we went there on a rainy Easter and ate our Easter eggs in the car. We had great night games in the neighborhood. We'd play, "Run Sheep, Run," "Ice Man," and "Kick-the-Can," with all the neighborhood kids and cousins. Another thing during those depression years that was so much fun was mulligan stew. We would get a gallon bucket and build a fire from whatever we could find from the neighbor's fence or place. We'd get the BB gun and go over to a pigeon loft in an old chicken coop and "plink" off a pigeon or two that we could put in our mulligan stew. It consisted of whatever anybody could bring; an onion, potatoes, carrots, etc. Squab was pretty good, but you don't see it on menus much anymore. Years later, I was talking with a girl that lived adjacent to us named Beverly Shipley and as we commented on the old neighborhood the first thing she said was, "I remember those mulligan stews." I didn't think she'd remember, but she remembered making a fire and putting potatoes in it so they would get blackened husks and you'd rip that open and eat the potato out of it. We had a lot of great times. We were having a little bonfire and roasting marshmallows out in the yard right next to our house. Our oldest cousin, Lavar, was there and his marshmallow caught on fire. Lavar flipped it and the marshmallow hit Gene Swaner in the eye. How he survived childhood I don't understand. He seemed to be on the wrong 5 end of any accident and he had cuts, bruises, and abrasions all over his head, cheek and elbows. It was just accidental, but I can remember that flaming marshmallow hitting him in the eye and it stuck. It was like a ball of hot tar in there. I don't remember how we ever had the capacity to build that tree house in the big box elder tree behind our garage, but it was well-built. It had to be at least 25 feet above ground. It had a deck, a bench, four sides, and a trap door in the middle where you could climb in from the bottom. We even carpeted it. Where in the world did we get the piece of asphalt roofing that we put over the roof? I don't remember where we got all the material. One day, we came home and some wretch had knocked the hut down and pushed it out. We never did know who did it. It was remarkable when I think about how we got up that high, put the pieces in place and built it. Of course, we had carpenter families. We grew up in the radio days before the days of television. We grew up to the strains of, "Who's that little curly locks, the one with all the auburn locks, who can it be? It's Little Orphan Annie," or "Ranfrue of the Mounties." We'd listen to those and have our secret decoder rings. We thrived on the ones later at night, "Myrt & Marge," "I Love a Mystery," and "The Great Gildersleeve." Those were great radio days as I recall. Neither Mother nor Dad had the means to give us special music lessons or anything. Farr had a little bit of a knack for singing and I remember Farr and Fern sang "Santa Lucia." They did well and sang in harmony. I had absolutely no musical talent. Mother taught me readings that she learned from her mother. My 6 favorite readings are probably the ones from Edgar A. Guest such as, "Pa Shaved Off His Whiskers." ("I haven't had such jolly fun for 40,000 years I laughed and laughed until I thought my eyes were running out in tears. There never was a mother's son that had such jolly roaring fun as children have begun since pa shaved off his whiskers.") I remember that particularly well and many other verses because during that time Dad grew a beautiful beard. Bonnie had just been born when Dad shaved off his whiskers and she didn't recognize him. She doesn't remember that, but we sure did. She was used to Dad with a great set of full whiskers and his derby hat on. I went on to learn a whole host of Edgar A. Guest poems that I can't even find copies of anymore. A favorite was, "Little Orphan Annie." ("Little Orphan Annie came to our house to stay, to wash the cups and saucers up and brush the crumbs away and to shoo the chickens…etc.") I had two great loves in my life. As a child, my preoccupation was cowboys. I can remember getting Mom and Dad to drive me down to Wall Avenue where I could see a picture of a cowboy with Levi's on made by Scowcroft's Never Rip Overalls. One of my earliest recollections was Grandmother Hurst made me a little holster to hold a cap gun and Grandmother Salt made me a pair of chaps. I wanted a rocking horse and I remember going to the old Emporium and there was the most beautiful rocking horse. It was a dapple gray with a beautiful black harness with red trim. I wanted that horse and I asked for it from Santa Claus, but I didn't get it. Mother and Dad were so concerned. These were difficult years. We were not poor, but there were tough 7 times. Dad built a rocking horse and I have to say I have felt bad all of my life that I can't remember it. Mother and Dad have described it to me. He made it out of an old log and it had a little saddle in the middle. The rocking horse I do remember was the old rocking chair in the front room. To me, it looked like a horse with the arm rest where I could sit. I made a pair of spurs with rubber elastic tubing and a nail in it. I spurred that horse for 40 miles over hill and dell. I can remember Mom and Dad scolding me about that. Anyway, that was my rocking horse. I also had a great love of drawing and I'd use up reams of paper that Farr had for school. I could be anything in the world that I wanted on paper. I could draw pictures of the army, cowboys, Indians, soldiers, airplanes, and my imagination could just run rampant. I had an imaginary friend whose name was Bim. He was my companion as a young kid. He was the sheriff of the town, I was his side kick and together we rode the range. School and church were very much a part of my childhood years and I can remember Primary and the days that we went and I still remember "SHSK," Spiritual Health Service Knowledge. I can still sing, "Oh we are the boy trail builders…" I did that in church a while ago and had half the congregation singing along with me. I always enjoyed church. I was noisy and disruptive and I had a lot of teachers that would have been happy to kick me out of the class. Grelden Nelson used to bribe me with candy. I remember some really had a hard time with me. I don't believe I was mean, I was just overly energetic. 8 There was one very spiritual thing about my baptism. I was baptized in the old 17th ward. It had a baptismal font. I used to think of this often because I was on the high council at the college stake when Alan Hall was a bishop. His office was built over the old baptismal font. I used to sit in that meeting and remember what, to me as an 8-year-old, was a very spiritual experience. A lot of people say they don't remember their baptism or anything that happened. It was memorable for me. As I was waiting to be baptized, I looked up at the font and saw a dove that illuminated with a neon light. I thought that was really cool. I heard the story about Jesus going into the water and the Father speaking, "This is my beloved son," then having the Holy Ghost descend as a dove. Many years later, I went into that old baptismal font and I wondered what happened to that dove. I asked someone and the person shook his head and said, "There never was, never is, and never has been anything like that." I told that story to a person one time that came up to me after and said, "You had the sign of the dove given to you at that time of baptism." I didn't particularly think of it as a child, but as an adult I thought, "I can accept that." Maybe a skeptic would say that it was just what I thought of in my childlike mind and imagination. To me, it has always been a very real and very personal experience. We enjoyed a host of things as young kids growing up. We could get free buttermilk at the old Cream of Weber Dairy on Adams Avenue. The old Alahambra Theatre was built on Kiesel Avenue. It became the Paramount Theater later, but it was the Alahambra originally. The Lyceum Theater on 25th Street is still there. The Popeye Club at the Paramount was a dime or 15 cents 9 and we could see half a dozen cartoons, two double features and a host of other things. Mother and Dad would send us off on Saturday morning and we wouldn't come back until the evening. We'd get out of the Ogden Theater on 25th Street and stop to get a cold glass of buttermilk free out of the spigot at the old dairy. It was real buttermilk with chunks of butter floating around the ice cold whey. Those are great memories I have. I remember fishing with the families at Bull Run, Lost Creek, and Chalk Creek. We had to put the old Model-T Ford in Rucksel Gear and take it up in reverse because it didn't have enough power to get up the steep hills. I loved the outdoors. I remember a lot of hiking with cousins and fishing with uncles and Dad, who was always the champion fisherman. One time, Uncle Herb and Dad came back and Uncle Herb had one more fish than Dad, so Dad took his fishing pole out to the river to catch one more fish just to catch up. There were always those kinds of fun competitions. We would hike up to Malan's Peak or Waterfall Canyon which was one of our favorites. We hiked to Mt. Ogden Peak and I think that got us some training for later hikes to Ben Lomond when Mother and Dad were taking care of the girls' camp in North Fork Canyon. I was exposed to work early. We would chop firewood for the stove and at one time we had to paint the house. I don't know how good a job we did. Ours was a lovely home even though it was small. Aunt Lydia and Uncle Earn lived there at one time when they were finishing their home. Uncle Herb and Annie also lived there once. Including their family and ours, there would have been 12 people living there at one time with one bathroom upstairs and very limited water 10 sources. We laughed about the fact now that we were on a septic tank and many times had to use other means. In that time, people just didn't bathe more than once a week. We just didn't have the water. We didn't have an indoor toilet until I was 9 or 10-years-old. I remember well the births of my younger sister and brother. I remember praying so hard for a sister. She was an answer to our prayer. Following each of their births, I was shocked to see my brother and sister for the first time when their eyes were totally blackened with silver nitrate. It used to be put in the eyes of all the children as prevention for venereal disease. It was mandated by law at that time. Their eyes were just an absolute black like they had put charcoal in them. I enjoyed school. I remember going to school the first time and Farr showed me the ropes. Mother started me a little early, which I don't think was that good for me. She thought I was ready for school, but it put me almost a year behind in growth so I was smaller than most of the kids. If you look at my class pictures, particularly through junior high school, I was much smaller and it made it difficult for competing in school and athletic events. There was a stigma about being six to eight months younger than the girls in my class. I don't think I was as sharp mentally either. She did it because she thought I was ready. I think she wanted to get me out of the house. I struggled in some classes in school though. I really suffered thinking I must have been dumb because I had a hard time with algebra. It was easier for me to just freehand geometry than to try to figure out all the angles and curves. I really struggled. I had a teacher in the 5th grade named 11 Mary Jensen. She recognized in me a certain talent for art. I began to feel I had something that made me as good as the rest of the kids. I was recognized along with Beverly Shipley as the best artist in the 5th grade. That kind of carried me through a number of classes. I also followed up with a lot of drama for which I had a natural inclination. When I was four or five years of age, Mom and Dad needed a child to be in a play they were in. It was a story about a kidnapped child and I was to be the kidnapped child. I didn't have to say anything. After they brought me on, the dialogue went on for three acts and to show my total dramatic ability, I went to sleep. I slept through the entire performance. At the end, I was supposed to wake up and run to Momma when she came in. I didn't wake up for my dramatic scene. I slept right through it. I gave readings of the poems that Mother taught me earlier in my childhood all over the city. I remember Mother taking me to MIA's, competitions, road shows and any number of shows while I did my bit. I remember doing readings of: "Castor Oil of all the Nasty Stuff," "Gee Whiz, That is the Very Worst There Is," "Pa Shaved Off His Whiskers," and "Ma Fixes Things." Those poems carried me through until my junior high school days when I really got into more heavy poems. They had contests at the city schools. I did a reading of, "Penrod and Sam," which was a classic. Penrod's friend, Sam, was tongue-tied, so Mrs. Dobbs taught me how to be tongue-tied by rolling an elastic band on my tongue. I did the reading of "Penrod and Sam" and won a contest as well as, "Willis McPrang," and "Cleaning His Garage." The poem that took me from beginner to 12 stellar was Alfred Noyse's, "The Highway Man." I won a local contest with that and it was one of Mother's favorites. My first date was with a pretty girl named Betty Dawn Agey. I think that was in the eighth grade. The Ageys lived right next to Grandma and Grandpa Salt on 30th Street. It was just one of those dates where we went to a school party. My first serious date was with a girl named Carol Moyes. I was student body president and I finally had the guts to ask a pretty girl to a dance. She remains a very special friend to this day. She's lost her husband and occasionally we'll meet. Carol Moyes was the first girl I ever kissed. When I was 15-years-old, a number of big things happened in life. I was going to rehearse for a school play and they announced that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. In that same spectrum of time, I went to work at Lowe's Hardware because the men had all gone to war and they were hiring kids at just 15-years-old. I was doing a man's work and worked there for a period of time before going to work for Tanner's clothing store. During the war, I worked at the Naval Supply Depot. I met Laurence Burton at Ogden High School. He had a great impact on my life. He was a very popular guy in school and we were in the school play together. We wrote a little take off of Hamlet called, "Hamlet: Prince of Denmark." We put it on in high school and had Mrs. Chambers help us with it. Laurence and I became very close friends in high school and into college. I went to college at Weber while I was waiting to be drafted. My birthday was December 4th and I graduated from Ogden High School in June of 1944. I worked at the supply depot in the summer while waiting to go in the military. I 13 took classes in aerodynamics, theory of flight, learned about pseudoadiobatic charts in preparation for the Army Air Force Cadet program. You could join when you were 17 and when you turned 18 you automatically went into flight school. The war was beginning to wind up at the beginning of that time and others who had gone in a little bit before me were put in gunnery school. I wanted to fly. Laurence and I got out of the program and tried to go into the Navy. I passed the first battery of tests and went on to the physical tests and found out that my eyes were not good enough. So, I was out of the Air Force, Army and the Navy. My cousin, Dick Salt, had the idea to go into the Merchant Marines, so I joined and prior to leaving I double checked with my draft board and they said, "Dean, your draft notice will be in the mail by December 5th, the day after your birthday and they'll take you out of the Merchant Marines." I got out of the Merchant Marines and my actual draft notice didn't come until February. It ended up being a blessing in disguise because the guys that went into the Merchant Marines were drafted back into military service when they came home. I left in March and went to Ft. Douglas. I volunteered for the Marines, but the quota was full. I tried to get into the Navy and there was no opening there. The only option left was the infantry and I thought, "Anything but the plain infantry." I remembered seeing a fellow walking down the street with jump boots and the Airborne patch on his shoulder and thought, "That's cool." So, I volunteered for the paratroops. I went through basic training at Camp Maxey in Texas. I was an acting sergeant all through infantry basic and an expert infantryman which was the highest honor you could get at that time. I was very 14 serious. I wanted to be a good soldier and I wanted to save my life. I figured the harder I worked, the better prepared I would be for the jump school. I knew it was going to be hard and wanted to succeed. My original group of trainees went overseas and ended up in the last campaigns in Okinawa. In later years, I talked to a couple of the guys in my outfit that had seen action. Two of the fellows that I knew had been killed in Okinawa. I met a paratrooper walking up the street and I went up to him and said, "Hey, I joined the paratroopers too." He said, "You dumb son of a.," I found out that he was an old shot up veteran who had been in combat. He must have been with the 11th Airborne. He was probably hurt in one of the jumps there. When I learned the quota for jump school was full, I thought that I wouldn't be going. One of my sergeants pulled strings and got me in and only three of us in that whole group ended up going to the paratroops. It turned out great. The period of time I spent in training gave me a chance to develop some real challenges physically. The most frightening thing in jump school at Fort Benning, Georgia was jumping from the 275 foot towers. They pulled us up, hit a release and the parachute dropped. I'll never forget the older troopers singing, "There was blood upon the risers, there was brains upon the chute." I thought, "I'll go through training to prove I can do it. I just won't jump." I went through all of the stages, packed the chutes and learned everything. When the first jump came I thought, "If I don't feel like it, I won't go." I looked up and there was a fellow still standing there and the jump master said, "What's the matter soldier?" He said, "Well, I don't think I'll jump." The jump master said, "I think you better jump and then if 15 you don't want to anymore you don't have to." He said, "I've never been up 1,500 feet in the air and that doesn't stop me from being scared." The jump master said, "You're going to jump." He grabbed him, turned him around and threw him out the door. I looked out the window as he went out and he was like a cat just flailing around. I thought, "Well, I guess I'll jump." So I did. I was assigned to the 517th Airborne. The war ended while we were making a practice jump. We were training for an invasion of Japan and we were making a night simulated combat jump when they announced the atomic bomb was dropped. We knew that the official surrender hadn't been signed, but the war was over. That night, Johnny Barnes, who slept above me, was killed on a night jump. It was just one of those accidents that happen in the Airborne. I had a lot of fun in the service and had some good friends. I was a member of the honor guard. We paraded in Philadelphia, Boston and probably one of the highlights of my Army career was being in the New York World War II victory parade. The 82nd was chosen to be the honor guard for that. We paraded all the way up to 5th Avenue under a confetti parade. It was a great thrill. The whole town came out for us and it was a marvelous experience. I met a fellow by the name of Bob Curran while I was in the service. Bob was a paratrooper who had made the Rhine jump in the 17th Airborne. We became good friends and he became interested in the L.D.S. church. He had a dog named Trooper and we felt we should make him a fully qualified parachutist, so I jumped with him. I dang near killed myself in that jump because I was coming in frontwards and I was afraid the bag with the dog had pulled out from the opening of the parachute and 16 was right over my knees. I was afraid that in my landing position I'd drive my knees and squash the dog, so I reversed myself with the risers facing backward which is the worst position. I came in and there was no way of flexing anything. I hit heels, butt and head as the bag smacked me in the face. I heard the dog make one little yelp. It knocked me out for a minute and when I came to I opened the bag and that dog looked dead as could be and I thought, "Oh boy, I killed the dog." Then it shook its head and opened its eyes. There was a Catholic kid from Philadelphia named Bob Titus, and the last jump I made in the service he and I jumped together. He was a bit of a nut and totally opposite from me. He was a bit of a drinker, a smoker, a party guy, and a staunch Catholic. We just had some other things in common and we were good friends. I didn't see him again for years and one day while I was working at Hill Air Force base, there was a phone call and they said, "Is this the Dean Hurst who was in the 82nd Airborne Division?" I said, "Yes." He said, "This is Bob "Catholic" Titus, I just flew in and I wondered if I could come by." Bob had stayed in the service, went to flight school and was flying P-51's. He had been shot down over Korea. He had just landed at Hill Air Force Base. We had a fun get-together. We talked and laughed about the old days and I was really impressed. Thirty years later, I was at home and the phone rang and he said, "Is this the Dean Hurst that was in the 82nd Airborne Division?" I said, "Yes." He said, "This is General Titus." Bob Titus became one of the most highly decorated generals and was a Wing commander in Vietnam. I have yet to talk to an Air Force man that doesn't know of Bob Titus. He was at the end of his career at the 17 academy in Colorado Springs and he was doing some consulting at Hill AFB and brought his wife. She was a sweet lady. Carol and I took them to dinner and we began to correspond and send Christmas cards. One year, I didn't hear from him, so the next time I saw the General at Hill I asked, "What do you hear from Bob Titus?" He said, "You didn't hear? He died suddenly one year ago." He was a heavy smoker. Who would think that a relationship as divergent as that was would exist? That was just one of the great military experiences I had. I came back from the military and went to Weber College. I was very active as yearbook editor. Laurence and I developed a little routine called, "The Act," in which we did a song and dance routine. We put that on all over the place and had a great time. I met a girl I fell "desperately in love" with named, LouJean Sneddon. Unfortunately, she didn't fall as hard for me as I fell for her. That was another one of those blessings in disguise. I chose to go on an L.D.S. mission. I had been interviewed for a mission before with the bishop and I told him I felt I'd already served a mission. Later, I met a friend by the name of Don Belnap and he told me he had just accepted a mission call. I don't know why we make our minds up at certain times, but I knew right then that's what I should do. I was interviewed by elder Mark Peterson. I was very close with a group of Hawaiian kids in infantry basic, so when they asked where I wanted to go on the mission I said, "I'd like to go to Hawaii, but I'll go wherever I'm called." When my mission call came, it was to the Central Pacific Mission. I found out the headquarters was in Honolulu and of course that delighted me. When I'd left the Hawaiian kids after basic I said, "One day, I'll come and see you." The word spread and I bumped 18 into two or three of the guys. I still call a Hawaiian kid named Samuel Kaupuiki, who lives on Lanai and keeps me up with what happened after I left basic training. When I returned from my mission, I continued my schooling in art at the University of Utah and studied with some great teachers. My G.I. Bill ran out and I dropped out of school thinking it was going to be just for that summer. I went to Hill Air Force Base to be interviewed for a temporary summer job and found out there was an art job open which had some great opportunities. I took that job and ended up making it a career. I didn't go back to school until later when I took some additional classes at night school. I was very active in the alumni association both at Ogden High and Weber College. I became very active in the association in 1952 and that has never ended as far as involvement with Weber State. I was working at Hill Air Force Base when a good friend, Rulon Garfield, introduced me to Carol Watkins on blind date. I had just bought a beautiful new car. My first car was a little 1930 Model A Ford that I bought for 35 dollars. It had been used as a chicken coup, so I had to take the entire interior out and fix it up. I sold that first car for 100 dollars and then bought a 1932 Ford Coupe with a rumble seat. I painted it, fixed it up and sold it for 200 dollars and bought a 1939 Ford. Later, I traded it for a 1951 Ford Victoria with a continental kit on it. Carol though it was a Cadillac and I thought any girl that thought a Ford was a Cadillac was my kind of girl. I never dated another girl. I can't say the same about Carol not dating another fellow, but she was much younger and was attending school 19 at Utah State and I courted her while she was in college. We got married a year later and had our first child nine months later. Carol had gone from queen of the school and Miss Utah State to diapering babies nine months later. It was difficult to go through that transition. We lived in grandparent Watkins basement where Kevin was born and were there a short period of time while we were building a little home on Maple Drive. Dad and I built it and I did a lot of the work on that myself. I left Hill AFB at that time and began working for Pierson, Kearney and Hurst, an advertising and art agency. I'd been in an advertising agency that "Pony" Halverson and I started called Halverson Hurst Advertising and Art Agency. I was working five jobs. I was also working for Tanner's for Men, at the Cal Pack with Wes and Jack Swarner and doing freelance artwork on the side, so life was pretty busy. I probably didn't do any of them as well as I should have, but I worked really hard during that time. We built a little home on Maple Drive and lived there for nine years. We built it for $12,000 and sold it for $17,000. I worked for Pierson, Kearney and Hurst for 13 or 14 years and loved my time there, but after my 40th birthday I had an impression in the middle of the night that I should contact Weber College. I didn't know why and I thought when I'd wake up in the morning that impression would be gone. I put it off for a period of time, but then I called the college and oddly enough, President Miller answered the phone. I said, "President Miller, I don't really know why I'm calling you. Is there any kind of job up there that I could be doing?" He said, "Well, it's interesting that you'd call. There is a job that we are in the process of finalizing 20 and your name came up, but we didn't think we could hire you away." I said, "Well, what is it?" He said, "It is the Director of Alumni and Development Director." I didn't know a lot about that, but I knew Weber and a lot of people in the city. I said, "What are you offering?" He gave me a figure and I said, "I will never take a job for less than what I'm making. If you could make that a little bit higher, I'd be interested." He said, "I can't offer you the job, but you would certainly be a candidate at that price." I interviewed the following day, was offered the job and that started my career at Weber State. I took the job in January of 1967 and retired in 1991. I went from Executive Director of Alumni to the Director of College Relations and later Assistant to the President and then Vice President of College Relations. In that capacity, I had alumni, fundraising, public relations, development, the athletic program, the director of the Dee Events Center, the Director of the Browning Center and campus security. Elizabeth Dee Shaw knew my mother and lived in the old 10th Ward. The Dee's and the Barker's and their families lived there on the other end of town. They were entrepreneurs along the likes of David Eccles. Thomas "Grandpa" Dee had developed several businesses and a number of other enterprises. His granddaughter, Elizabeth, had inherited a considerable amount of money. She married a man named Donnell Stewart and they had no children. They kind of adopted us as a result of me serving as bishop. I interviewed them for a mission and we became very close. We traveled with them extensively through Asia and Europe. Donnell sponsored me in the Rotary Club of Ogden in which I've been very active. 21 Elizabeth and Donnell gave millions of dollars to Weber and I was instrumental in setting up a number of trusts that focused money from that source into the university and community and have served on those foundations since. We've since poured millions of dollars into the community and another 50 million to Weber. In addition to the opportunity of raising money, I met a lot of great people. I was on a first name basis with Val Browning. He was a marvelous guy who was a million dollar donor several times over. J. Willard Marriott Sr. was another great guy. I went to school with his son, Bill Marriott, at the University of Utah. I went to Mr. Marriott's home in Maryland to pick up a check for a million dollars. I knocked on the door and he answered the door himself. It impressed me that there was no security. He answered the door in a sweater with a sleeve that was broken out in the elbow. He was very unpretentious. He and his wife were just salt of the Earth people. The Eccles' family was also great. I met people like David Kennedy who was the secretary to the treasury. I had dinner with Charleston Heston, Edgar Bergan, Shirley Chisom, John Wooden, Elliott Richardson, and Gordon Liddy. The students would have them come as speakers and would wisely ask someone to go along with them to make sure the proper protocol was maintained. All of those were marvelous opportunities. The one who stood out as the celebrity that I enjoyed the most was Neil Armstrong. During the schools' Centennial Celebration I had the opportunity to meet him at the airport and drove him to the Marriott Hotel in Ogden. Following his remarks at commencement, I drove him back to the airport and had a chance to visit with him one-on-one. 22 The period of time I served as Bishop from 1969 to 1972 was probably the most difficult period of time in our marriage. I think it was a result of a number of things. It was a transition period for me at work and as bishop. It was a tough time and I mention that because I think we outgrew it and boating helped. Carol had never had a great opportunity of camping like we had as kids, and we didn't have a lot in common. The outdoor adventures that I loved weren't of interest to her and it took a toll on us a little bit. She became very active in music, which I admit I resented. I wanted total time and effort and acceptance and everything that went along with it. The boating helped give us something in common. She turned into a heck of a boater. She could cook up meals and our boating experience really helped us heal. I loved Lake Powell and some of the fondest memories I'll ever have are the times we shared with the family. All of you here know that same love we had for Lake Powell and I've had my boat on Jackson Lake, Flaming Gorge and Willard Bay. Those were great times. We traveled extensively. We went to Asia we went to China, Japan, New Zealand, Australia, Bali, and the Philippines. Later, I went with the Rotary conventions to Holland, Germany, France, Luxemburg and all over England. We had a marvelous time with friends traveling to England. We traveled to Mexico where we all got the "Montezuma's Revenge." We had some tremendous experiences there. Tahiti had always been a dream because I remember as a kid, Rudean Allred had gone to Tahiti and the idea of going to Tahiti was always a dream. I ended up getting a couple of weeks there and Carol didn't want to go. 23 She lacked the desire to go, so I went with my son, Kevin. We had a great time there. I've had a few strange illnesses, I had a burst appendix and one time, I fell out of a tree and dislocated my shoulder. I had a kidney stone on Memorial Day that I will never forget, bypass surgery with five coronary bypasses and in Hawaii on the anniversary date of my open heart surgery ended up with an upper GI obstruction and had to go to the hospital at 2:00 in the morning after a 911 call by my wife. That was a challenge to be in a strange city and to get me there. We finally got that straightened out. I had cataract surgery and wear hearing aids that don't work. We've been pretty much through the gamut. I am also a cancer survivor, but that's another story. I want to conclude by telling two or three of the miracles in my life and I'm sure that there are many more. I don't think any of us are aware when angels protect us. I think of Mother saying, "Don't climb the cliffs at the waterfall," and we climbed the cliffs. I remember hitting a piece of dynamite with a hammer to see what would happen. I would jump off the chicken coops with a parachute made out of a bedspread and I can't imagine why I didn't break anything. I think when the roll is called up yonder; we can look back in time and see some of the things where it was only through divine intervention that we survived. I wanted to mention this and one other thing in closing. I always felt like I wasn't the best dad. I think back and I remember spanking one of the kids and I don't even remember what it was over, but I remember my hand print on the little bare bottom and it hurts me to even think about it now. It's bothered me and I 24 don't recall ever spanking the kids when I felt it wasn't justified. I really appreciated Boyd Packer's talk about grandparents. I think I am a better grandparent than a dad. I really love my grandkids, we only have six grandkids, but I love them with all my heart. Some of them have special needs and different challenges, but I made up my mind that I was going to be a good grandpa and other than times of discipline, I've really enjoyed them. I've been more of a companion and played with them when they were younger. They're growing up to be teenagers now and I'm having a tough time because I can't get down to that same level. I like to think that I was a good grandpa. I wanted to tell another story that was a foundation to my testimony. I was on my mission and I hadn't been out too long. I was a little discouraged and hadn't received a letter from home for a long while. I had been working hard with little success and we tracked down to a home one time and knocked on the door and a little Japanese woman came to the door and we introduced ourselves. She suddenly went hysterical and started to cry and weep inconsolably. The more we tried to find out what was wrong, the harder she wept. We had been invited into the home and sat down when she started to cry. It bothered us so much that we finally just had to get up and walk out. Later, I called Sister Okimoto, who was a member of the church and didn't live too far from this woman. I said, "We don't know what happened, we didn't want to offend her." Sister Okimoto went and visited her. She met us later and said, "This woman had been very concerned over which church to join and had just knelt down and prayed that she might know which church to join when there was a knock at the door and she opened it 25 up and there were two Mormon missionaries." That was really impressive to me. I was transferred out of that area and I don't know whether she ever did join the church or not. Another experience I had on my mission was a lesson that wasn't so much the testimony of seeing a miracle as much as a testimony of faith and unity. On New Year's Day, we were having a district president's convention and President Weig asked an old Hawaiian fisherman if we could help him with his Hukilau. It was a tradition for him to take his nets out and the fish he caught on New Year's Day was his tithing for the prior year. That was how he paid it. There were ten or twelve of us and it turned out to be a boisterous sea and the waves were very high. Some of the missionaries didn't want to go out, so Brother Kalili said, "If you don't have the unity and the faith that we could go out and succeed, I won't do it." We all went away and prayed about it and when we had the impression that we were all together we went back and told him that. He said, "If you are united, we will do it." We took the nets out and I was assigned to go out and keep the nets off the coral. As we were pulling the nets in, I began to see what I thought were sharks. As we got to shore, the net began to catch on some big boulders and I'd go down to see what they were and all of a sudden a big head came out. It was a huge sea turtle. The word got out that we caught a mess of fish that was too heavy to pull in. There was over 100 yards of netting extending out in the ocean. All of a sudden, the native villagers all came out and helped the elders pull the nets to shore. We had caught four sea turtles, which in that time were in high demand. The Japanese and the Chinese would eat them, 26 but the Hawaiians would not. Those represented a major source of income in addition to a ton of fish that we caught in those nets. We couldn't even pull them all in. It was a miracle in the understanding that unity and faith are inseparable and there was a lesson taught. That event has gone down in the history. If you go to any of the older people in Laie, they remember that event. All the missionaries were invited to the next Hukilau. I want to tell one other quick story. When we were living on Washington and 36th Street, Carol was teaching piano to a little girl named Mary Kimball who had a twin brother named Tommy. They lived across the street and they were an inactive L.D.S. family. Tommy came over to the house one day and said, "Mrs. Hurst, come quick. I just shot Mary." Carol went over to find the scene, which was horrific. There was little Mary lying in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor. Her brother had played with a rifle that the father had borrowed to go deer hunting. He chambered a round and accidently fired it. The bullet went through her wrist, struck her abdomen and disemboweled her. Pieces of her intestine and stomach were all over the kitchen wall. Mary was totally conscious laying there and said to Carol, "Mrs. Hurst, don't let me die. Please don't let me die." Carol called the ambulance and at first they went by and she thought, "They're not going to stop," but they backed up. They came in, picked up her insides, put them back in the cavity of her stomach, covered her with gauze and took her to the hospital. No one expected her to live. She did barely survive and about a week later her mother called and asked, "Would you come and give a prayer for Mary?" I called Carol's father and 27 we went up to the hospital where her mother went in first and came out crying. She said, "I don't know whether we should do this. She is in so much pain. I don't know whether I want to prolong it." I said, "Bernice, do you want her to live or not?" She said, "I want her to live." I said, "We will administer to her." So we administered to her and Eddis anointed her and I sealed the anointing. I can see the scene in my mind's eye as clear today as it was then with the blessing I delivered. Here was this little child in a semi-reclining position in the bed and there was no part of her body that didn't have a tube or a wire or something in it. She just looked like a specimen stuck on a board and she was unconscious. I gave her a blessing and felt prompted to give her a blessing of health and strength, but the unusual thing that I said was that she would not only live, but that she would be a mother. I finished saying that, sealed the blessing and as I walked out the door, I turned to Brother Watkins and said, "I don't know why I said that." Well, she lived and went through many operations. She had a plastic tummy and I remember I was working at Tanner's Store when the nurse came in and said, "Mary had her first BM." That was a sign that Mary was functioning and her body was working. I waited for another 12 years as she went on to survive. She was homecoming queen at Weber College and a beautiful little blonde lady. Later, she was married. One day, I picked up the paper and read that Mary had just delivered a child. She had three children. They later said that the odd thing about that wound was that it tore her stomach up, but it didn't touch her female organs. 28 In conclusion, all of those are factors in that I have been blessed all my life with the testimony that I know that God lives and Jesus is the Christ. I appreciate my membership in the church because I don't know that I would have had the temperament to join had I not been born in the gospel. I have been eternally grateful that I was privileged to be born into a family that taught me those gospel principles. I have enjoyed, loved, appreciate and testify and do so in the name of Jesus Christ whose resurrection and atonement I value and appreciate so much, and do so in His name, Amen.

Part one of an interview with Rev. Monsignor Leo J. Battista.Topics include: The Monsignor's family history and how his parents came to the U.S. from Italy. His father's work experience as a water boy on the Clinton Dam and then as a barber. The Monsignor's education at Holy Cross and at Grand Seminary in Montreal. The history of his assignments with the Church. Speaking Italian at home and learning different languages. Attending the Italian missions in Clinton, MA. Fighting cancer around the time he was ordained. Working at St. Anna's in Leominster. The Monsignor's experiences as an Italian living, going to school, and working in different places. His father's experiences being and Italian immigrant. Local social clubs. What his mother's life was like as a house wife. The importance of education to his family. ; 1 LINDA: … Rosenbaum for the Center of Italian Culture. It's Thursday, September 13th, 2001, and we are at the home of Monsignor Battista. I would like him to just introduce himself and his address, and then we'll get started with the interview. LEO: Good morning. My name is Monsignor Leo Joseph Battista. I live at -- I reside, rather, at 35 Julio Drive in Shrewsbury at a facility known as Southgate, which is an independent living home for retirees. LINDA: I thought that we could start with just you telling us a little bit about yourself. For example, your date of birth, and… LEO: I was born on December 27th, 1923 in a small town called Clinton, Mass, which is not too far from here. And I was born of two Italian [non-born] parents, both having come over from Italy—my father, Vincenzo Battista, and my mother, Maria Perrone Battista. My father came over here when he was just 13 years old and began to work as a worker at the Wachusett Reservoir. LINDA: What is that noise? LEO: That's the bird. On the clock. LINDA: Oh, I see. Okay. Try if it will shut up. I wasn't sure if that was a real bird. LEO: No. LINDA: Okay. I'm sorry. So you were explaining when your father was arriving? LEO: He arrived in 1908, I believe he got here. He came over with his dad, and they settled in Clinton because of work that was being done on the Wachusett Reservoir at the time. And he worked here -- he worked there for several years and then went on to take up the trade of being a barber. My mother, of course, she was born in Italy. And I believe she came over here in -- she came after she married my father. My father went back to Italy to marry her. And then she came over, and she was always a homemaker. She never worked outside the home. LINDA: Which village were they from in Italy?2 LEO: They were from a place called Delianuova, which is in the province and region of Calabria. And they were from the large province of Calabria and in the smaller district of Calabria called Reggio. And their little town was in the mountainous area, and it was called Giulinova. LINDA: About their experiences in Italy? LEO: Well, they would from time to time, just how they worked. Not too much though, when I stop and think of it. Because my father was very young, he hadn't had much opportunity to find work there. But he – so, he didn't have any job from there. He just came over here looking for job, looking for work with his dad. And my mother was just a homebody, so to speak. She was just from a family of -- I believe there were seven in her family. She was one of the girls in the family, had two brothers and four sisters. And she just worked around the home. She never really had any kind of a job over there or anything. And they would talk about the different things they would do, the picnics that they would go on and the festivities that they would attend and tell us about those things. There wasn't too much exchange as to what they did over there. LINDA: Did you father ever share with you the voyage? How old was he when he came here? LEO: He was only 12. LINDA: He was 12 in age when he came. LEO: He didn't say too much about that…just that they came over. He didn't go into much detail about it. And I don't know, for some reason or another, we never really asked too much about his trip over other than he came over by way of a boat with his dad. They certainly didn't travel first class. They were part of the immigrants who came landing in New York and getting off at Ellis Island.3 And that was an interesting thing. I often wondered why they used to call him James when his name was Vincenzo. And he then related the story to me one time that the officials at the immigrant registration desk had difficulty in understanding the name Vincenzo. And to them it sounded like James for some reason, Vince for James. So they put down James Battista. And so he kind of assumed that name here; and as he went along in labor, he was more commonly known as James Battista rather than his real name, Vincenzo Battista. But it was one of those mix-ups at the point of immigration registration that I think many Italian people went through. I mean, the people here were just in a hurry to register the people coming in, and if they didn't catch the name in the way it came across to them, they would put in what they thought they heard. And people got these different names from time to time. LINDA: So he worked as a laborer at Wachusett Dam? LEO: He worked as a laborer at the Wachusett Dam as a water boy because he was just, you know, 12 or 13 years old. And then after working there for a while, he was able to get a job in the Lancaster Mills, which was in Clinton at the time. That was a big copper company, and he worked there as a laborer for a while. But then he had the opportunity to pick up the trade of barbering. And I don't know how it was that he picked up barbering, he just seemed to want -- he liked that trade for one reason or another. He never did it as an apprentice in Italy, which was common in Italy. Before you did anything, any kind of work, you always worked as an apprentice for a number of years, and you gradually grew into and then being able to go on your own. Now, whether it was in carpentry or masonry or brickwork or barbering or 4 shoe work, that's the pattern; that's the way they trained over there. They trained as apprentices for a number of years. I remember when I used to help him at the barbershop when I was in high school. And he always used to consider my beginning as an apprenticeship. And then he would tell me about how he had to be an apprentice for a number of years and how he had to just watch the fellow work; that he was training with cut hair before he actually did cut any hair or attempt to make any attempt on cutting hair or trimming people's hair. And I used to be very impatient with that, just standing next to him watching him cut hair and trim people's hair. And I would be going up -- but he said you have to watch the technique, the way it's done. And he then explained that that's just the way an apprentice goes. And at the time, too, there was such a thing as an apprentice license in barbering. You couldn't get a license, a full complete license, until you had accomplished your apprentice training. So going back to his work, that is the way he learned, and then he went into barbering and then was able to open up his own barbershop. LINDA: And where was that located? LEO: It was -- I think it was located in Depot Square in Clinton right next to the railroad station. And he had quite a few really important people that used to come to him. For example, Senator David I. Walsh was one of his customers. And I can remember him going up to the site of David I. Walsh's house when the senator was in town, and he would go up there to either cut his hair or shave him and so forth. And another one of his major customers was Congressman Philip J. Feldman, who used to always come to the barbershop to have his hair cut, or he'd get a shave.5 And I remember how I used to like -- well, I wasn't around when Senator Walsh, David I. Walsh, was coming in, but I was around, working around the barbershop when Congressman Feldman was, and I used to like to kind of prepare him for my father's work on him, like getting him ready to have his hair trimmed and so forth or shaved. Because he used to always give me a nice big tip at the end even though I did nothing but just lather him up or put the apron on around him to protect him from the hair that might have fallen on him. LINDA: So you were expected to become a barber? LEO: Well, my father never expected me. He thought it would be good for me to learn the trade, and if I wanted to do it, to follow his footsteps. But he left it up to me pretty much as to what I wanted to be. And so he never -- I just helped him out. He had other barbers, too. But I used to help out too in the busy time on Saturdays and the weekends. But he never put any pressure on me to be a barber. I think he wanted something more for me because he would always encourage me about studying and to study and to go to school. And one of his high events, one of his great hopes and mission was that I would go to Notre Dame University. He was always talking about Notre Dame, going to Notre Dame. But to go to Notre Dame at that time when I was growing up and in school, in high school, it was during the Depression, and that would cost a great deal of money. And so in my deliberations about where I was going to go to the school or pick, I felt that I would have to go to school around here someplace and commute to school, you know, not to live on campus or that because I didn't think my family could afford supporting me as a boarder in college some place. LINDA: So which school did you go to? LEO: Well, I was all set to go to Boston College, and the reason for that was because generally there was a cost factor. I had a sister who was married and lived in Boston, and I felt I could live with her and commute to school 6 on the trolley, on the tram in Boston. And I was all set and scheduled to go there and accepted. But then one day -- I was an altar boy, and after sitting a mass, one of the priests at the parish said to me, "Have you ever been to Holy Cross?" And I said, "Up to Holy Cross?" And I said, "No." And he said, "Well, I've got to go up there." He says, "You want to take a ride up and see the school?" And of course, at that time I was -- I knew quite a bit about Holy Cross, and so father used to follow their football team and the like. So it was kind of a challenge to go up and take a look at them. Well, when I went up there and I walked around with him and I saw Holy Cross, the whole atmosphere at Holy Cross presented itself in a different manner than Boston College did. And I mean, it seemed to be more scholastically appropriate, I mean. So far as I was -- when I went to BC with my brother-in-law, that visit, it was during the year and there was a lot of commotion, a lot of activity, and a lot of things going on. It didn't seem like I was in academia, you know. But when I went up to Holy Cross with the priest, Father O'Connell, it was -- everything was quiet and there weren't too many people around. It was very [contemporary], so to speak, and I was really impressed with Holy Cross. And so I said to Father O'Connell, I said, "I like this school very much." And he says, "Come on, let's go and get an application." And so I went into the Dean's office, the Dean of Admissions, with him and we got an application. And I filled it in, and I was accepted. And after a few days, I got a letter saying that I was accepted to go there. So that's how I picked. And I felt it was close to Clinton, and I could commute from Clinton to Holy Cross maybe much better than being all the way down in Boston, so. LINDA: How did you commute? Did you have a… LEO: When I graduated from…7 LINDA: Put your hands further. Okay. LEO: When I graduated from high school, my father decided to go look at cars. He decided to buy me a car for graduation. A very good friend of his was a dealer, had taken this car in, and it was a 1937 Plymouth. And it was owned by a young woman who very seldom used it, and there wasn't very much mileage. And he got a terrific buy at the time. I think he paid $315 for it. So that was my graduation gift from high school, which enabled me then to use it to commute to Worcester every day to Holy Cross. And at the same time, there was already a young man in the town who was going to Holy Cross, and so knowing that I had a car, they asked if he could ride with me, and they would pay me so much a week for transportation. And that enabled me to keep the car up and get the gasoline and all that sort of thing. And that was every day, so that's how we used to travel to Holy Cross. LINDA: When you entered Holy Cross, did you… LEO: When I entered Holy Cross, I said that I would -- I put down that I wanted to be a priest or a doctor, let's say medicine or the priesthood. And I would take the AB pre-med course in case I wanted to switch, but it also would enable me to go on for a study of priesthood too because they were the same courses, practically speaking, until you get up into your junior year where you began to take more of the chemistry and biology and so forth. And so I went in with that intention, either to be a doctor or to be a priest. And what was, you would say, the deciding factor at all -- well, I was having stronger, really, desire to be a priest. But I liked medicine because I had two sisters who were nurses, had trained, and I used to get -- hear a lot about medicine and so forth, and that always kind of interested me.8 But then the war -- the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in 1941, and that was the year I began Holy Cross in 1941, having graduated high school in '41; and in September I went to Holy Cross. And when the Japs attacked Pearl Harbor in December, then -- at the time at Holy Cross, they were just starting -- it was their first year of starting the NROTC, the Naval Reserve Officers Training Corps, and I was tempted to go into that. But then I said, if I go into that, how often -- that would interfere probably with my going ahead to be a priest. So I said I'd wait. But then when the war came, everybody on campus wanted to do something and get into -- be [in place], so to speak. All my classmates were either in the NROTC or they were joining up in the army or the navy or the marines or what. So I went up to join the Naval Air Corps, the D5, and I went into the office where you would sign up and fill your application in to join the D5 Program, which was naval training for air training. And when we -- this other young man with myself -- came up with me… we both had the same idea. Well, when we went in to see the priest who was taking the application, he looked over the thing, and he looked over what our admissions records said. So he turned and he said, "On this admission record you have here that you wanted to be a priest or to study medicine." And he said, "Do you still have that desire?" And I said, "Yes." He says, "Well, why are you signing up for this program?" And I said, "Because everyone else is entering the service." So he took my application and he ripped it up. And he said, "Listen," he says, "Uncle Sam will get all the men he needs in order to fight this war. But the church will need priests in order to serve these men. And if that's your desire, then you go and study for the priesthood."9 And shortly after that, about a month or so after that happened, a letter came down from the bishop in Springfield saying that if there were any young men at Holy Cross who wanted to study for the priesthood, they should now make plans to enter the seminary in the fall, in September. And so I went to see my pastor, and then plans were made for me to go into the seminary. LINDA: So was that in… LEO: No, I was at Holy Cross for three years. LINDA: Three years. LEO: Three years. Because we had gone -- this was in '43. Yeah, by the time I went into my third year and we were totally -- but after -- it was '42 when I went in to sign up for the -- well, I just thought that what he had said that he knew more about life than I did, and I always felt that they were always giving us proper direction. And so I thought, well, this might be the hand of the Lord telling me something, and maybe my time will come to share in some capacity or another, which, you know, it did later on because there again, too, then I was turned down from being a chaplain because I had an operation for cancer. I had a radical resection on my neck. I had three malignant tumors. And when I went to the navy, I went down in Boston to a Navy ad, and the bishop assigned me, called me into going to serve as a chaplain, and they refused my application on the grounds that I was -- I had cancer. LINDA: What year was this? LEO: Yeah, it was in 1951. It was the Korean War. So -- and then -- but that was years later. I always -- after I was ordained, I always felt at the time, well, not that I was being patriotic or anything, but I felt that all my classmates and the young men in my time had gone in and done their duty to the country and served. And so here was my chance in '50, in '51, and I was a priest, and I would go volunteer and then do my part. So I did. I volunteered, and when the bishop called me in to say that he was charging me to go and serve as a chaplain, I went down, but I was turned down.10 LINDA: Okay. Now when you left Holy Cross -- you left in 1943 to enter the seminary? LEO: Seminary. LINDA: And where did you go to seminary? LEO: We were all assigned to the Grand Seminary in Montreal, which was attached to the University of Montreal. LINDA: [Unintelligible - 00:26:40] LEO: No, our bishop then, Bishop O'Leary at the time, for some reason favored the seminary in Canada feeling that it was a very strict seminary, very rigid seminary, and that if you could last it out, then you really had a vocation. He felt that you really had the vocation. And they were very strict. But also there was -- it really wasn't because of the rigidity of the program, and it was a good program. But you know, intellectually it was a good program. But also, there were a lot of French people in the Springfield area, in the Springfield Diocese. And he felt very strongly that it wouldn't hurt to know one other language, for you as a priest to know another language in this area, which proved to be very true because after getting ordained, I used to hear a lot of French confessions even though I was in an Italian parish in Leominster. Parishioners from St. Cecilia would always come over to St. Anna's to confession. When I would go in to celebrate, even though I was in St. Mary's, the people at Notre Dame and Sacred Heart used to come to St. Mary's for confession. You know, another parish for confession. LINDA: Now why is that? LEO: And they were French. LINDA: Did they go to another parish because they didn't feel… LEO: Well, I think one of the things was that maybe they felt a priest in another -- it would be more private for them, you know? So they would come. And then there were other -- then too, it was the proximity of where they 11 were living. And sometimes our parishes were closer to them, the actual living residence, you know, for them to come to us. Those who lived would come to us. They wouldn't have to walk so far. LINDA: So you're saying that you did learn the French language? LEO: Oh, yeah. You had to then because in the seminary, everything was in Latin. Your books were in Latin. Your oral examinations were in Latin. Your written examinations were in Latin. Your texts were in Latin. Your class lectures were in Latin. And the only other language you heard was French. The spiritual lectures at night were in French. So you had to get to learn French. You know, we had to take French in the class, during classes there too. LINDA: Had you taken French at Holy Cross? LEO: I had taken French in high school. But at Holy Cross, I had taken the canon in Latin and Greek. But I never took French in college. But when we went up there, those two years, we had to study French. LINDA: So seminary school was two years? LEO: No, it was six years. LINDA: Six years. LEO: Six years. LINDA: Okay. LEO: So it was two years of philosophy and four years of theology. LINDA: That time, it must have been 1946. LEO: I was ordained -- I was ordained in December of '48, actually '49 was… LINDA: And where was this? LEO: My first assignment was in St. Thomas-a-Becket. LINDA: Where was that? LEO: In South Barre, Mass. LINDA: So maybe five months after that before you went to… LEO: I went from there to Leominster as an assistant, what we used to call a curate, the assistant curate. And I went down -- I went from there, from 1949 to 1951. So in 1951, I went to Leominster. And I went to St. Anna's 12 in Leominster in 1951 to 1953. And in 1953, I was then transferred to St. Mary's in Southbridge. And then in 1955, I was assigned to the Office of Catholic Charities in the diocese in Worcester; and I remained in Catholic Charities from 1955 to 1987. And then in '87, I was assigned to St. Anna's in Leominster, and then as pastor until 1992. No, no, no. Wait a minute. 1995. LINDA: '95? LEO: 1995. LINDA: And what happened after that? LEO: I was retired. LINDA: Retired. First of all, Italian. Did you speak Italian? LEO: I spoke a little at home. I used to speak with my mother, but my father always spoke English, so I didn't speak -- he didn't speak. My mother never really learned English. She would always speak Italian to us. She never even spoke any broken English but strictly Italian. 'Course we understood her. And then when I went into high school, I studied Italian. LINDA: When you were in high school? LEO: They started a new course, when I was in high school, teaching Italian in the public school system in Clinton. Then I took a couple of years of Italian there. That was funny. I was taking Italian, French, Latin, and English. And I used to sometimes get them confused a little bit, like sometimes my French teacher would say, "Well, that's an Italian word you're saying, not a French word." I had the facility to learn languages, and so I didn't mind it. I took -- I started learning languages and there just didn't seem to be any strain to the learning, you know, French or Italian or what. Then when I went to college at Holy Cross, my first three years at Holy Cross, I took Italian as a second language. LINDA: Did your mother urge you to become a priest?13 LEO: They always looked favorably upon it. They left it up to my decision. They never pushed me into it or anything like that. But they were always -- encouraged me along the way, you know, of what my intention was. My father was one who always said, "Well, you continue with school, and when the time comes, when you decide to be what you want to be, then we will do all we can to have you follow through." So my mother wasn't one that really, you know, would push us one way or another other than to be good and learn to do what is right in school and so forth. My mother never had much of an education herself in Italy and coming over here. Education was not a paramount factor in her life. She would just be very happy to see you succeed and so forth. I can find an example in the fact that they would go to mass and learn -- go to mission, canon missions and things like that, and their respect and reverence for religion before the Lord. I think those were the things that were the models for me. LINDA: Explain the Italian missions. LEO: Italian missions were -- because in Clinton, everything was in English. Every once in a while for the Italian immigrants who didn't speak English, the priest, the pastor used to have what they called a mission, Italian mission, and he would invite Italian-speaking priest into the parish for a week. And he would give a mission, like a retreat, you know, for just the Italian people so that they could go to communion and then go to confession, fulfill their obligations. See, at that time, it used to be like that you go at least to confession at least once during the year to fulfill your Easter duty and things like that. And this was the idea. This enabled them to go and speak with the priest, hear their language, hear the Word of God being preached to them in their 14 language that they understood, because a lot of them didn't understand English. LINDA: I had thought that the masses were said in Latin. LEO: They were said in Latin, but the sermons were always in English. Yeah. LINDA: So there wasn't an Italian-speaking sermon. LEO: No. The only ones at that time. There was one in Worcester. LINDA: Was that Our Lady of Mount Carmel? LEO: Yeah. And then there was one in Fitchburg. Those were the only two places during my growing up. And then later on, in 1937, St. Anna's in Leominster re-founded as a parish. But prior to that, there were only two locales in this area that had an Italian-speaking priest: Worcester, and later, Mount Carmel, and St. Anthony's in Fitchburg. LINDA: Now, when St. Anna's… LEO: You know, mother would go up every once in a while to go to confession there. But she would always attend mass at St. John's in Clinton. Because at that time, even though the sermon was in English, then the object was to attend mass, which was in Latin. And during the mass, they would pray and say their rosary and things like that. They had more personal devotion in celebration of the mass rather than in the sermon. The mass meant more to them than what was being said in the sermon. That was their faith, they were communing with the celebration of the mass, receiving communion, saying the rosary and prayers, and that meant more. Those were the acts of devotion, I think, for them. LINDA: Must have been… LEO: In Leominster. Yeah, I always worried more -- your first time or the ∂second time? LINDA: First time. LEO: Yeah. I was hoping that when I was ordained I would be assigned there. But for some reason or another -- I guess I was ordained thinking I was going to succumb to cancer. I had had the cancer operation my last year in the seminary, in my fourth year, and they didn't know whether I would be 15 living to be ordained in my class or whether they would ordain me before my time and before the rest of my class because of the nature of my illness. And at that time, when you were operated on for cancer, you had the -- they used to say the cure came -- wouldn't come until five years later. You had to wait five years to know whether you really got it or not. And so at that time, when I was first ordained, I know that the priest, the pastor who was at St. Anna's, wanted me to go there. LINDA: And who was that? LEO: It was Monsignor Gannon, Father Gannon. And I wanted to go there, too, because I liked him very much. But the bishop had other plans. He sent me to this small parish in South Barre, thinking, I suppose, for health reasons, it would be better for me to be in a small parish. But once Bishop O'Leary passed away and Bishop Wright became the bishop at the diocese, and Father Gannon or Monsignor Gannon then became the Chancellor of the Diocese, I was then sent up to St. Anna's in Leominster where he wanted me before and where I wanted to go before. So I was thrilled. To answer your question, I was thrilled to be at St. Anna's. I always loved that parish and still do. INDA: When you think of St. Anna's, what comes to your mind? LEO: Well, just I liked the people there, and I just liked everything about the spirit that prevailed there. I think I was young at the time, and the people were very cooperative. And no matter what you turned your hand to, it turned into success. And it was a source of great joy and great happiness for me to be working among these people and in the course they were going. LINDA: Were you the first Italian priest to be there? LEO: I was the first Diocesan Italian. When I was -- there was a pastor there when Monsignor Gannon went to become Chancellor, Father John Bassey then became the first Italian priest at St. Anna's, and I became the second.16 LINDA: Were your parents… LEO: Yeah. LINDA: How did they feel about you? LEO: Oh, they liked that. They enjoyed that, because they knew a lot of people too from the area, from Leominster. Leominster and Clinton are very close to one another. And there were a lot of mutual friendships that they had in this area. So they were very pleased with my being there. LINDA: What kinds of duties did you have, first as assistant? LEO: Well, you did everything, you know. You were in charge of the religious education. And you were having the altar boys, to take care of training the altar boys at the time. You had the religious education classes for the children who were going to public schools, setting up the classes for that and the courses for it. You had all of the duties, you know, like visiting the sick and going up to the hospital. At that time, at that time too we had, you know, a lot of activity for the youngsters, the different basketball teams that you were in charge of. But then also putting on activities, different activities. Each year, we put on a minstrel show, and we'd be involved in a lot of the direction of that. So there were all kinds of spiritual activities that you were involved in. You had your hand in almost everything except the administration in the parish. You really did all other work that was assigned to a parish and to a priest. LINDA: So it was much like being a pastor? LEO: Right, right, right. It was very active, very fulfilling. I enjoyed the task, I really did. As I said, the people were great. I mean, they cooperated. One of the great things was having a Humane Society, which was for men. I had the Men's Society; the pastor had the Women's Society. We had built ourselves up to over 400, about 450 men. We used to go to communion as a group every year. Every month we'd have 17 [unintelligible - 00:46:22] Sunday. That was a great joy and task, but I enjoyed it, at Leominster. And the other great thing was I had great rapport with the young people, and especially the high school youngsters and the football team. I used to hear their confessions before the football games. They used to come to communion every Saturday morning before the game. And you'd have all these young high school kids come in to confession on Friday night and then coming to mass on -- even public school kids. We even had the parochial school kids. And they'd come to mass on Saturday morning and they'd receive communion and go home and play football games in the afternoon. That was another wonderful thing that happened that I did. LINDA: Was there a school affiliated? LEO: At that time, no. But that was another great accomplishment that I was there to initiate the beginning of a school and to be in charge of developing a parochial school in the parish that we started. And then the task of setting up the classrooms for the first two classes, the pre-primary and the first grade, and building the classrooms for them and later on laying the plans for the school. So that happened in my time. And I remember saying to the bishop that this was the only thing that the parish lacked at the time was our own parish school. LINDA: When did the school open? LEO: It opened in 1951. LINDA: Was that when you were assigned to Leominster? LEO: It opened up in '53, I'm sorry… '53. LINDA: Okay. You accomplished all that in two short years? LEO: At the school, yeah. Like the first and second grade, but then I was transferred after -- then following that, the school was built. Right after I left, they started to build a school for the other grades that were to follow. LINDA: Okay.18 LEO: There were really no major areas of concern, I don't think, other than they wanted their parish, and then they wanted various services. They wanted educational programs for their children, religious educational programs for their children. And they were very -- the women were tremendous at St. Anna's. St. Anna's Society was a terrific group of women who worked hard and who ran spaghetti suppers and raised money in order to build and redecorate the church and keep different things going to provide for a rectory. And they were very tremendous and very, very much engaged in the parish in order to keep things moving and growing and building. It was really nice and remained -- it was impressive, you know. And at that time when I was there, they had a great program of religious devotions and activities and social activities that brought them together and enabled them to have a wonderful spirit within the community and the parish. LINDA: How did you feel -- I mean, not St. John's but Holy Cross? LEO: It didn't bother me at all. I mean, I just was treated very fairly. I never felt any kind of bias against me or toward me. And I felt I had every opportunity that everyone else did there. I don't think I was looked down upon in any way because I was Italian. I think the whole atmosphere was very good. It was all up to you to do what you -- I was going to Holy Cross because it was a good school and [congregation]. And I never had any -- being Italian never bothered me because there were so many other kids in my class that were Italian. LINDA: At Holy Cross? LEO: At Holy Cross. Especially, you know, from New York and the New York area, other areas of the country. It didn't bother me, you know. LINDA: Did you feel the same way at the seminary? LEO: At the seminary, it was the same. I really never felt that the Italian got in the way, you know, being Italian. The way people accepted you and 19 treated you was, you know, it was [unintelligible - 00:52:51]. You know, you may have to take this off. LINDA: Okay. We had an interruption. We stopped just for a few minutes to make sure that this is working. So please stand by. Okay. LEO: All right. LINDA: Did your parents always feel as accepted as you did, do you think, being Italian? LEO: I think my father had a hard time in the beginning when he came over because at that time, I know he had trouble going to church, in the upper church, that they were not allowed to go up and attend mass in the upper church. LINDA: What does that mean, the upper church? LEO: Well, at St. John's, there was a lower -- there was a church, a lower church and an upper church. You know, two floors, two levels. And in order to go into the upper church -- I think he used to have some troubles because if you didn't have what you called the coinage, the coin of the realm to go in, you were told to go downstairs to mass. And that bothered him. But then after a while, that changed, and it never endangered my father's faith. But it was very hard for him to take initially to be restricted as to where he would go in church, you know. So, you get over that. But I am… LINDA: And when did that stop? LEO: Oh, I think that stopped when he was older, when he was able -- when he became more [unintelligible - 00:55:10] and had the money to pay the initial [unintelligible - 00:55:14] lying on that seat, what they used to call the arbitrary fee in church. And he went in. 20 But see, the Gannon people never had to use money or to give money initially. The state financed the churches usually, so the people were never asked for money. LINDA: Let's stop for one minute, please. LEO: Yeah. LINDA: Linda Rosenbaum again, and we have continued the interview. … explaining about your father, how he felt a little different than you about being Italian because of probably the period of time. LEO: Right. LINDA: And you explained the church in Clinton, and then you were explaining the churches where they were not funded by the people. LEO: Right. And so that was strange for an immigrant, and especially Italian immigrants, to come over here and be expected to give money in order to go to church, for a seat fee and things like that, because they never had that practice in Italy. And at the time, they just didn't understand it. And they weren't ready for it then. But once he got on to the fact that this was the way it is here in this country, then he began to pay for his seat fee, as they called it, the pew fee, and then he -- then there was no problem at all. Although at times -- you see, in Clinton, Clinton was strongly Irish. It's an Irish community, a lot of Irish in Clinton at the time. The Polish had their church, and there weren't many French people in Clinton. The majority were either the Irish Catholics and Italian Catholics. I remember that's where Protestant people, especially in certain sections of the town. So at first there was -- at times, it was difficult to be -- yeah, some people would probably show great prejudice against the Italians in Clinton. In growing up, you know, sometimes you'd hear it. You know, you'd get a flavor of it. But it never seemed to be that much, and my father never 21 made much of it. He never, you know, exposed us to any difficulty in this regard or complained about any difficulty in this regard. He got along very well. He had a wonderful personality and then being a barber, he was well-liked in town, and he got along very well. And then they used to have their own little Italian community, their clubs, and they would go together and sit down, have their own socialization periods together. They would play cards or they'd have their own little friendly meetings in their clubs. And so it didn't seem to bother anyone. But every once in a while, you might get a flare-up of the Irish, being a little strong against the Italians. LINDA: Can you remember anything specific? LEO: Nothing really. I don't remember anything, none that I ever got hurt by, you know. You know, you just have that idea of having experienced or heard it said, you know, or some remark made. But then, you'd say, oh, it's that individual. It's not that whole class of people. It's that individual that has prejudice or bias. But there were feelings, there's no question about it, at times. Because you were Italian you didn't get the jobs or you didn't get the positions in school and things like this, you know. The teaching positions, the Italians didn't get a job as a teacher because of… But that was all political then because they would -- you had to run for an office or have somebody in office to kind of vote you in on the school committee. That was kind of a political thing where the majority of people voting for these committee members were Irish, and they would be the ones who would be in charge of making decisions for these appointments. So it was pretty hard to break the barriers there. But after, you know, really after the war, a lot of that all came crumbling down, you know. LINDA: After World War II?22 LEO: Yeah. During -- you know what I mean, everyone was involved in the war. And all families were there, and young men from all nationalities were involved, and so that whole idea of [unintelligible - 01:01:47] hear this, sometimes I did. But I know I didn't, no more than some place. Some of the Irish Leprechaun Club, you know, I was an honorary member of the Leprechaun Club, you know. LINDA: When was that? Was that in Clinton? LEO: Yeah. Yeah, that was some years ago now. But you know, I think that's -- you wouldn't see that, I don't think, around here now because they're in all kinds of professions in Clinton. LINDA: Uh-huh. LEO: And activities, and so… LINDA: So was that quite an honor, getting an award from the Leprechaun Club? LEO: Well, it was -- to me, it kind of showed that the biases were diminished, you know; that those who were not Irish were getting an award from this Irish Society, so to speak. LINDA: Do you remember about the year that you were awarded this? LEO: No, [unintelligible - 01:02:58]. LINDA: We can look for it later and I can insert that information. But it was not while you -- was it while you were living in Clinton? LEO: No. LINDA: No? LEO: No, I was there, but it was after I was a priest. LINDA: Okay. You were a priest. LEO: Yeah. LINDA: So tell me a little bit about the social clubs you had mentioned. I was thinking of a few things. A, there wasn't an Italian parish in Clinton. LEO: They had the Sons of Italy, the lodge of the Sons of Italy. And one group of Italians gravitated toward that. And then… LINDA: You mean from a particular region?23 LEO: Yeah. They'd be from different regions, you know, or different ideas, you know. There were those who felt that a man should have control of what the society has to say. They didn't want to be paying dues to national societies, you know. And for nationals to be taking away some of the money from the town in order to be supported. That was like -- that was the other group, what they called the Liberty Society; they [had too many progressive] Liberty Society. They were a group of Italians who felt that they had their own social group. But they would run things on their own, and whatever monies they made and so forth would benefit just them. And they would develop their own programs, their own health programs and sick programs and their activities, social activities programs. And so there were the two factions: The Sons of Italy and the Liberty Society. And there were groups, different groups, depending on who you were, and sometimes what sections of Italy you came from that was going to be different, these different groups. But it enabled the groups to have something, and they felt strength in their group, their union, and they were able to do things and accomplish things that would benefit them. So they were pleased with this. LINDA: Which group did your parents…? LEO: My father first belonged to the Sons of Italy, but then he decided to form and become a member of the other group, the Liberty Society. They didn't feel to try to be tied in on a national level. They felt that they could do more for themselves by having their own little organization of their own. LINDA: So did you say that he was a founding member? LEO: Yeah, he would have been a founding member in the Liberty Society. LINDA: And what year was that? LEO: Oh, boy. That would have been in the '30s sometime, early '30s. LINDA: And did your mother get involved with any of these societies?24 LEO: My mother was very -- was never very socially inclined, you know, in that respect. She was a homebody. Her home was everything. Her home and her family were everything, and her own little circle of friends. She had her own little circle of Italian ladies. LINDA: Were they all child-raising like her? LEO: No, no, they weren't. But they were in the neighborhood. They were Italian women in the neighborhood. They were never [unintelligible - 01:06:54], no. They were at different ones, some were in average homes. LINDA: Was there ever a language problem between the Italians? LEO: Between the Italians? LINDA: The different dialects? LEO: Not really. LINDA: No? LEO: No. I never encountered any. But my mother just would -- like, when I used to try to get my mother to go out to dinner, you know, she would always say, "No, we can eat at home." She just wasn't a really social butterfly. She was a hard worker and a great cook. Everyone used to love to come there to eat. LINDA: What kinds of things did she make? LEO: Oh, she'd make everything—[gnocchi], ravioli, lamb, all kinds of spaghetti, tortellini, manicotti, lasagna. She was a tremendous cook. One year we had the bar mitzvah. She made eggplant, you know, parmesan, veal cutlets, you know, all these wonderful foods, different types of chicken, cacciatore. She did all kinds of Italian cooking. And she used to bake, make her breads. She -- my mother used to get up early in the morning and prepare meals, you know. We only had a meal -- we always had three meals, you know, one with lunch and one with dinner at night. But then… LINDA: Was it just your sister?25 LEO: And my uncle. My mother's brother lived with us. Yeah. My four sisters. LINDA: Oh, four sisters. LEO: Yes. Four sisters and myself. [Unintelligible - 01:09:07] LINDA: Were you also the youngest? LEO: No, I was next to the youngest. But I always would get the choice piece. My mother would always make sure I was well taken care of. That used to get me angry at times because I didn't like to be shown favoritism at times. But she -- as I say, she didn't like going to these social -- these clubs. She just stayed at home. I don't know if she was shy or what. I think she was just happy in her home with her family, going with her family, going with her little group of friends. She had three or four Italian ladies, and they would come here. I remember them going out every week, they would make the circle, you know, go from one house to the other houses, spend the afternoon with each other and gab and knit and crochet. And then they had their little cordial drink, you know. And it was good. You know, it was always a great consolation. You know, you always come home and she'd always be there, you know. You never came home from school to an empty house or something. But she was always there. And if she wasn't there, you knew where she was. You knew she was at [the neighbor's], you know, this lady or that lady's home, whoever's turn it was. LINDA: It sounds like education was very important to your family. Was it important to your sisters as well? LEO: Oh, yeah. My father -- yeah, my sisters all -- they all wanted to learn, my sisters. One went to -- two went to training in the same business. One went to Boston College and earned a degree in nursing. And the other went to Georgetown and earned her degree in nursing. Then they went on and got their master's degree.26 And then my younger sister went to business school, you know. She picked up the business. She first started out as a lab technician, but then she didn't like it. And she then picked up a secretarial course. And then my oldest sister was a hairdresser. She wanted to be a hairdresser, so -- but my father always kind of encouraged education. He realized he didn't have it. And had he had an education, he would have done more. But he really maintained that we should go ahead and have a -- he encouraged us to go on. LINDA: What kinds of personal… LEO: Personal? Well, as a priest, it's kind of hard to tie into too many personal -- I got along. I tried to get along with everybody. I spoke up on personal things. They used to drive me around because we didn't have cars at that time. Wherever I wanted to go places or do something, I'd have to rely on somebody driving me, you know. LINDA: What were their names? LEO: One was [Analita Tarsey]. And then there was [Ben Veeny], and then the men of the parish. And [Bucky Angelini]. And [Chuck Antelushi]. He's around -- would be helpful to [unintelligible - 01:13:43]. Do you know Ann? LINDA: I don't know her. LEO: Yeah. And her husband. They're in this area. [Unintelligible - 01:13:58] Priest, you know, very personal. She'd do a lot to help me out. And then I was getting teachers for teaching religious classes, you know, religion classes. We had asked her to serve in this capacity. And I remember when I went back as pastor, I wanted her to become the president of the [Sahara] Society, which she did and did very well. And then when I suggested her name for Our Father's House for the homeless in the Fitchburg area, then she became the chairperson for three terms. So 27 I don't know how many terms she had. She must have been the chairperson for the [Madison] Society for a good ten years. Yeah. LINDA: What type of social clubs were there? LEO: They were -- each, it seemed that each province, different provinces of Italy -- you had the [Markagerian], the Singer or Giovani group where they had their own little social club. You had these -- I already said Giovani Club. We had the Santa Maria, their own convent, they were another group from Point [Saray] and St. James and those places. And then you had the Costo Novito, their group. And then other -- there were probably about three or four different. Salladini, the [Giovani], the Salladini Society. They were people from Pretaria and Commo and those places. Yeah, I would say there were about four or five major social clubs, Italian social clubs in Leominster. The only thing that ever united them was the church, you know. Otherwise, they would stay by themselves out here, you know. But the only thing that they kind of worked together on and would get behind together would be the church. And that was the unifying factor that brought them together in Leominster. They never -- and that was a funny thing, you know. You'd see them, the American Giovani would have their own club, the [Vergini] would have theirs. And then you have all the other people. I mean, they were all different groups. And, but then the church brought them together, and they'd get behind the church. And they were very strong and good. They worked together. They worked well together for the church then. But now most of those -- see, those were the old-timers. Today, you don't -- among the young, you don't see that. You don't see those clubs now in Leominster.28 But that was a way for them meeting together. You know, when they came over as immigrants, in the twenties and thirties, this is where they found their strength, in unity, in their own social gatherings, in their groups. Because, you know, no one else would bother with them, you know. LINDA: It's remarkable that they were able to contribute to not only -- there were conflicts there? LEO: Between each other? LINDA: In the church. LEO: In the church, no. LINDA: Perhaps… LEO: The church -- well, the reason was in the church, they had tremendous pastors. They had great leaders. They were with Monsignor Gannon, who first organized and founded St. Anna's Church. He was dearly, dearly revered by the people, and they would do anything for him. And then so on with the pastors who came along. I must say, they were very dedicated and devoted and loyal to their church and to their priests. They were always nice. They did church communion and would get along very well. LINDA: Did we -- I'm sorry. Go ahead. LEO: No, I just remembered, like the Holy Name Society when there were 450 members. And they'd each have their group line up and come to church, and they were from all different sections of Italy. They were unified in that communion of faith./AT/pa/ke/es

Issue 54.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Mis'souri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for com~nercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NVUMBER4 contents 486 499 5O8 mission Twenty Inner-City Years Joanna Bramble, CSJ explores feelings, questions, and insights from her effort to revitalize an inner-city neighborhood and empower its people. Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor Margaret MaW Knittel RSM raises some questions which suggest a fluidity of vision and a loosening of ties in regard to corporate sponsorship and the fruits of our labor. Retirement's Wisdom Years Catherine M. Harmer MMS proposes that retirement for religious may be a time of deepening wisdom and individuation and a time for a greater spirituality to emerge. 519 531 guidance The Enneagram Tad Dunne examines understandings of the enneagram and suggests ways of moving to a larger world of meaning and values. Imaging Spiritual Direction Mary Vginifred CHS discusses guidelines for spiritual direction and presents three images illustrative of the relationship between director and directee. 535 56O heritage The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs Mary C. Sullivan RSM highlights the prayer of personal conversion wi{h its many gifts as captured by Teresa of Avila in her rich metaphor of "dwelling places." Playing with Edged Tools Donald Macdonald SMNI allows the thought of John Henry Newman to enter us into a richer appreciation of vowed public profession as a part of radical gospel living. 482 Review for Religious spirituality 566 How Am I Doing? Signs of a Healthy Spirituality Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some indicators for checking on how healthy our spirituality is. 573 Appreciating God through Creation Roderick Payne OFM illuminates the heritage of St. Francis to draw attention to some aspects of prayer through creation. 585 589 594 6OO religious life Individualism and Rel!gious Life John Gallagher CSB reflects on three options dealing with the compatibility of contemporary individualism in relation to religious life. Psychological Screening for Religious Life Kevin E. McKenna reviews the help given by the Code of Canon Law for religious congregations attempting to form a consistent policy regarding psychological reports at the time of admission and the maintenance of personnel records. Reformulating the Religious Vows William Reiser SJ reviews the meaning of vows in religious life and suggests that an option for the poor might be a promise for our times. Let's Talk Again about Poverty Richard J. DeMaria CFC probes the meaning of poverty for religious-life practice today. ¯departments 484 Prisms 615 Canonical Counsel: Cloister for Nuns: From the Early Centuries to the 1917 Code 622 Book Reviews ~tuly-August 1995 483 prisms Pope John Paul's two recent docu-ments offer vision and direction: the apostolic letter Orientale lumen (The Light of the East) and the encyclical Ut unum sint (On Commitment to Ecumenism). More than helps to enter into the third millennium, they issue a call to conversion. In Orientale lumen the pope emphasizes that our Eastern Catholic and our Orthodox brothers and sisters are earnest bearers of a venerable and ancient tradition integral to the church's heritage. He calls for all members of the church's Latin tradition to become fully acquainted with this treasure. He desires us all to be fired by a pas-sionate longing that the church's catholicity become man-ifest to church members themselves and to the world, a catholicity comprising the several traditions together rather than in opposition to one another. John Paul uses monasticism as a special vantage point from which we can identify values important today for expressing the contribution of the Christian East to the journey of Christ's church towards the kingdom. In the East, monasticism, which did not experience the differ-ent kinds of apostolic life as in the West, is seen not merely as a separate category of Christians, but rather as a refer-ence point for all the baptized, according to the gifts offered to each by the Lord. John Paul singles out the common traits uniting the monastic experience of the East and the West and forming a bridge of fellowship, "where unity as it is lived shines even more brightly than may appear in the dialogue between the churches." lie empha-sizes the splendid witness of nuns in the Christian East: "This witness has offered an example of giving full value in the church to what is specifically feminine, even break- 484 Review for Religious ing through the mentality of the time. During recent persecu-tions, especially in Eastern European countries, when many male monasteries were forcibly closed, female monasticism kept the torch of the monastic life burning. The nun's charism, with its own specific characteristics, is a visible sign of that motherhood of God to which Sacred Scripture often refers" (9). Among the values reflected in monasticism for the life of the church, the pope highlights 1) a balance in Christian life lived as a personal response to an individual call and as an ecclesial and community event; 2) a liturgy revealing the proper harmony of the baptized-in-Christ and the eucharistic meaning of all creation; 3) a maturing journey in terms of knowing self and being free and able to love as Jesus loves; 4) a tradition of spiritual guidance from brothers and sisters to whom the Spirit has granted this gift; 5) a community showing us a life of communion and service beginning in the family and extending to the wider community; 6) a unity of theology and spirituality deriving from the triune God--the principle and foundation of the Christian understand-ing that the human person is meant for and made for relation-ship; and 7) an all-pervading mystery, enveloped in awe, with which the face of our God presents us. In still wider ways the encyclical Ut unum sint continues the call to deepen the unity we seek with one another and with God. Insisting that the unity of all Christians is God's will and is at the heart of the mission Christ entrusted to his followers, John Paul begs forgiveness for times when Catholics and the papacy itself have contributed to the divisions among Christians and calls for discussion about ways in which the pope can exercise power and authority in a reunited church. He notes that a heritage of saints belonging to all communities provides hope for the dialogue of conversion. "When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it not only the institutions, rites, means of salvation and the traditions which all the communities have pre-served and by which they have been shaped, but first and foremost this reality of holiness" (84). The urgency of building for the future out of the strengths of Christian heritages marks both of these papal writings. We, like the pope, need to set our sights on this unifying and evangelizing mission of all Christians, thereby living up to religious life's own spiritual heritages. David L. Fleming sJ a~uly-August 1995 485 rnissJon JOANNA BRAMBLE Twenty Inner-City Years After almost twenty years of working towards the revital-ization of West Oakland, a depressed inner-city neigh-borhood, I took a year's sabbatical of travel and spiritual enrichment. In the middle of that year, I decided not to return as director of Jubilee West, the Community Development Corporation I had helped to create. I real-ized that I had unresolved feelings about my years in West Oakland, feelings and questions that I needed to work through before I could move on to the next steps in my work for justice. The reflections below document my liv-ing with those questions. What are my usual feelings about Jubilee West? I feel proud of what it has accomplished, but often I feel deep sadness for the people whose lives have changed very lit-tle, especially the ones I knew well and tried the hardest to help. I feel deep sadness at the unemployment, the drugs, the depressed people, and the piles of garbage that are evident with only a brief drive through the neighbor-hood. I often have an overwhelming sense of failure and powerlessness: so much of my life, love, work, anxiety, joy, hope . . . and so many people still with such con-stricted lives! I feel sadness and grief that the neighbor-hood where I worked for so long was worse after twenty Joanna Bramble CSJ is a consultant to nonprofit organizations in management and program analysis and a member of the provincial council of the Los Angeles province of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. Her address is 529 Jean Street; Oakland, California 94610. 486 Review for Religious years than it was before. It is not that our work did not change anything or made it worse; it just could never do enough. But the main cause of continuing disintegration in that neigh-borhood is not my and others' lack of effort or creative ideas. It is high unemployment and the increasing sale and use of drugs, along with other systemic oppression. How do I keep aware of the interrelatedness of many situations and people and things and somehow see my place as both important and unimportant? What was the situation I came to in 1973? And what did I want to achieve? The 1970 census and the Oakland 701 Study gave the following statistics about the West of Cypress area: ¯ 80 percent black and 18 percent Mexican American ¯ median family income: $3,941 ¯ unemployment rate 26.3 percent for men, 35.7 percent for women ¯ 50 percent of families on welfare; mean welfare income $2,110 ¯ 90 percent of the houses had been expected to be unusable by 1969 (most of these houses are still standing in 1995) ¯ median number of school years completed: 8.4 ¯ 24 percent of people over twenty-five years of age were high school graduates Residents listed their major problems as limited incomes and a high rate of unemployment, extremely poor housing, and poor-quality education. All of these problems still exist and are complex and interrelated. I chose to come to this depressed environment from eleven years of teaching English in white, suburban Catholic high schools. I had interest, concern, compassion, energy, enthusiasm, high hopes . . . and two months of training in community orga-nizing. I remember walking through the neighborhood and mentally singing the words to "Anatevka" from Fiddler on the Roof, newly popular then. The song speaks of the nothingness of the town: "people who pass through Anatevka do not even know they have been here., someone should have set a match to this place years ago." That is what West Oakland looked like to me. But the song goes on to describe Anatevka as home: "where else could Sabbath be so sweet., where I know everyone I meet." That too was West Oakland. It did not take me long to get to know friendly people, many of whom had lived there for years. I walked the streets and .~ly-August 199~ 487 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years sat in people's kitchens to discuss neighborhood problems. Soon some longtime residents and I started the West Oakland Improvement Association. What did I want to achieve? Mainly, I did not want a repeat of Anatevka; I did not want people displaced to make room for gentrification or other forms of development. In 1974 I wrote that my major goal was to help increase the peo-ple's awareness of their power to direct their own lives. Over the next twenty years, I became more deeply aware of the immense problems in people's lives and in the physical neigh-borhood. What I wanted to do both stayed the same and evolved, as did the strategies we used. Always there was the goal of empow-erment. As a community organizer I wanted us to win on issues that people had chosen as urgent concerns. More importantly, I wanted to build an organization that could continue to empower people and revitalize the neighborhood. We won on many issues. Our victories brought pride and increased self-confidence to a number of neighborhood people. But building an organization never really happened. People seemed too concerned with per-sonal survival to stay involved very long. It became more and more difficult to talk with people about community problems when they were concerned with getting enough food for their kids, paying the rent, and dealing with drug problems. These survival issues prompted me and my good friend Sister Pat Sears to start St. Patrick's Center at the Campbell Village Housing Project, where we saw to basic necessities, providing food, clothes, counseling, and a youth program. But decent afford-able housing remained the most urgent problem. Concern about people who were being displaced or were living in substandard housing, inspiration from Jubilee Housing in Washington, D.C., lots of participation from neighborhood people and suburban friends, and awillingness to step into the unknown with faith and hope led me and Pat to start Jubilee West as a nonprofit Community Development Corporation in 1980. We immediately began to buy and fix houses for poverty-level people even though we knew nothing about real estate or construction and had almost no money. Jubilee West also continued and expanded the com-munity services and youth programs begun at St. Patrick's Center. What successes can Jubilee West celebrate over the last fifteen years? Eighty units of scattered-site housing, most of it perma-nently affordable to poverty-level families: five million dollars in property assets removed from speculation and able to be con- 488 Review for Religious trolled by the community far into the future; hundreds of children helped with tutoring and enrichment; many others helped with mentoring and private scholarships to attend college; hundreds of adults placed in jobs, coming to literacy and ESL classes, or receiv- .ing emergency food, clothing, and needed counseling; and an his-toric building rehabilitated to accommodate various community events and to house the offices for other services. When I left, Jubilee West had a committed board of directors, a staff of varying degrees of competence, and a good funding base, although financial crises were and continue to be frequent. So why do I frequently feel like a failure? Mainly because I very much wanted to do something "for the people in the houses" more than just fixing houses and lowering rents and because I feel that most people's lives are not changed very much from what they were before. As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never mar-ried, with three or four children from different fathers. She has about a tenth-grade education, has never held a paying job, has very poor nutrition, and probably has an alcohol or drug problem. If she is not in JW housing or other subsidized housing, she may pay as much as 60 or 70 percent of her AFDC income in rent, leaving her less than $200 per month for all other expenses. She has no car, and so her experiences and those of her children are mostly limited to the West Oakland neighborhood. She appears depressed and apathetic or else quite hostile. So what did I wantJW to do for this woman? I wanted us to empower her to enrich her own life. What did I mean by this? How would I hope to be able to describe her after a .few years? I have thought a lot about my hopes for her, and I recently became aware that they are similar to my unrealistic goals for myself: As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never married, with three or four children from different fathers. .~uly-/lugust 199~ 489 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years I want her to have succeeded in or be in the process of get-ting off drugs, getting more education, finding a job and then a better job, stabilizing her family, getting enough income to move out of subsidized housing, deepening her spiritual values, becoming more psychologically whole, building community with her neighbors, keeping her house clean, taking care of her kids, and working for change in the neighborhood through participating in JW and other organizations. I want her to stay in the neighborhood or come back after she succeeds in order to help the commu-nity work for justice. As I write this, it seems so unrealistic that I want to add face-tiously that she should also be thin and beautiful, but not care too much about her looks. Obviously, one reason I feel like a fail-ure is that I had very unrealizable expectations. Only a few peo-ple could achieve the hbove, and only with superhuman effort or lots of good luck. I wanted my "typical" person to be aware of her power to change and control her own life. That sounds like a good goal. But perhaps my biggest mistake was that I did not give enough conscious acknowledgment to the reality of systemic oppression. When she tries to change in other than very small ways, she runs up against huge obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult if not impossible for her to "control her own life." Only a few really "win" in her situation; but, because those few do win, she feels that she too should be able to win. She blames herself and society also blames her, telling her in many ways that it is her fault. In some ways I contribute to this when I talk about "self-help" without at the same time talking about systemic oppres-sion. Her self-blame does not give her more energy to "fight the system" and to make small and then larger changes in her life; instead it leads to depression, apathy, or hostility. Similarly my self-blame, my feeling myself a failure for not being able to empower her, does not give me more energy to fight the system; in me also it leads to depression, apathy, and sometimes hostility. Issues of injustice in economics, politics, and education are profoundly interrelated. A minimum wage that inserts working people into the poverty level without enough money to pay the rent, a business economy dependent on a certain percent of unem-ployment, thousands of job layoffs so that even many people with good educations are unlikely to keep their jobs that pay a living wage, unjust distribution of wealth including "hidden" subsidies 490 Review for Religious for the rich (whereby more money is "spent" on tax write-offs for interest on home-ownership loans than on all the housing programs for the poor), drug traffic that brings huge profits to a few wealthy people, a welfare system that discourages work, the worst schools usually in the poorest areas, housing thought of as an investment for profit rather than a home to live in, pervasive discrimination against minorities, especially African-American males--these are only a few examples of the interconnected sys-tems that cause my "typical" person's situation. I have known all this for a long time. Did I fail to keep it in my awareness because I felt I could do little about it and I like solvable problems? In any case, I concentrated on self-help pro-grams-- how soon I found that often they do not succeed either! Each person in any self-help program must "choose life" for her-self, of course, and begin to act on her own behalf while at the same time society, "the system," must stop oppressing her. Both are interrelated. But as I reflected on my Jubilee West experience, I still heard the same familiar inner voices of my own self-blame. If only I had been smarter, worked harder, tried something more creative, then I could have made a bigger dent in solving these problems. At this point I was fortunate to come across the book Surplus Powerlessness by Michael Lerner. Lerner first talks about real pow-erlessness, the reality of an unequal distribution of power in this society: If a small number of us try to change things, we will run up against a brick wall. In fact, even if millions of people were to engage in activity to change things, in the short run we would find our society very difficult to change. The brick wall is not just a subjective illusion. The basic fact is this: American society is a class-dom-inated society. A small number of people have vast eco-nomic power while the overwhelming.majority has almost no power in the economic realm. Economic power gives that small group a huge amount of political power. While the rest of us have some political power, it takes vast expen-ditures of energy and time to win small victories. But to say that the elites of wealth and power have over-whelming power is not to say that they have absolute power. Things could be quite different if many people were to engage in the struggle for change. It would be a real strug-gle- and there would be many difficult defeats.~ After talking about realpowerlessness, Lerner describes surplus ~uly-Augus~ 199Y 4.91 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years powerlessness as "the set of feelings and beliefs that make people think of themselves as even more powerless than the actual power sit-uation requires, and then leads them to act in ways that actually con-firm them in their powerlessness." He is describing me when he shows how many activists continually manage to redefine the con-ditions of success in such a way that they always feel "one down" for not having accomplished enough; they redefine their victo-ries as failures and do not credit their own real accomplishments. I certainly do that often. Lerner reminds us that when society claims it is set up in a fundamentally fair way, in which people can make it if they really try, powerlessness is seen as a product of the individual's personal failures. Thus self-blame becomes the central element in surplus powerlessness. It grows stronger every time we blame ourselves for having failed in some important way and have no compassion for ourselves in view of all the ways that reality pushes us to be less than we want to be. Taking responsibility for one's own life works only for the part of the population and for the societal issues where objective conditions allow for real change. People need help to distinguish between factors out of their control about which they could be legitimately angry and factors that would change if they changed how they thought about themselves and how they lived their own lives. Surplus powerlessness, self-blame, deflects attention from the real problems and hence from any real solutions. The anger that might be reasonably directed against a social order which gener-ates personal unhappiness is instead directed inwards and becomes depression or a dangerous buildup of repressed violence. But Lerner's next point is also part of my" experience. Once people are no longer disempowered by self-blaming, they are in a better position to change their environment. Surplus power-lessness can be lessened by supportive group interaction and by developing compassion, showing people that the problems they face do not come from personal inadequacies, but are faced by others as well, and that people need one another's help in facing these problems. My reflection on Lerner's concept of surplus powerlessness shows me that I have been blaming the victims, both my typical West Oakland person and myself. I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. 492 Review for Religious But, to avoid the extreme of blaming others for my problems, I frequently go to the extreme of not giving much acknowledg-ment to the real powerlessness in my life, to the real systems that are oppressing me as well as my typical West Oakland person. At this point in my reflection, I read Joanna Macy's books Despair and Personal Power and World as Lover, World as Self about the need to feel pain, experience it, work through it: my pain and the pain of others. I see that as a big clue for me. I went back to my sabbatical journal written in Washington, D.C., in 1992. One of the questions in Mary Cosby's class on "call" was "What is your deepest pain?" I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much personal pain. Actually my greatest pain seems to be feel-ing the pain of others: so many homeless people on the street, so many hurting children, so much violence in the world., and feel-ing powerless to do very much about any of this." A few days later at a creative-movement session I felt overcome by sorrow and tears. I kept feeling, saying, crying to myself: "I didn't know how to make it better for people. I am so sad about that ¯ ¯ . sad because people were not helped, not so much that I couldn't help but that they weren't helped., thinking of Sylvia, Spring, Connie, Deedee, Charetta, Pat, A1, Brenda . . . tears because I couldn't do it, but more because life did not change for them . " I remember feeling that I must be avoiding some deeper personal pain if the major pain I was aware of was pain for the world, for other people. Now I see that a major need for me is to feel my pain, which greatly includes pain for the world. Joanna Macy says in Despair and Personal Power: "We have trouble cred-iting the notion that concerns for the general welfare might be acute enough to cause distress., but pain for our world touches each of us, and this pain is rooted in caring., our apparent pub-lic apathy is but a fear of experiencing and expressing this pain, and once it is acknowledged and shared it opens the way to our power." 2 I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. July-August 199Y 493 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years During that semester in 1992, I picked up an old journal from 1988, specifically looking for how I dealt at that time with my pain over the distressing situations I experienced daily at Jubilee West. A pattern seemed to be: I would run into a small or large problem that was usually a symptom of a larger systemic problem; feel frustrated and ptwerless; think I should be able to solve it; blame myself because I could not; go to bed depressed, wake up with somehow more energy ready to try again, to think up some new way to address the problem . . . but rarely allow myself to really feel my own pain and sadness. Although many people were involved in Jubilee West, I always felt myself ultimately respon-sible. I also frequently neglected my deep need to gift myself with beauty and nourishment for my soul. I have always felt a great desire for silence, solitude, beauty, prayer--for finding ways to experience the sacred in all of life. But I often let compulsive efforts to solve problems rob me of the centeredness necessary for living and acting from a contemplative way of being. As a step in the process of"living the questions" and of writ-ing this article, I walked around the West Oakland neighborhood visiting some of my longtime friends. I had not been able to do this since leaving Jubilee West three years ago; when we moved away last fall, I just disappeared without telling many people that I was going. So this walk was a pilgrimage for remembering and finding cause to grieve and cause to rejoice. What do I learn for myself from all of this reading and reflec-tion and from my recent pilgrimage of walking in West Oakland? What does my inner wisdom tell me? What follows are some exploratory answers as I live the questions: 1. Feel your pain, take time for it. your personal pain and that of the West Oakland people that you care about, and the world that 'faces the possibility of total destruction. Allowing myself to feel pain is hard to do; I am more used to giving thirty seconds to pain and then moving on to possible solu-tions. But, on my walk through West Oakland, I was more able to be with the pain of what I experienced: my own fear when I went into Campbell Village by myself because of what I know of the violence, drugs, and crime that are always there; the usual mounds of garbage everywhere, especially in front of my friend Sally's apartment; Sally's son in jail for using and selling drugs--I remem-ber him as a cute, loving eight-year-old; the fifteen or twenty men on the corner of 14th and Peralta as they always are--drink- 494 Review for Reh~ious ing and buying drugs; Trisha's house boarded up because she was evicted for drug activity, when she had been one of Jubilee West's most promising tenants. 2. Feelyourjoy also and others' joy as well: celebrate small suc-cesses, continue the lifelong task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." My walk through West Oakland gave me many opportunities for experiencing joy. It felt good to remember all the times I have been in people's houses having coffee and conversation. My friend Joanne greeted me with a big hug, and we laughed over old times together. Two of her children are doing very well, she is enjoying her job taking care of hand-icapped people, she still feels empow-ered by the victories we achieved together many years ago, and her sense of humor is still spectacular. Annie also greeted me with open arms; she is an elderly woman who owns her own home and several oth-ers in the neighborhood, though all of them are in various stages of disrepair. As I sat in her tiny kitchen, she asked me who she could get to help her change her will, and I remembered how hard it was, many years ago, to convince her to make a will at all. My last stop was Charles Garcia, who because of our orga-nizing efforts scraped up $1,700 twenty years ago to buy the falling-apart house he was living in--a small amount, even in 1974, but monumental to him. Although he was not home, his pride of ownership was evident everywhere: lots of beautiful roses in the front yard, a stained-glass window over the door; his daugh-ter spoke of wanting to. move her own growing family back to that neighborhood. I was pleased to see that there was only one burned-out house on Chester Street, when there had been many a few years ago, and I felt pride as always at Jubilee West's twenty-two new-con-struction apartments on Goss Street, definitely the ~best-looking housing anywhere in the neighborhood. My experience of joy on my walk through the West of Cypress neighborhood brought home to me the truth of Joanna Macy's Celebrate small successes, continue the life-long task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." jUuly-August 199Y 495 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years words: "When we open our awareness to the web of life, we con-nect not only with the sufferings of others, but to the same mea-sure, with their gifts and powers . . . if we can grieve with the griefs of others, so, by the same token, by the same openness, can we find strength in their strengths, bolstering our own individual supplies of courage, commitment, and endurance."3 3. Acknowledge real powerlessness and systemic oppression. Deepen awareness of this as a reality check, as the main reason for not continuing self-blame, as a step to determining at which point to try to intervene. Catch yourself when you are blaming the vic-tim, whether that victim is yourself or someone else. 4. Acknowledge surplus powerlessness in yourself and in others, and try to find ways to deal with it, mainly by group sharing and by compassion for yourself and others. 5. Give up the myth that there is one key to changing the world. I have had the fantasy hope that there is one key to changing oppres-sive systems and that, if I could just find it, I would know what to do. Now I am more aware that transformation is happening on many levels at once and that it is not necessarily more important to work on one rather than another; I have lots of options for where I can best use my gifts to work for change. 6. Give up the myth that I am totally responsible (even when and if it is my job to be in charge), that I necessarily have the power to create the changes I want. Sometimes I have that power, often I do not. Any transformation will take many people working in many ways. A friend told me recently that she has become passionately committed to nudging the world toward justice and ecological san-ity. The idea of nudging shows a good grasp of reality and the pos-sible, and many people are doing this all over the world. 7. Give as much time as possible to the beauty, silence, and soli-tude that I so long for and know is essential to the life of my soul. My greatest desire is to act from a deeply contemplative stance. I do not always live that way, but I become more and more con-vinced that it is the only way to be who I am, to be at peace with myself and the world. Many questions remain as I come to the end of these reflec-tions, but hopefully every deepened insight leads to new possi-bilities and changes in my way of being, feeling, and acting. My questions will take more than my lifetime to answer. I am reminded of a vivid memory from a few years ago. I was in the midst of a crisis at Jubilee West, and I went to walk around the 496 Review for Religious lake to try to think of what to do. As I walked, I would come up with an idea about a next step, bu~ a voice in me kept asking, "What if you can't solve the problem?" I would be with that ques-tion for a few minutes and then start again to plan strategies. But the voice was persistent: "What if you can't solve the problem?" I have been brought up to believe that, ifI have a problem or see a problem, I should try to solve it. In fact, I very frequently have been able to find solutions to problems, to achieve what-ever I put my mind to achieve. Similarly, in World as Love~; World as Self, Joanna Macy quotes Lyndon B. Johnson as saying during the Vietnam War: "Don't come to me with a problem unless you have a solution." She tells of some colleagues in France who, ridi-culing our American culture for demanding instant solutions to problems, said we should "let the difficulties reveal themselves first before rushing for a ready-made solution, or else you will not understand them.''4 And so, as I walked around the lake struggling with the com-plexities of my crisis, the persistent voice asking "What if you can't solve the problem?" was actually a blessing. It pushed me to experience that often I cannot solve the problem. What is needed then is not more strategies, but waiting in openness: openness to the unfathomable presence, power, energy, connectedness in the universe, in me, in other people, and in all situations--which I call God. What is needed is sitting with open hands and open heart in deep silence and solitude, or dancing with abandonment to powerful music, or walking on the beach feeling the immensity of the ocean, or remembering my redwood tree. What is needed is anything that brings home to me the sacredness of all beings. I am remembering also the poem by Wendell Berry that I first saw on the kitchen wall at Genesis Farm, the environmental study center where I spent six weeks in the spring of 1992. It moved me deeply then and still does, giving me a powerful image of commitment to the possible in the darkest of times: "In the dark of the moon, / In flying snow,/. / The world in danger. / I walk the rocky hillsides / Sowing clover." I wonder what forms my clover will take? In looking through my 1991-92 .journal, I rediscovered another powerful image, a dream I had on 1 February 1992 and had forgotten. The image of wholeness in my dream links with Joanna Macy's wisdom about the interconnected whole in Despair and Personal Power: "What is it that allows us to feel pain for our Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years world? And what do we discover as we move through it? What awaits us there on the other side of despair? To all these ques-tions there is one answer. It is interconnectedness with life and all other beings. It is the living web out of which our individual, sep-arate existences have risen, and in which we are interwoven."s Deep implications of this dream are gradually surfacing as I continue to reflect on it more than three years later: I am in a house with many people., much chaos., there is a cupboard with a lot of jigsaw puzzles., suddenly they all fall out and come crashing down . . . so there are hun-dreds of puzzle pieces all over the floor., all from differ-ent puzzles . . . instead of feeling hopeless, like I would never be able to sort out the pieces and put each puzzle together again . . . in the dream I feel hopeful . . . like what was individual puzzles is now one big whole . . . and the challenge is to make a new picture in a new way. Soon after I wrote the pages above, my friend Sister Pat, cofounder of Jubilee West, died unexpectedly while we were vaca-tioning in Vermont. We had worked, argued, dreamed, planned, and enjoyed life together in West Oakland for nineteen years of a longer close friendship. Pat was "home" to me; now I feel like a homeless person. In my grief I have felt that God is burning himself into my soul, in intense pain and intense beauty. Was it in another lifetime that I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much per-sonal pain"? I am amazed that "Feel your pain" was one of my "exploratory answers." It has helped me take time for the sadness of my loss. I am hopeful that my pain will give me strength and wisdom to respond to the world's pain in new ways. My under-standing of my own "answers" is deeper than when I wrote them. Hopefully, I am more ready to keep working to create a new pic-ture, a new wholeness. Notes ~ Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness (Oakland: Institute for Labor and Mental Health, 1986). These and other quotations from Lerner are a combination of a variety of pages in this book. 2 Joanna Macy, Despair and Personal Power in the Nuclear Age (Baltimore: New Society Publishers, 1983). These quotations are a com-bination of a variety of pages in chapters 1 and 2. 3 Macy, Despair, p. 32. 4 Joanna Macy, World as Love~; World as Self(Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), p. 18. s Macy, Despair, p. 24. 498 Review for Religious MARGARET MARY KNITTEL Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor I alternate between thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. --Annie Dillard, "Sojourner" Mey mother had lived in this home, built by her father, ver since she was eighteen, and now sixty years later she was selling the stained-glass windows, the hardwood floors, everything. All went well but for that last moment holding all the pain. We walked away bearing the image of strangers in that beloved doorway, frame of four generations. Doorways of insti-tutions, too, owned and operated by generations of women reli-gious, hold countless emotionally freighted moments, and near the close of the 20th century the terms "corporate sponsorship" and "fruits of our labor" have become and remain inextricably bound. In one ethical frame come three questions that are relevant to these two realities, corporate sponsorship and fruits of our labor. The three questions suggest a fluidity of vision, a loo'sening of ties. The questions are: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who are we called to be? Who Are We? Over successive generations the corporately sponsored institutional ministry increasingly became for Catholic women religious in the United States their "hearth and garden," Margaret Mary Knittel RSM served as director of personnel services at Saint Xavier University in Chicago from 1981 to 1987. Presently, as a consultant for nonprofit organizations, she writes to us from I 1 Simpson, H; Geneva, Illinois 60134. ~uly-Aug~st 1995 499 Knittel ¯ Corporate Sponsorship the consummate fruits of their labor, our labor. Hospitals, nurs-ing homes, orphanages, .high schools, and colleges together form a litany of dedicated achievement, of the brick-by-brick accom-plishments of many dedicated women. Annie Dillard's feelings about this planet as hearth and garden and land of exile help identify three groups or generations of women religious who for a hundred years have owned and operated those institutions.1 These generations we shall call the exiles, the arrived, and the The first generation, the exiles, traveled from countries like Ireland, Germany, and Italy to North American mission lands. The second generation, the arrived (or arriv&s), lived in an at-homeness within their institutions in the burgeoning years. Now, in these closing years of the 20th century, we have a third gen-eration, the sojourners, seeking a new way to live their profes-sional commitments and their personal lives as vowed women religious upon finding themselves living in smaller and smaller groupings on a planet presenting challenges and opportunities their pioneering sisters in exile--their grandsisters--would not recognize. For the exiles--pioneers, all of them--the missions of the late 19th and early 20th century meant lives of physical sacrifice and economic deprivation well beyond the virtue or vow of poverty. Those women pieced together budgets, scraping their ingenuity for survival. Having come intent upon working hard, they strove to build hearths and gardens and kept striving and struggling, remaining and reminding themselves to be exiles at heart, women in a foreign land. Echoing the economy at large, the institutional ministries they had founded and maintained boomed after the lean years of the Great Depression. The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up edu-cational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. With increased settling in, this hearth of the religious women's profes-sional lives, this sponsored work, began for some to take on near-salvific powers. This hospital, this academy, began to hold terrestrial hopes and dreams, promised a salvation, and hinted of a this-side immortality. Plaudits, awards, and status were afforded to this generation of women who had arrived, who in some cases had left a humble family circle for what was increasingly becom- 500 Review for Religious ing an educated, secure middle-class community. They, we, by one definition indeed had arrived. For the arrived, their hospital or academy chapel began to localize the garden of the spirit. Here each morning and evening, all, regardless of professional status, gathered together at prayer. Here the contemplative "side" sought nourishment as the apostolic "side" waited just outside the chapel door. Hearth of work and garden of spirit, these became fix-tures within the corporate institu-tions cared for by the members of this second generation. Who Are We Becoming? In the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" the central figure, an exceedingly obese mother of four, says to her teenage son in a moment of reconciliation, "I never wanted to be like this." She had eaten her way to virtual immobility after her husband walked away from her and their children. Do we women religious, as this 20th cen-tury of ours draws to a close, gaze at our corporate body and say to ot~rselves, "We never wanted to be like this"? The founders of mis-sions here in the United States began on an inspiration to do good The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up educational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. in the sight of the God, and now, one or two hundred years later, their legatee corporate body has perhaps come to he something overly substantial: substantial hearth and garden, substantial fruits of our labor. These places, these institutions, became the symbolic body of our corporate identity within the church and the symbolic immortality within our destinies. Boards, philanthropic individ-uals, committees, friendships have been cultivated in the name of a hospital, an orphanage, or a school, and individual women's identities have been formed by and dedicated to bricks and steam pipes and windows. And then, as a distant window opened in the early 1960s and Vatican Council II convened, the corporate body ~ly-August 1995 501 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship began to be looked at and came into question: "Is this who we are becoming?" For some women and men, in and out of religious life, the signs of the times appealed to in the council documents began to replace the signs of success. The prophet Jeremiah's call to voca- Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. tion describes a people God observes burning incense to strange gods and "adoring their own hand-iwork" (Jr 1:16). The prophetic began to ease itself forward. The work of our hands, the fruits of our labor, came into question. Now, in these late days of the 20th century, the hearth lies gray with embers and the garden shows signs of late-summer exhaustion. Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. Worse, we know in our aging the lists of needs more acute, more violent, than our grandsisters might have dared imagine. With abuses crowding our culture into corners that seem to offer no choice, we acknowl-edge there has to be more to this journey. Who Are We Called to Be? Our third generation, the would-be sojourners, wonder at this late-20th-century hour: "Is this our time of exile? Shall we be graced to select to become sojourners. Selecting to be sojourners, to move from being securely settled to securely unsettled, recalls the, sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures showing us a people finding centers other than God. The king-dom, the temple, the land--here was the answer. No, not here, there. No, not there, here. Efforts to restore the earthly kingdom kept centering on realities other than God. But Yahweh contin-ued to insist. 502 Review for Religious Selecting to be sojourners calls us to know how to go into exile, how to travel. Traveling, what shall we pack? Timing, how to schedule transportation, stopovers? And we cannot forget those allowances of minutes and hours, those sponges of time, to absorb this unfamiliar territory, this plan, these new connections. We will not know the language, but will need to interact and relate with others in order to continue on the journey and will have to search our imaginations for ways to communicate constructively. Life will move more slowly even as we continually need to cope with myriad details. Knowing exile, we will know ourselves anew. A clock continues to tick, and while many individual women religious hear it, the instinct to muffle its sound remains. "Enough!" we hear. Our alternative thoughts drift to sojourning, but graying embers say "Enough." We lived through the changes of the 1960s and '70s immediately after the council. No more traveling, turning, leaving, remembering, forgetting, previsioning, refashioning, or paradigm shifting for us! Just leave me alone. Enough. Give me the basics for survival and let me live out my life, here. Give me my job, my position, my power. Give me space. But a clock continues to tick. Learning to Mourn Henri Nouwen has said, "Yes, we must mourn our losses. We cannot talk or act them away, but we can shed tears over them and allow ourselves to grieve deeply. To grieve is to allow our losses to tear apart feelings of security and safety and lead us to the painful truth of our brokenness. Our grief makes us experience the abyss of our own life in which nothing is settled, clear, or obvious, but everything constantly shifting and changing.''2 At issue here is whether or not women religious have the energy to mourn. There have been deaths--countless funerals, remembered rejec-tions, and downright hostilities and hatreds. Yes, death seems to have been an integral part of this life once so much idealized--the youth and the joy! But, through all of these deaths, have we short-circuited a certain human pathos, admixing theologies and spiri-tualities, being at times more stoic than Christian? Several weeks after the death of my mother, an acquaintance asked, "How are you doing?" An incident, fresh that day, helped me to describe a way of being that I would later learn is common to us and may be where the corporate person of religious life .~ly-Auguyt 1995 503 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship finds itself today. I told him of my standing in the middle of a room that morning, about to clean, but not knowing what to do next. My emotional energy was somehow separated from me as a person. As women religious, do we stand in the middle of a room and not know how to clean it, with our individual and corpgrate emo-tional energy elsewhere? Solneone has said, "Leaders are people who do the right thing; managers are people who do things right.''3 Is there a sense that somehow our corporate energy has separated itself from the corporate body so that with our corpo-rate leadership we continue doing things right rather than doing the right thing? Walter Brueggemann has observed that "reli-gious practitioners are often easy and unwitting conspirators with such denial. We become the good-humor men and women, for who among us does not want to rush in and smooth things out, to reassure, to cover grief?.''4 Rush in, smooth out, reassure--sounds familiar. What and where are the deep-down places in which we will individually and corporately rejoin our emotional energies, find ourselves? While sometimes we feel sublimely practiced in the various forms of grief, having experienced death in many forms, have we mourned? Have we cared enough about ourselves individually and corporately to let in the slow, mysterious loneliness, the ever changing healing of life after a death, a shocking, numbing death, has occurred? This work of mourning looks not only to the past but also to the future, fully realizing that new steps must be taken. The ability to bear wholesome and healing grief is every bit as much a fruit of our labor as the most imposing achievement of our corporate endeavors. Who are we called to be in this late 20th century, and is God directly and immediately in charge? Given our status and our connections, have we--women religious who have arrived--cor-porately capitulated to others' being in charge, someone else's agenda. "The task of the prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord.''s We come through the numbing to learn from a God in charge that the fruit of our labor may be "only" to know Jesus the Christ once again as way, as truth, as life. In this late 20th century, the fruits of our having arrived carry the exotically sweet flavor of success taken for granted and of 504 Review for Religious controlling power. In some instances we think it necessary to cling to these fruits with an even tighter grip. What sadder use of our time than participating in meetings with unseen forces with a view to reconstituting yesteryear rather than working with hope for tomorrow! Is there true conversation within our communi-ties, or merely some talk while waiting for followers to follow? Whether we would speak with Brueggemann's "prophetic imagination" or Philip Keane's "moral imagination," can we imag-ine imagining? Keane has said, "Communities as well as persons need t6 develop moral character and exercise moral imagination as they seek to address the great issues of our times.''6 When a loved one dies, a significant part of our grieving may involve imagining the future without them. We have known and loved them, but deep down we grieve for ourselves in an unknown future--a birthday or a Christmas--without their presence. We deeply miss this lost past. The exile has begun, with or without us. We need to acknowl-edge it, learning more and imagining more about what it means to mourn. We will be sojourners, like our grandsisters before us, leaving the comforts of home, however we currently define and hold on to them. "A number of factors can hinder persons from being genuinely reflective and playful in their moral thinking," says Keane; "power or force is one such factor.''7 Shall we become more reflective, more playful, and imagine leaving our present "homes" of wrongfully constructed political power, of oppressive behaviors? What prevents us from asking: Who are we? Who are we becoming? and Who are we called to be? The answer from some, if not all, may lie in these processes of the prophetic, these questions. Land of Exile: Corporate Sojournership "Fairly often," says Keane, "I run into persons whose image of God is that God is out to get us. Such persons want to be told what to do, and they are afraid of using their moral imaginations. Their religious or prayer lives will often be quite limited because their fear keeps them from really being open to the power of the Gospel stories.''8 As women religious we seek the courage to imag-ine and do corporately what many individual women and men have already wrestled with in their lives. We need, corporately, to turn in the keys, have a good cry, and move on. 3~uly-Al¢g'ust 199Y 505 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship Turning in the keys does not necessarily mean a wholesale closing of eacli and every institution. Some would like that, but it could indeed prove shortsighted and definitely unimaginative, even though some say the community's need for money is a good reason for selling this hospital or that academy and others say, "If we sell, we would be doing something holy." Abandoning an inner-city hospital without recourse to imaginative possibilities of how this long-cared-for space--the land's square feet and the buildings' cubic feet--could now serve the poor better might well become a new urban tragedy. We will need to go after anew, with all the civic clout that our years of being respectable arrivges can muster, the neighborhood's endemic and systemic problems. The friends of our institutions of the past may not choose to be the companions of our sojourning in the years ahead. But, together with those who would stay with us, we n~ed to find out who we are called to be. In any new land such as the future, there will be questions, then some answers, and then new questions. Our bequest, the fruits of our labor--whether embodied in our present corporate buildings and our present apostolic endeavors or not--must always be directed towards common goods that our corporate resources and corporate energies can hope to accomplish. People reflecting on the conversion to which all of us are called expect that the hearth and garden that halve come down to tis from a former time, these substantial signs of our having arrived, will increasingly suggest to us new common and corpo-rate lives of sojourning exile. These and similar questions will keep occurring to us: How will we use the power and influence we have? What could the prayer of our community be like? How will we imagine and live appropriate ways of coming together and being together--or of being together and going out together? What can we do most effectively for the coming of the kingdom? Shall we be women of vision, corporately attending to the good? Shall we corporately prepare in earnest to live in exile, to be sojourners, persons consciously and deliberately ready for the journey that begins and ends in God? Notes l Annie Dillard, "Sojourner," in Teaching a Stone to Talk (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 150. 506 Review for Religious 2 Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Hearts Burning (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 27. 3 Warren Bennis, Why Leaders Can't Lead (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 18. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic hnagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 49. s Brueggemann, p. 49. 6 Philip S. Keane, Christian Ethics and Imagination (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 104. 7 Keane, p. 107. 8 Keane, p. 107. Tourist Your T-shirt's stamped in letters large across your chest: KATMANDU. Your bike is labeled with a hundred road resorts. Your car is dotted round with all your touring triumphs . So, why not take another route today? A low-cost tour to that other inner world inside. Stay quiet by that vast unbounded inner ocean in your mind. Dive, swim and surf. Fly free. Ride high the inner waves of thought and feeling endlessly exhilarated, or delve into the dark and secret untrod cavern of your soul. Discover now the mystery of creation; confront the abyss unending of your own nothing-self becoming. And meet in that remote mysterious empty temple, far inside, your God. Cothrai Gogan CSSP .y~uly-August 199Y 507 CATHERINE M. HARMER Retirement's Wisdom Years One of the recurring discussions at assemblies and chap-ters of religious revolves around the rising median age, the need to care for our elderly, and more subtly the growing costs of such caring. The issue is an important one in that most United States congregations have median ages over sixty. An examination of congregational budgets shows that increasingly large amounts of money are dedicated to the care of the elderly. The National Conference of Catholic Bishops has been sponsor-ing a special collection for aging religious that people contribute to with great generosity, but it covers only a small part of the actual costs. A visit to the motherhouse of almost any group of sisters will show that a large part of what was housing for novices in the past is now dedicated to the aging members. Some motherhouses have very fine infirmaries for the sick elderly. There is no question that religious leaders are making great efforts to provide the best they can for their members through all stages of life. I would like, however, to examine two aspects of that effort. The first has to do with the nursing-home care that many of the sick elderly need. The second has to do with the concept of retirement for religious and the way it has been handled over the last twenty years or so. The Sick Elderly The first topic is the simpler one and will get less treatment in this article. In the care of our sick elderly, the emphasis has Catherine M. Harmer MMS wrote "Election: A Call to Service" for our September-October 1994 issue. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 508 Review for Religious been changed from the simple caring for them "at home" that was possible when the median age was much lower and the num-ber of elderly religious was either smaller or relatively smaller. When that was the case, at the motherhouse a small staff assisted by novices and postulants could care for them in much the same way that a family could take care of any sick or elderly member of it. Gradually, as the numbers increased and the sick elderly lived longer, a more professional model, that of the nursing home, became more common. As this was happen-ing, the percentage of vigorously active members was decreasing. At present, in most of the retirement facilities I have visited over the years, the staff is largely lay with very few religious among them. In some very large congrega-tions, with several hundred sick elderly members, the facilities com-pare well with any licensed nursing home, often providing much better care and definitely offering more loving care than in the average nurs-ing home for the laity. In smaller congregations the attempt to pro-vide quality nursing care results in Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercon gregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their members in general nursing homes in their area. small facilities that are as expensive to maintain as considerably larger ones would be. In some cases a nursing staff (composed mainly of nurse aides) that could care for thirty patients is taking care of ten or fifteen, sometimes fewer. As congregations face the heavy financial drain, there is a movement toward collaboration among the congregations in a geographic area. This is a positive development that could lead to good care for the religious and lower financial costs. Some groups that have larger facilities are opening them to other congrega-tions. Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercongregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their mem-bers in general nursing homes in their area. All of these steps are difficult. Often the members of a con-gregation are very unwilling to have their elderly cared for away .~dy-August 199Y 509 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years from their own motherhouse. At times the elderly themselves feel that they are being mistreated by being separated from their tra-ditional homes. Only a few consider it a good thing to be in a nursing home of mixed patients, men and women, religious and lay, in spite of the pastoral potential of such a model. The efforts of leaders and the combined efforts of congrega-tions to deal with both the physical realities and the psychologi-cal and religious values are important ones. Key for the leaders will be understanding, patience, and collaborative stances. For the members, those who are elderly and those who are not, it is important to develop an acceptance of the reality they face and a willingness to keep their last days congruent with what has gone before. I suggest that this requires ongoing education for every-one and a spirituality that looks at one's last days as continuous with the dedication of earlier days. Religious Retirement In our efforts to prepare one another for "retirement," we may have bought into a model that was emerging after World War II and continues to develop in terms of what aging and retir-ing are all about. This brings me to the second topic, the one which will constitute the major portion of this article. It is all the more important because it bears upon the first as well. It has to do with how we are viewing retirement. I believe that we have accepted a way of looking at retirement which is increasingly being challenged in the population at large and that we need to study it in the light of what our entire religious life is about. Several aspects of this model of retirement raise new questions. The current model in the United States assumes that people will retire at sixty-five if not earlier. When Social Security became a reality in the 1930s, life expectancy was lower, many people did hard physical labor and had relatively poor nutritional histories, and their hope was simply that at retirement they could stop working without worry about becoming dependent on their chil-dren or "ending up in the poorhouse." Today life expectancy is much higher, and the reality is that many people stay active, healthy, and alert for twenty years and longer after they retire. A second aspect, then, is that retirement is a time of not work-ing and, instead, spending one's time and energy at play of one sort or another. (Married women often have less of the play since 510 Review for Religious they are still expected to do the work of keeping up the home.) A problem here is that many retired people soon become bored with the play aspect. Some move toward part-time jobs or vol-unteer work, while others become captives of the television or the endless bingo games of our less creative senior centers. A third aspect of the current model that deserves examina-tion is the tendency to move away from the place where most of life was spent. This sometimes has to do with seeking a warmer climate or more economical housing. The result is that, as peo-ple age, they are out of regular con-tact with their family and must develop new friends. Even the elderly who manage well on their own in their original home are often under pressure from relatives and friends to find a smaller place-- which often takes them away from the community in which they have close ties and away from some sig-nificant activities that they could otherwise keep up. People are living longer while remaining physically and mentally vigorous, and yet the model of retirement continues to treat them as if they cannot do anything but play. What is being lost is the opportunity for them to contribute to family, to friends, to com-munity, in a different way than during their working years, but a way that is significant and needed. What is being lost to society at large is the accumulated wisdom of the elderly, a loss our soci-ety cannot afford. It would be a shame for religious congregations to follow the national model for retirement too closely. While few if any con-gregations have fixed ages of retirement from major involvement in ministries, there has been a subtle movement over the last few decades to start "thinking about retirement" while the religious are in their fifties. Without necessarily meaning to do so, this has too frequently led to a mentality that places retiring somewhere in the sixties, even if there is no real reason to do so. I have vis-ited motherhouses where some of the sisters appear to have retired Although the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. J-uly-dugust 199Y 511 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years far too soon and are desperate for some way to be involved in ministry. Mthough the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. Especially in motherhouses, which tend to be out in the country or relatively isolated, this leads to a combination of small tasks around the motherhouse, activities that mimic the senior citizens' centers, and some increased emphasis on the spiritual life without much attention to how that might be different at this stage of life. Often when I talk with the retired themselves I find a deep longing for two things: to find some meaningful part-time min-istry and to explore what spiritual life means at this latter stage of life. When retirement takes place at a motherhouse, you find the same isolation from community that the lay elderly experience who move to Florida. While most religious have lived and worked in a number of places, there was always the parish, the school or hospital, sometimes the neighborhood, as a framework for involve-ment and support. This is now gone, and the beautiful grounds of the motherhouse, the special facilities, and sometimes the large numbers (for those, notably, who were used to smaller groups) are no substitute for what has been lost. Religious do not, on the whole, do a lot of complaining, but the sense of loss is often heard in the undertones of a conversation. We hear ". everything is so nice here., everyone is so kind . . . but."--and the long-ing is very real. I am increasingly convinced that elderly religious should, whenever possible, have the same choices as the younger members. This stage of life is important, and it needs to be rec-ognized as such. In the remainder of this article, I want to address two impor-tant things about aging and retirement for religious: (1) the sec-ond half of life as a time of deepening wisdom and individuation, a time for a greater spirituality to emerge, and (2) the role of elderly religious in continuing the mission of Jesus. For many ideas here, it will be evident that I am indebted to Carl Jung, but also to a fascinating book by Jane R. Pr~tat on the croning years (1994). As I read her book, I found myself dwelling on several ideas: that our society wastes the wisdom of the elderly at a time when we need it most; that aging is not just something that hap-pens, but a part of the whole picture of life; and that much of 512 Review for Religious what is wrong in contemporary ways of looking at and dealing with aging in general are found also in regard to aging among religious, especially in how we treat the reality we call "retire-ment." The Second Half of Life Some years ago a large number of articles, workshops, and counseling programs focused on a particular transition seen as noteworthy, the "mid-life crisis." This concept seems, from a Jungian point of view, relevant to the developmental model's tran-sition from the first to the second half of life. This division into two halves does not have a chronological point, just ~s mid-life cannot be tied to a specific number of years of life. The first half of life is devoted to infancy, childhood, and young adulthood inso-far as these parts of life have to do with coming to know the world around ourselves, coming to an understanding of who we are as separate from our parents, learning, developing a working career, and moving to success within that career. At the midpoint, we might wake up in the morning and ask: Is this all there is to life? How we answer that question may indicate if the second half of life is about to begin. If the answer is "Yes, this is it!" we could spend the rest of our life simply as a continuation of the first half until death. If the answer is "No, there is something more!" we could enter into the second half of life. In the second half of life, the tasks shift to integration of the parts that have been separated during the first half, the move-ment toward individuation, coming to know ourselves in a dif-ferent way, and the decision to move toward wisdom. The "wise old man" and "wise old woman" archetypes begin to emerge dur-ing the early part of this second half of life. I believe that many people make the shift to the second half of life without ever hear-ing about Jung or his developmental theories. They recognize that something is changing in themselves, and they move with those changes. Some of the "play" elements of retirement--the programs for senior citizens that involve bingo, excursions, and hobbies--could be considered a return to an early part of the first half of lifel Now that we have done our work, earned our pension, we can again become the children whose task is play. For people with a limited field of interests, this may mean watching television for ffuly-August 1995 513 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years As we age; there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. long hours of the day and night. This is to remain in the first half of life, possibly until death, without ever taking the step into the second half. For other people, the leisure activities are part of their under-standing of where they are in terms of age, but other aspects also begin to emerge. Spending time with their children and grand-children can be a way of being the elder who is communicating the lore and the wisdom of life. This is a second-half activity and one much needed in today's culture, in which single-parent families and families with both parents working are becoming the norm. Contact with the older generation, with grandparents, . uncles, and aunts, which for long years was the norm, now is the excep-tion in many families. Wisdom also has to do with com-ing to a deeper knowledge of God, a greater and deeper integration of the spiritual life. For many people, life has been so busy, so full of duties, that the spiritual life was relegated to a set of rituals honored on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis. As we age, there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. In some cases it is connected with daily Mass for people who during their working years were quite con-tent with the Sunday Mass; it may mean a return to some of the religious practices of childhood; sometimes it is :a search for deeper intimacy with God. This longing belongs to the wisdom quest of this second stage. Religious, hopefully, have not stinted on their attention to the spiritual and to God's presence all through the active first half of their life. Yet the sense that the latter half of life has some-thing special to offer is found among them as well. One cannot deny, though, that some religious at this stage seem to put i:he haain emphasis on play. Their way of playing may be different, but it is still play and may involve television, novel reading, trips to the casino with the senior citizens' group, and considerable family visiting. 514 Review for Religious As a country we have to explore how to make the wisdom of the elders available to our children and to our busy adults. In the extended family of the past, this happened very simply. At one time in my childhood, I went every Friday after school to my grandparents' home so that on Saturday morning I could help .my grandmother with some of the cleaning she found difficult to do. What I remember most is conversations after supper on Friday with my grandfather, who told me the stories of his youth when he was an organizer of the unions in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. I also remember listening to music on the radio, and all three of us reading our separate books or magazines. Elderly religious off in motherhouses and retirement centers lose their easy contact with yoilnger religious, lose casual opportunities to share their wisdom with them, just as grandparents nowadays are often in other states where spending time with their grandchildren is no longer 'possible. In some motherhouses there are now prayer centers and renewal centers that give workshops and courses for sisters and lay people who are interested. At one point I had a constant flow of their catalogues coming across my desk. Fine as many of these centers are, I rarely saw anything that addressed the need for exploring the spirituality of the latter half of life, of the retirement years. Yet in those same houses I often met older sisters who longed for scripture study, for prayer assistance, for some way of understanding and developing the spirit life for this special part of their earthly sojourn. Some Strategies for the Second Half of Life It seems to me, then, that there are two things leadership would do well to do~ (1)to make it possible for elderly religious (granted their varying degrees of diminished energy) to continue to be involved in meaningful ministries that connect with the congregation's charism and mission and (2) to make conscious efforts to help the elderly religious move through the integrative work of the second half of their life in a way that is just as appro-priate as the novitiate training was for the first half. ., I live in a parish at present where more than half of the sis-ters in the local convent are well into the second half of their life and thus are no longer able to be involved full-time in the min-istries of their congregation. The congregation is a teaching one, jg~uly-August 1995 515 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years staffing many parish and,diocesan schools. A few of the sisters teach in the parish school, others commute to diocesan high schools, and the older sisters are engaged in time,limited but very vital ministries, These include teaching and tutoring in the adult literacy center, tutoring children from the grade school, and vis-iting elderly shut-ins 'in the neighborhood. None of these are full-time involvements. In some cases the sisters go to the school, in others the students come to them in the convent. Whenever I meet with these women, I am struck by the joy and peace that are obvious in them. Not everyone can be placed in a parish convent. Some of our elderly need to be in places like motherhouses where their greater physical needs can be provided for. It is sometimes possible to bring ministries to these motherhouses and at the same time pro-vide a wonderful service to others. I have been to motherhouses where there was day care for children in some parts of the build-ing and day care for ~he elderly in other parts. Two wonderful things happened there daily. The children and the elderly spent some time together every day, and both benefited by the experi-ence. The staff of both facilities had "assistants" from among the retired sisters who, like the women in my parish, could not work full-time, but could be counted on for blocks of time on .a regu-lar basis to help with both groups of day-care clients. o To keep our religious involved as long as possible has another imp.ortant benefit. Most o£ the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. We have wonderful examples of very elderly people maintaining their mental and physical capacities long past the expected time and making contributions to art, 'literature,. and the commonweal. Even more important, this is a time when .religious can begin to share the wisdom that has come to them with age, experience, and deep reflection on the meaning of life. This is a wisdom that is very much needed in our culture, a wisdom that too often the children and young peo-ple do.not find around them. Religious can become, in~ a very real way, the grandparent figures ifi their parishes, neighborhoods, and institutions. This is the wisdom of experience joined with reflec-tion upon that experience. 0 The second thing needing attention from leadership is the effort to help religious .use their latter years creatively in order to move toward the union with God that has been such a part of our 516 Review for Religious thinking throughout life. Many of the forms of prayer and spiri-tuality that are helpful to members of active religious congrega-tions during their early and middle years are apostolically oriented. Appropriately, the religious appreciate seeing a close connection between their ministry and their spirituality. The inner life and the outer life are integrated, ideally, in a rich and vibrant way. Changes take place as religious move through the early years of the second half of life. Spending less time and energy in direct apostolic efforts, they have more time for more leisurely ways of praying. They are ready for the next stage of devel-opment of their inner life. Their focus at this stage is somewhat different from that of their early and middle years. It has within it many of the same elements, but also some new ones. In this stage the elderly may desire to recall or renew some of the things they learned in earlier years, but did not have time to savor and assim-ilate. Frequently they speak of their desire for scripture classes, for prayer workshops. These can be useful, but they need to be focused clearly and carefully on the latter years. Now the emphasis is not on quantities of information, but rather on depth, on quiet composure and integration within each individual's inner reality. The wisdom years are the time when the. "wise old woman" and "wise old man" archetypes come to the fore. While the wis-dom can be for oneself, it is even more for others. At this stage there is not likely to be any necessity to go out and preach or teach, but there should be a simple and peaceful realization that the wisdom being garnered is also for others. This is why it is important during these years: for religious to have two areas of concern: one for the continuing development of the wisdom that has been growing in them over the years, and the other for shar-ing that wisdom, very simply and directly, with others. As religious move along through this final stage of life, it is essential that they have the assistance they need to foster the growth of their inner life, to be more open to wisdom, and that they have opportunity to share it with others. Thus, the ending of Most of the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. ~uly-August 199Y 517 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years life can be as full and as rich spiritually as any of the earlier stages, and it can be lived out in a truly mission-centered way. This will enrich the lives of the elderly religious themselves, but also of those who are yearning for that wisdom and do not yet know where to find it. It will bring a fullness to the lives of the "retired" and of those around them. It will be a far happier period than one given to play, television, and various excursions. Religious have frequently been the pacesetters in ministry. Perhaps it is time for the "retired" religious to begin to model to other retirees a richer, fuller, and more outwardly directed wisdom retirement. References Johnston, Charles M. Necessary Wisdom: Meeting the Challenge of a New Cultural Maturity. Seattle: ICD Press, 1991. Pr~tat, Jane R. Coming to Age: The Croning Years and Late-Life Transformations. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1994. Exposition Bless you, caress you~ enfold and possess you. Blessed by you, caressed by you, enfolded within you. Possessed. Chris Mannion FMS 518 Review for Religious TAD DUNNE The Enneagram Since the. early 1970s, religious educators, spiritual men-tors, retreat directors, and, most recently, management trainers have been talking about the "enneagram." 1 The theory proposes that each person is hooked by one of nine psychological compulsions--similar to the seven "capital" sins in classical Christian literature? Dozens of authors. and lecturers nowadays are teaching the theory to help people discover which of the nine compulsions is theirs and bow to accomplish their psychological liberation from it. The nine types are often referred to in caricatures: the Perfectionist, the Helper, ~he Status Seeker, the Sensitive Artist, the Observer, the Accuser, the Planner, the Bully, and the Slug.3 To edch of these descriptions, enneagram teachers attach longer descriptions of phobias, ambitions, expectations, learning style, sexual dynamics, management style, virtues, prides, blind spots, fixations, senses of time, and so on. The r~lations among the com-pulsions are represented by a circle whose circumference is numbered, at nine equidistant points. Within the circle is a triangle drawn from points three to six to nine. Also within the circle is a folded hexagon drawn through the Tad Dunne is an adjunct professor of medical ethics at Marygrove College, Detroit, and a management consultant for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Michigan. He has published Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco) and Lonergan and Spirituality (Loyola University Press). He may be addressed at 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. guidance July-August 199Y 519 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram cycle 1-4-2-8-5-7-1. This strange figure has become the logo of the enneagram system. Enneagram and Myers-Briggs People often compare the enneagram to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which classifies sixteen personality types accord-ing to one's preference for ways of noticing experience and mak-ing decisions. The chief difference between them is that the Myers-Briggs instrument indicates personal preferences, all of which are psychologically normal, while the enneagram indicates pathologies. That is, in the Myers-Briggs'all the types are healthy, while in the enneagram all the types are sick. So the Myers-Briggs is useful for accommodating one's own thinking style with col-laborators'; it helps groups identify the preferences for ways of learning and evaluating that exist,among their members and to deploy their relative .strengths accordingly. The enneagram, in contrast, is useful for identifying neuroses, mostly in oneself. The Myers-Briggs indicator, rooted in Jungian psychology, carries a positive attitude toward human consciousness, whereas the ennea-gram, rooted partly in Freudian psychology, takes a more suspi-cious stand. Few psyqhologists, however, rely on either tool for diagnostic purposes, because of an absence of empirical studies that correlate with validated' tests. Among other helping professionals, the Myers-Briggs indi-cator enjoys a wider and less controversial reputation than the enneagram. The sixteen preferences are easily understood; one can readily find Jung's comments on people's preferences between extraversion and introversion, between sensate observation and intuition, and between thinking and feeling.4 The enneagram, in contrast, has sources shrouded in arcane knowledge from a cor-ner of the Sufi tradition unknown to most Sufis and from George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a self-styled visionary from Russia with dubi-ous credentials. The many enneagram books and tapes that have been published in the last decade tend to describe each of the nine compialsions in dogmatic terms--a style of presentation that allures some but alienates others,s 520 Some Positive Aspects of the Enneagram One of the most disturbing claims made by enneagram devo- Review for Religious tees is that these nine types cover the total human range of com-pulsions. Not ten, not eight.6 There are subsets among the nine, but these supposedly cover all possibilities. Devotees base this claim on an unfamiliar model of personality and on the ennea-gram logo, whose origins are untraceable.7 But what is really dis-turbing is that, despite the dogmatic claims of the theory and an absence of experiment-based research, it is difficult to find any-one who fails to fit one of the types. Enneagram fans in the help-ing professions, after years of working with the tool, feel that these nine are just about right. And individuals claim that the enneagram has helped them to reach a deeper understanding of their personal compulsions than any other self-help system has, In other words, this weird, unempirical, upsetting, gnostic, and mys-tifying map of the psyche seems to work. In 1990 Claudio Naranjo MD published Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker. Enneagram students were eager to read what he had to say, since he led the development o_f the the-ory among English-speaking publics. His book, the smallest I know of on the subject, builds the theory on much more solid ground. That book is now out of print, but has been incorpo-rated in Naranjo's new and expanded volume, Character and Neurosis, published in 1994. Naranjo lends legitimacy to the theory in several ways. Unlike most other enneag.ram authors, who tend to pile adjective upon adjective and style upon style to cover the many variations possi-ble within each compulsion, Naranjo,keeps the set of descriptors limited. He wants these descriptors to function the way they func-tion in clinical manuals such as the DSM tli, namely, as a list of discreet phenomena sufficient to distinguish one type from another? By describing diseases with as little overlap as possible, he enables therapists to spot the core problem more quickly and waste less time on manifestations of the problem shared with other compulsions. Naranjo also takes pains to make a distinction between pas-sions (anger, envy, gluttony, and so forth) and the cognitive errors that underlie each passion. These errors amount to uncrit-ical assumptions about what life is like--the kind of oversimpli-fied worldview (and subsequent inappropriate adaptive routines) that Ellis deals with in his rational-emotive therapy.9 By pin-pointing cognitive errors, Naranjo believes, a person can iden-tify and dissolve his or her pet myths in order to rob the j~uly-August 199~ 521 Dunne * The Enneagram corresponding passion of its rationale and thereby weaken its grip on the psyche. Another contribution Naranjo makes to the theory is that he consistently explains the psychological dynamics at work in each compulsion, rather than just stating them. By appealing to his readers' understanding rather than their memory, he invites them to consult the workings of their own psyches to verify the pres-ence of certain subconscious routines. This is no small achievement. The mind is easily content with a notional familiarity with terms. Only under the whip of intel-lectual desire will we push forward to uncover for ourselves some of our psychic gremlins that have never seen the light of con-sciousness. Likewise the heart is easily comforted with comfort-able feelings; it takes an inner discipline, responsible to no one but oneself, to face up to the discomforts of acting responsibly. In my limited experience of teaching the theory, I found that many students find it too difficult to allow the teaching to break through their automatic defenses and deal with their hidden fears and cravings. The enneagram doctrine just feeds a ravenous compul-sion. So the Status Seeker uses the enneagram to advance her own reputation. The Observer uses it to gather yet further infor-mation before he ventiares out into the world. And so on. Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learn-ing. The work, however, is for people on a personal mission-- those who possess enough self-knowledge to know they are learners in the school of self-knowledge. Much of Naranjo's prose envisions a therapeutic setting in which a seeker looks to a men-tor for guidance. The aim of the therapy is not to settle what our basic compulsion is, as if from that point on we know what box we are in. The therapeutic outcome is not to identify a conceptual scheme that sometimes describes our behavior. The desired out-come is to understand specific experiences of being not our best selves, using conceptual schemes as initial indicators of what may be causing the trouble. This is why it is important to hold the enneagram types at arm's length. Although some people seem to fit a single type per-fectly, others seem to fit several types. Are these latter persons-- whose self-deceit eludes everyone's analysis--all the while being victims of only a single compulsion? Or have they really developed several distinct alternatives to authentic living? Practically speak- 522 Review for Religious ing, it makes no difference so long as users rely on the ennea-gram as nothing more than clusters of fixations and behaviors that logically hang together. Their conceptual consistency is merely a model to help people raise relevant questions about the inner events that possess a slippery logic of their own. Besides his economy of description and his reliance on per-sonal understanding, a further significant contribution Naranjo makes to the theory lies in how he has analyzed the connection between psychological difficulties and exis-tential decisions about being human. Going beyond Oscar Ichazo, from whom he first learned the theory, as well as beyond the people who had already published his enneagram material, Naranjo bases each psychological dynamic in a fundamental spiritual crisis he calls "ontic obscuration," which is a kind of a deafness to our inner drives to be authentic persons. He proposes that, just as certain cognitive errors under' lie each passion, so certain existential fail-ures underlie each cognitive error. This is significant because it puts the focus directly on the inner work of being fully human. Other authors settle for cate-gorizing people by behavior patterns or look to childhood trau-mas to explain present weirdness--the kinds of analyses commonly found in popular psychology. Indeed, popular psychology usually lacks the words and ideas with which to reflect on that innermost work of authenticity. But, by paying direct attention to "ontic obscuration," individuals can discover that a major driver behind their compulsive responses lies in how seriously they take those quiet impulses to be fully human or else how consistently they have avoided the inner work involved in staying human. This "ontic obscuration" underlies each compulsion in its own manner. The Slug stands at the center, having thoroughly obscured inner voices about how to be one's truest self. The Bully and the Perfectionist hear the voices dimly, but respond through a focus on externals, especially through various forms of anger they feel because things are not what they should be. The Helper, the Status Seeker, and the Sensitive Artist hear the voices, but they divert their desire to become fully human persons into Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learning. ~uly-Augtwt 199Y 523 Dunne ¯ The Enneag'ram becoming just persons whose image carries clout in the lives of o.thers. The Planner, the Accuser, and the Observer also hear the voiceS, but they divert a fear of not becoming fully human into strategies designed to protect the little bits of personhood they believe they possess.l° ¯ Naranjo refers to this approach as his "Nasruddin" theory. The story goes that this mullah was crawling around in an alley near a marketplace, searching for the key to his house. A friend joined in the search and, after finding nothing, asked the mul-lah, "Are you sure you lost the key around here?" The mullah responded, "No, I lost it at home." The friend naturally asked, "Then why are you looking for the key here?" The mullah replied, "The light is much better here." 1, The point is that we often look for the key to our house out under the sun, where everything seems clear. But the key is in the house, an~l the house is dark. The Existential Questign: How Should I Be? For all the benefits ofNaranjo's "ontic obscuration," he does not explain in precise terms what being human involves; he set-tles for a description of some effects of"obscuration." For exam-ple, "loss of a sense of I-am-ness" and "something missing inside.''12 At times he presumes that deep down people really know the experience of "ontic obscuration." At other times he claims that the obscuration itself prevents people from realizing that any kind of obscuration has occurred. So, while it is appro-priate for him to recommend that the seeker find a mentor to help recognize a compulsion, the theory would benefit also from a positive understanding of just what it is that "ontic obscura-tion" obscures. To uncover this prize, we need to reflect on how being human happens to be obscured ifi the first place. Most psychologists agree that the intellect of children develops not only in the amount of information they learn but, more significantly, in whether or not they learn certain higher-level intellectual skills for understanding their experiences. So Naranjo's "ontic obscura-tion'? indicates, not a breakdown in mental development, but rather an unfinished development. It is not a matter of having obscured what once was clear; it is a matter of having been born blind and gradually learning how to see. 524 Review for Religious The developmental problem is how to move from a world of images, behaviors, symbols, and external sensations to the larger world of meaning and values. As children we were able to pose questions about being human only by using images. Should I be pushy? Compliant? Generous? Teacherly? Observant? Like a lion? A turtle? A bird? A monkey? Early successful functioning of one of these styles sets up a habit and provides evidence that the world around us must be of such and such a nature--the one that matches our chosen strategy. To the Bully, then, the world is dog-eat- dog; to the Accuser, the world is ridden with crooks. We build up a behavioral style and support it with a cognitive belief in a par-ticular strategy like one of those described in .the enneagram: being correct, being related, being impressive, being the victim, being retentive, being wary, being pleasing, being pugnacious, or being deaf. We become capable of noticing our compulsions as such only later, when we learn that proper use of our minds and hearts is more important than proper behavior and that intelligent analy-sis and reasonable judgment put us in touch with the real world far better than myths and symbols can. Only p~ople who have learned to think about inner acts of meaning can make a statement such as "There I go again" as they catch on to unreal thinking and feeling. ~ .~ This learning represents a major jump in thinking skills. A person discovers that the world is not just "already out there.''Is The real world is also the invisible world made up of the acts of meaning that occur in people's minds and hearts: the agreements, the plans, the guiding ideas, the reigning values, the loyalties, the spites, the memories, the laws, and the internalized language of the place. Former precepts such as Be corre'ct~ Be connected, Be suc-cessful, and Be the martyr were established in the mind of a~child who had no alternative but to think with pictures and symbols. Bht, in the world of meaning and values, learning how to be human ought to transcend these image-based precepts and adopt precepts based on the functions of the mind and heart. Bernard Lonergan, the late Canadian philosopher whose Insight and Method in Theology have influenced many practitioners in the human and natural sciences, has identified five such func-tion- based precepts. They are: Be attentive, Be intelligent, Be reasonable, Be responsible, Be in love.'4 These voices are in all of us. They are active long before we notice them as distinct July-August 199Y 525 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram impuls.es. Although they still escape the notice of many psychol-ogists as being the most fundamental impulses that make us fully human, they are the living source of our ability to notice, under-stand, realize, take responsibility, and love, For Lonergan, these five precepts support a highly-structured method for the human sciences. But, for people seeking to under-stand their inner compulsions, they can also provide a normal way of referring to the task of being fully human. They can rep-resent the very operations that "ontic obscuration" obscures. These are the events that promise to bring a person to what Naranjo, in a more descriptive and less precise mode, calls "the integrated wholeness of one's experience"; "true aliveness, a sense of existing, a plenitude"; "finding value in the present and the actual.''ts These function-based ~precepts not only transcend image-based precepts; they also enable people to transcend who they are and to rise toward being who they are to be. Lonergan refers to these precepts as "the transcendental precepts." A Therapy of Love The question of how we should be does not end there. While people might rely on a diagnostic tool such as the enneagram to recognize self-defeating thoughts before they become actions, they also need a therapy to help recognize self-transcending thoughts and feelings. This means learning firsthand the differ-ence between the transcendental precepts and their opposites: between being attentive and being oblivious, being intelligent and being stupid, being reasonable and being silly, being respon-sible and being irresponsible, and being loving and being hateful. While anyone can recognize abstractly the contrast between these words, the right-hand members of the pairs conspire quite suc-cessfully to obscure their own functioning right behind our eyes. Fortunately, this conspiracy can be caught in the act. By know-ingly paying attention to the transcendental precepts, we can be more attentive to inner experience. We can be more intelligent about how certain cognitive errors and existential decisions sup-port our compulsions. We can be more reasonable as we admit the truth of how thoroughly our fixation may have dominated our psyches. We can be more responsible in accepting guilt that belongs to us, in shunning guilt that is unreasonable, and in sup-pressing what compulsions we can as they arise. Most wisely, we 526 Review for Religious can let our love for others take the lead more often, including and especially our love for God. When a person falls in love, he or she suddenly sees the exter-nal world as more beautiful, more full of potential, more worthy of respect and care. What has occurred, though, is not a change in the external world one views; it is a self-transcending change in the viewer. Being in love heals much of ~' what was crippled in the other four levels of the person's self-transcendence. That is, being in love gives courage to respon-sibility, realism to reason, insight to intel-ligence, and acumen to attention. The person has risen above the imprisoned self and realized something of the profound marvels of life, nature, and the friendly character of the universe. Love's healing power is evident in the love between friends, within a family, and among fellow citizens and members of a group. It is also evident in the love of God. People who have undergone a religious conversion, whether in a sudden inner revolution or a gradual takeover, experience three new powers. The~y see goodness where the unconverted see only evil. They feel a power to reach out to others at a higher risk to themselves than self-protecting reason would allow. And, after the worst setbacks, they find themselves soon on their feet, mys-teriously alive and submissive to the impulse to love again26 More can be said about the healing effects of religious love, but this milch illustrates how an analysis of our self-transcending acts clar-ifibs'what "being human" means and reveals the available powers that "o'ntic obscuration" obscures. Further analysis along these lines would complement any instance of healing with a thera-peutic theory consistent with religious love. Notice especially how the addition of this account of self-transcendence avoids the typi~cal trap of self-help psychologies. It makes clear that people do not help themselves all by them-selves. When i't is the self that needs help, "self-help" is a con-tradiction in terms. Genuine help must be imported. We rely on each other and we rely on God. In order to let go of our worries that our failures will be someh6w held against us, we rely on the fact that we are loved. Being in love gives courage to responsibility, realism to reason, insight to intelligence, and acumen to attention. Ju~-August199y 527 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram The work of making all this real for oneself is long and hard. It might go something like this: Suppose I typically play the Sensitive Artist, envious of the personas of others and absorbing my injuries in quiet melancholy. I should first keep a diary to log the times I notice my compulsion at work, in order to grow in the habit of noticing, t~nderstanding~ and gradually realizing how precisely my frustrated desire to be a notable person works. (Naranjo suggests that this work on autobiography may take three or four months.) ~7 At the same time, as I grow in self-realization, I should grow in self-responsibility. When I hear the inner voice saying "Be sensitive, be like so-and-so," I should say "Shut up!" and then bend an ear to the quieter voices of authenticity whis-pering, "Just be attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible, and in love. Being that is a quite good enough way to be your best." Then, alongside the inner work of self-reflection, I should let myself connect with others. Although Naranjo believes that his book can help a person avoid high-minded and patronizing therapists, I find it hard to imagine people really benefiting from it unless they talk about this inner work with others. Being con-nected to others means obeying the transcendental precept to Be in love. That means letting my love for others be the light that revdals what is truly worth doing, rather than mere consistency or some private ethical principle. Because genuine love heals irre-sponsibility, silliness, stupidity, and inattention, the test of genuine love will be just that: Does it make me more responsible, more ready to face truth, more functionally intelligent, more on the lookout for what really counts? If it does not, it is not love. The inner work also means letting myself be loved. For most of us, with our distorted self-images, this means facing the fact that despite our faults, despite the injuries we have caused others, the person who claims to love us is telling the truth. It means dropping the flimsy defense that "you don't really know me" and admitting that the point is not whether we are fully known, but whether we are appreciated and valued for ourselves. It means realizing that we will never be perfect, that we do not need to expend that much energy defending ourselves, that we do not even need to "fix" ourselves through diligent self-therapy. Unless we rely on God and other people for forgiveness, tolerance, and patience, no pathology or self-help therapy will work. This is only an example of finding our way home. Different people will find different paths. But at least knowing what being 528 Review.for Religious human is about shows us what our home looks like. Gradually-- never fully being, but always becoming, human--we will have returned. We can come in and go out as we please. We will have found our home's key: the house is no longer dark. Notes ~ Enneagram, coined from Greek, means "ninefold marking." 2 Capital means that the sins are principal or "head" (capita) sins from which people's other sins flow. Althofigh the enneagram seems to have arisen independently of the Christian tradition, seven of its compulsions match the seven capital sins. The remaining two are bogus morality (Accuser) and bogus success (Status Seeker). 3 No two authors agree on these generic names, but there is general agreement about the descriptions of each type~ Devotees often refer just to the number, as in "She's a raving Two!" (a Helper). 4 See C.G. Jung, Paychological Types (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1926), chap. 10. Isabel Briggs Myers and her mother, Katharine C. Briggs, developed the fourth pair of preferences, judging and perceiv-ing, based on further observations made byJung. Note that they realize that its usefulness applies mainly to the young. See Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type (Gainesville, Florida: Center for Publications' of Psychological Types, 1962), p. 8. s The works on which I have based my remarks are: Maria Beesing et al., The Enneagram: A Journey of Self Discovery (Denville: Dimension Books, 1984); Kathleen Hurley and Theodore Dobson, What's My Type? Use the Enneagram and My Best Self (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 and 1993); Claudio Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker and Character and Neurosis: An Integrative View (Nevada City: Gateways, 1990 and 1994); Helen Pahner, The Enneagram (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); Don Richard Riso, Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). I have also relied on various notes taken by students participating in workshops given by Naranjo and others who derive the substance of their doctrine from him. 6 An exception'is Hurley and Dobson, My Best Self, identifying two distinct compulsions in both the Status Seeker and the Accuser, making a total of eleven compulsions. In .any case, there are no enneagram the-orists I know of who have dealt with the fundamental problem of how to set a limit to types. If there is such a limit, then the types will have to be defined by a set of psychological conditions that are limited and verifiable. For example, Karen Horney's division of three reactions to conflict (against people, toward people, away from people) might be matched against three I-world comparisons (bigger than, equal to, smaller than) to generate exactly nine types. Or against the trio Denial, Overconfidence, Underconfidence. The trio Ignorance, Craving, and Fear seems to under-lie Naranjo's thinking. There are many possibilities. This kind of work will 3~ly-August 1995 529 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram be necessary if the professional psychological community is ever to give credence to the theory and, more to the point, if the theory is ever to be shown to explain the actual range of human compulsions. 7 Gurdjieff, the teacher of this model of personality, claims to have discovered the enneagram in the Sufi tradition, but there is little evi-dence in Sufism of any of the heavy interpretative overlay that it now carries. Gurdjieff's confidence in the diagram seems based on numerol-ogy rather than experiment, and he expected that the diagram could rep-resent any human or natural process. 8 Diagnostic and Stat#tical Manual of Mental Disorders III (Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1987). 0 9 See Albert Ellis, Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1963), chap. 3, "Irrational Ideas Which Cause and Sustain Emotional Disturbances," pp, 60-88. l0 The reader should note inconsistencies in the enneagram designs. In Naranjo's Character and Neurosis, pp. 199 and 245, and throughout his Ennea-Type Structures, the triangle arrows run clockwise. Everywhere else in Character and Neurosis, they run counterclockwise. tt Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures, pp. xix-xx, and Character and Neurosis, p 36. Hereafter page references will be to Ennea-Type Structures, with corresponding references to Character and Neurosis in italics. ~2 See pp. 30/61 and 63/219. He also describes ontic obscuration as: "obscuration . . . of the natural, original, and truest support for one's sense of personal value" (45/196); "the universal pain of fallen con-sciousness, beyond type-bound characteristics" (45/196); "lack of ground-ingin being" (107/197); and "loss of wholeness and sense of being" (138/150). o 13 Walter Burghardt SJ notes that John Courtney Murray relies on this distinction to clarify how weak the old Catholic reliance on dogma-tism really was. See "The Richness of a Resource," in A Spirituality for Contemporary Life, ed. David L. Fleming SJ (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1991). Murray may well have relied on Lonergan's Insight (New York: Philosophical Library, 1958) for this notion (for which, see real in its index). 14 See Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 53, 55, and passim. I have developed these notions more at length in Lonergan and Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985) and Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco, 199 I). Is Naranjo, pp. 47/197, 92/94, and 125/173. 16 These powers are traditionally called faith, charity, and hope. I have avoided the traditional terms in an effort to avoid conceptualism and to make clear how religious love heals the injured psyche. 17 Naranjo, p. 158/275. 530 Review for Religious MARY WINIFRED Imaging Spiritual Direction Ipn spite of a plethora of spiritual direction programs pur-orting to train those who would be spirithal directors, it remains a fact that gifts of direction are just that--gifts, not learned skills. Spiritual direction involves listening and hearing, discernment, clarity of vision, and assistance in the development of a relationship between an 'individual and God. While learned skills may assist a spiritual director, it is only deep sensitivity devel-oped through years of personal prayer that enables true spiritual direction. It is often easier to say what spiritual direction is not, than to describe what it is. For example, spiritual direction is not psychotherapy; it is not life skills taught by a social worker; it is not catechistic training for specific church membership. " In a pamphlet entitled Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen says: "It is of great value to submit our prayer life from time to time to the supervision of a spiritual guide. A spiritual director in this strict sense is not a counselor, a therapist, or an analyst, but a mature fellow Christian to whom we choose to be accountable for our spiritual life and from whom we can expect prayerful guid-ance in our constant struggle to discern God's active presence in our lives, A spiritual director can be called 'soul friend' (Kenneth I2eech) or a" 'spiritual friend' (Tilden Edwards). It is important that he or she practice the disciplines of the Church and the Book and thus become familiar with.the space in which we try to listen to God's voice. The way we relate to our spiritual director depends very much on our needs, our personalities, and external circum-stances. Some people may want to see their spiritual director Mary Winifred CtlS is the Sister-in-Charge of St. Cuthbert's Retreat House; Federal Hill Road; Brewster, New York 10509. ¯ July-August 199Y S31 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction biweekly or monthly, others will find it sufficient to be in touch only when the occasion asks for it. Some people may feel the need for a more extensive sharing with their spiritual director, while others will find seeing him or her once in a while for a few short moments to be sufficient. It is essential that one Christian helps another Christian to enter without fear into the presence of God and there to discern God's call" (8-9). Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. While training in prayer and meditation may certainly make one a more articulate spiritual director, neverthe-less spiritual direction remains a vocation unfettered by rules and regulations, by industry standards, or by a financial fee scale. Most spiritual directees practice St. Paul's suggestion in the Letter to the Galatians, "Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher" (6:6), by making some gift to their directors: homemade bread, flowers from the garden, a book or tape, or some other item; money does not usually enter into a spiritual direction agreement, nor should it. Unlike therapy or counseling, which are professional relationships between a ther-apist or counselor and a client, spiritual direction is a relation-ship of charity and generosity between fellow Christians. Spiritual gifts cannot be purchased; they are not for sale. Three images of the spiritual life may help to indicate ways in which the presence of a director (or mentor or soul friend) may effectively aid us in our growth Godwards. The first image, offered by Thomas H. Green, is :that of a marketplace. The marketplace--or, as Green also labels it, the ldtchen!--is the part of our lives that encompasses a multitude of small, necessary, sometimes tedious tasks which can seem to draw us away from the richness and quiet of our interior lives. "Frequently," Green says, "the demands and frustrations of the apostolate, or of raising a family and earning a living, seem to be merely obstacles to a genuine and deep prayer life. But if I am right in explaining the way the Lord works through these exter-nal activities and events, then we should see them quite differ-ently. Far from being obstacles to our interior growth, they become for us the very sandpaper of our sanctification, at least as important to our growth as what happens in the solitude of for-mal prayer" (121). 532 Review for Religious These are not particularly comfortable thoughts, especially for those of~us who would like to discover a large block of unin-terrupted quiet. Often it is only with the help of a wise spiritual director that we can begin to uncover and acknowledge the wealth of spiritual graces hidden in our routine daily tasks and to see opportunities in what have earlier appeared to be only obstacles. Another, who listens with detached concern, will not only listen to the occasional frustration, tiredness, or boredom in our every-day tasks, but will also hear the voice of God calling to us from what may, on the surface, seem to be 'merely dull routine. As surely as God works in this world, God is also available to us in our work, however .tedious and distracting our marketplace--or kitchen--may feel at times. Another ancient and popular image for the spiritual life is that of a journey or pilgrimage. John Gorsuch describes such a spiri-tual journey as a moving out from a place of assumed comfort, beckoned on by God into the unknown. The image of a journey is particularly apt if considered in its various stages: there is a beginning, with its preparations and planning; the travel itself; and the goal of the journey. In the early stages of beginning a journey, there may be excitement and feverish planning--a guide is helpful here in focusing our attention and helping us to leave behind our unnecessary baggage. I once watched my sister prepar-ing for a backpacking trip: with the advice of an experienced back-packer friend, she was encouraged to take only the essential objects, leaving her backpack light enough to carry and yet stocked with exactly what she would need. But traveling, no matter how well it is planned and prepared, is nevertheless an adventure into the unknown. Often we must stop to ask for directions or other help. In traveling this may be as simple as "Yes, you're on the right road" or "Two more blocks Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. July-August 199Y 533 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction and then turn left"; on a spiritual journey, as simple as "Keep lis-tening in your prayer" or "Look in the mirror every morning: you will see a person God loves profoundly." If we are fortunate enough to have a good and reliable guide or director, we are soon back on track. At times, too, the journey's route may seem long and wearisome--turning aside or even giving up altogether may look like the most positive option. Then a wise mentor's word of encouragement may challenge and enliven us to continue with new energy and zeal. And then there is the goal to our journey. Sometimes we are so caught up in the travel itself that we lose sight of the goal. A friend and I once planned to spend a restful week together; iron-ically, we also planned too many sight-seeing activities, with the result that the true goals of the week--to ,rest and enjoy each other's company--were lost. So, on a spiritual journey, it is easy to be distracted by circumstances and surroundings from our true goal of knowing God. We need a wise and discerning director to help us in maintaining a clarity of vision about our goal. A third image is that of epiphany. Adrian van Kaam, from whom I have borrowed this image, describes an epiphany as the "shining forth of eternity in daily people, in often unnoticed events and things" (8). It is an epiphany that comes through in the openness and vulnerability of spiritual direction. Van Kaam goes on to say: "The risen Lord is our life now. Our life must become a hymn of praise to Jesus rising in us . Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is at hand in each of us. It is already here and now, for we are called to share his resurrection in humanity and history" (65). And surely this is the heart of spiritual direction, that one Christian shares freely with another a word of help, a message of encouragement, a glimpse of eternity. Bibliography Gorsuch, John R An Invitation to the Spiritual Journey. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990. Green, Thomas H. Darkness in the Marketplace. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1981. Nouwen, Henri. Spiritual Direction. Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 1981. Van Kaam, Adrian. The Music of Eternity. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1990, 534 Review for Religious MARY C. SULLIVAN The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs It is 2 June 1577. Teresa of Avila is, in effect, under house arrest in the convent of the Discalced Carmelites in Toledo, Spain--a community she founded in 1569.1 She has been on the road for almost ten years, establishing reformed monasteries of Carmelite women and even of Carmelite men committed to the poverty, silence, soli-tude, penance, prayer, and detachment she believes are envisioned in the primitive Rule. But now for the last year she has been ordered to remain in one of her convents (she chooses Toledo) because of political tensions between the Calced and Discalced Carmelites. She is regarded by the Calced as a ringleader who must be kept out of cir-culation. To add to her isolation, on 18 June 1577 the papal nuncio Nicol~is Ormaneto, who has been friendly to the reform, will die, and his successor, Felipe Sega, will come to Spain in August already prejudiced against Teresa and her work. He will later call her "a. restless gadabout woman, disobedient and stubborn, who under the cloak of devotion invented wicked opinions, going about breaking enclosure, contrary to the decree of the Council of Trent and the orders of her superiors, teaching as if she were a doctor, in contempt of the teaching of St. Paul, who com-manded women not to teach."2 Mary C. Sullivan RSM works in the College of Liberal Arts of Rochester Institute of Technology. She may be addressed at Sisters of Mercy; 18 Upton Park; Rochester, New York 14607. heritage j~uly-August 1995 535 Sullivan ¯ The Brazier That Is My God Prologue But now, in early June 1577, during her enforced reclusion, Teresa is in Toledo, writing a book on prayer at the request of her confessor, Jer6nimo Gracifin, a Discalced priest. By the end of July, after one month of work on Las Moradas (The Interior Castle, or The Dwelling Places3), she will be recalled to Avila, where against her own desire she has again been elected prioress of Incarnation, the Carmelite convent she entered as a young woman and from which in 1562 she will found San Jos4, the first convent of the Reform, across town in Avila. But the Carmelite authorities do not want Teresa to be the prioress of Incarnation. They will call for a second vote, and when fifty-four sisters at Incarnation persist in electing Teresa, these sisters will be ex-communicated and denied the sacraments. On 3 December of this same year, John of the Cross, the confessor and spiritual director at Incarnation, will be abducted from Avila at night by Calced friars and taken to the windowless closet cell in the Toledo monastery of the Calced Carmelites where he will remain impris-oned for six months. Simultaneous with all this, the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing in Seville, having been operating as a powerful ecclesiastical tribunal for almost a hundred years. The manuscript of Teresa's Life has been in the Inquisition's possession for two years, after being denounced to it by the dis-appointed and vindictive Princess of Eboli.4 In the midst of all this difficulty, most of which deeply dis-tressed her, in the six-month period from 2 June to 29 November 1577 (which will actually amount to only two months of writing time), Teresa will start and complete her masterwork, The Dwelling Places, the treatise on prayer and virtue which more than any other of her writings led Pope Paul VI in 1970 to declare her a doctor of the universal church. Not once in this volume does Teresa refer explicitly to the external affairs which weigh so heavily on her mind and heart, though her letters of this period amply demon-strate her concern, and dismay. Rather, in this magnificent book about a human person's gradually increasing communion with the God dwelling within her, Teresa speaks about the prayer of per-sonal conversion, the prayer of reordering and reordered charity within the human heart. And so The Dwelling Places is a book which may contribute immeasurably to the present-day conversion of the church, of religious life, and of the hearts of individual Christian women and men. 536 Review for Reli

Issue 51.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1992. ; for religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universio,., by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the "Canonical Counsel" department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 V~;ashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Senti address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, anti additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents life choices 326 A Monastic Way in the World Theresa Mancuso tells of the monasticism she has found herself continuing to live now for ten years in New York City, ever since she left her monastery in upstate New York. 337 I Leap Back Over the Wall Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap offers reflections on his experience of reentering a religious community. 341 Why We Stay Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ presents a personal witness to a lasting commitment to the religious vocation. 347 When a Sister or Brother Leaves Melannie Svoboda SND offers personal reflections on the departure from religious life of a lifelong friend. transitions 356 The Integral Sabbatical Brian B. McClorry SJ blends the traditional sabbatical elements of coursework and reading with time in a remote wilderness and discovers the riches of the ordinary. 373 Using Ignatian Discernment Philip L. Boroughs SJ applies the Ignatian principles for discernment to a person in a time of transition. scripture and spiritual life 388 A Woman's Compassionate and Discerning Heart Mary Lou Cranston CND examines the compassionate heart of the. woman in 1 Kings 3 as a model for understanding discernment and its relationship to religious obedience and governance. 397 Peter's Characterization in Luke-Acts Lola M. Wells proposes that a unified reading of Luke-Acts provides a valuable portrait of individual discipleship. 3 2 2 Review for Religious 403 Petitionary Prayer in a Biblical Perspective John H. Zupez SJ reflects on the constant value of petitionary prayer especially through a more mature way of entering into our Scriptures. 408 Hasidism, Creation, and the Psalms Joseph Fichtner OSC, guided by the Hasidic tradition, finds in the Psalms an awe-filled creation spirituality alert to the Creator's presence and power. devotional life 417 Marian Spirituality and Apparitions Walter T. Brennan OSM suggests that the proliferation of Marian apparitions leaves us living in a gray area of pastoral judgment and practice, but paradoxically gray is full of color. 424 The Mirror Image in Clare of Assisi Sister Karen Karper develops how Clare presents Christ as the mirror of one's own deepest identity and its apostolic implications. charism and mission 432 Reclaiming Competence Theresa M. Monroe RSCJ indicates that some careful limits and boundaries would protect the creativity our times demand of religious institutes. 453 Restructuring William F. Hogan CSC points out that restructuring in religious congregations must balance the twofold need to maintain institutional essentials and to adapt to the challenges of the mission. 458 reflection Why Claude la Colombi~re? John A. McGrail SJ uses the canonization of Claude la Colombi~re to consider the roots and contemporary value of devotion to the Sacred Heart. departments 324 Prisms 461 Canonical Counsel: Voluntary Exclaustration 469 Book Reviews May-j~une 1992 323 prisms Pope John Paul II seems to be setting a record in saint making. In his various missionary travels, he frequently celebrates the ritual of beatification or can-onization of a woman or man recognized for holiness by the local people. Some are critical of this making of saints. "Out of step with the times," they say. Others just wonder why. We human beings need our heroes and heroines. The stories of women and men who have captured our minds and hearts because of their bravery, their dedicated service, their contribution to a more humane world have been told in every culture and in every age. The names change, the circumstances differ, but the inspiration for human living remains the same. We all seem to be searching for a glimpse or two of heroism not too far from home. Yet some fear or some reluctance appears to stifle, early on, our own desire for the heroic. Various factors may contribute to this reluc-tance. Perhaps pop psychology, too readily imbibed as Gospel, has made us too content with being the ordinary persons we are, too willing to be coddled into a generic self-esteem. Or when heroes are proposed, a mean spirit in us and in our culture may drive us to search out ways to cut these people back down to ordinary size . . . or less. Maybe such behavior flows from a poorly idealized pro-letarian spirit which is a communist residue in us all. Often it seems that heroes or heroines are quickly raised up and 324 Review fbr Relig4ous just as quickly forgotten. Perhaps our enthusiasm for their exam-ple and their deeds lasts no longer than the music or video of the moment. Then, too, we probably fear the disappointment of the hero or heroine letting us down; we surely fear the cost of hero-ism for ourselves. Despite such stifling factors or because of them, our need for inspiring heroism to permeate our everyday world in the living example of contemporary women and men remains. The vari-ous spiritual traditions in the church have been first enfleshed in the lives of women and men before they came to be written down as programs for the following of Christ. Life and ministry shone out in persons with names and faces before any rule or constitu-tions were formulated. There comes a time in every spirituality when structures or formulas or written theological treatises are essential if it is to become a heritage or tradition within the church community. A common way that particular spiritualities have been institutionalized has been through the foundation of religious congregations. Religious life does not exist as a generic reality, but only in particular embodiments, each with its own approved rule of life, an organized spiritual tradition. A religious rule of life, then, not only provides for the identity of a particular reli-gious family as a legitimate form of following Christ, but also ¯ brings that family's prophetic voice to the harmonies and coun-terpoints of the church on earth. The danger of any heritage arises when it becomes a tomb or sculpted sarcophagus, beautiful in its form, but containing disconnected bones devoid of breath. Only heroes and heroines make spiritualities live. Can people live heroic lives in an unheroic age? The answer obviously lies with us. No matter what our spirituality or her-itage may be, the people who embody it for us retain an impor-tance beyond a brilliant theoretical study of a particular charism or some wonderfully fashioned new constitutions. Saints, both old and new, hold out to us the promise that this kind of a fol-lowing of Christ is humanly possible. Requiring a little heroism, perhaps, but humanly possible. Our church and our world need heroes and heroines. Anyone of us who is serious about the spiritual heritage we try to live rec-ognizes the call within it to be heroic. To paraphrase Chesterton, it is not so much that heroism has been tried in our day and found wanting; rather, today we try so little to be heroic. .David L. Fleming SJ May-3~une 1992 325 life choices THERESA MANCUSO A Monastic Way in the World Into the darkness of a cold winter's night, I peer quietly from my third-floor window, reflective after the day's work. Gathering up my briefcase and tightening my gray woolen scarf close about my face, I leave the office and head up Lafayette Street towards the "M" train. This is the evening part of my daily routine, the trip home from work. Upstate far away the semantron sounds over halcyon hills of white birch. Monks and nuns make ready to answer the call of the monastery bell which will soon follow the hol-low rhythm of the semantron. Donning black choir robes, they will take their places for Vespers. Ancient chants will blend harmoniously with the whistling mountain wind as it purrs along the windows of the monastery church. Still living my self-imposed exile of a decade, I walk through the darkening streets of lower Manhattan as falling snow shimmers softly about the dim street lights. I hear down-town church bells chiming six o'clock. The old nostalgia rises as I hustle down broken concrete steps into.the cold, damp tunnel, far from the candlelight kingdom of my monastery home. The "M" train screeches into the sta-tion, jamming to a stop along the drab platform. Doors fling open and I rush to board, jostled by the crowd, my fellow travelers, all scrambling for a seat. Everything monastic, everything I love, is far away and long removed, Theresa Mancuso has been a member of an active religious order and of.a monastic community. She has published on wide-ranging topics 'including religious education, elder abuse, and criminal probation. She lives at 448 Seventh Avenue; Brooklyn, New York 11215. 326 Review for Religious but I carry it still in my heart. Here in the streets of the city or deep beneath them hurling through subterranean corridors on hard cold rails of steel, I ponder the Desert Fathers and the vows I made years ago while walking in their pathways. Every day, five days out of seven, I begin and end my travels at Union Street station in the underside of Park Slope, Brooklyn. It is a poor neighborhood unreclaimed by urban renewal. Trash and waste clutter its curbs and sidewalks, a place where immigrants cling tena-ciously to the fringes of hope that carried them from their homes in Ecuador, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, parts of Asia, Africa, and Eastern Europe. They work hard here and live hard, struggling to make it on Union Street. These are my neigh-bors and I am theirs. Amid the drama of daily life unfolding here with its stark reality calling me toward a new wisdom, I park my car and climb down the subway steps to board the train to and from Manhattan. Every morning and every evening my meditation begins and ends here, my earnest prayer rising from the cold and lonely street. The crowded train on weekday mornings teaches me much of patience and endurance. Pushing, shoving, sweating, shivering, they board, riders of this underground iron horse, travel-weary as they squeeze into place. Once settled, the subway people sink into watchful silence, hardly raising their eyes yet ever on guard. Destinies mingle here in this place where the sun does not shine and danger is always just a breath away. Muggings and murder are familiar specters in the New York City subway. The security of the monastery is a dream-like state, a fading unfamiliar mem-ory. There is no security here. Here one rides in the arms of Divine Providence, wrapped in total abandonment under the pro-tection of the Mother of God. There are no promises of personal safety in the darkness of this daily voyage underneath the city. I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. Some'read Scripture, openly holding a small Bible on their laps; some say the rosary, while others sit straight with hands folded in the perfect posture of meditation. How true ring the words that rise in my heart as the train rushes forward, "Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us." I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. May-.~une 1992 327 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic V~ay in the IVorld Dirt and discomfort surround me as I call upon the assistance of the Holy Spirit to quiet my soul and prepare my mind to reflect more deeply on that which alone is nec.es~ary. In this, the most unlikely of places, I have learned to make my daily prayer. Well I remember the daily formula used in my earliest experience of religious life, when the superior commenced the community's prayer time with the words: "Let us place ourselves in the pres-ence of God and ask the assistance of the H?ly Spirit to make our meditation well." These words speak themselves in my mind as the subway train runs along the track. The harsh screech of iron wheels blazing along the curved track under the East River assaults my ears as my mind focuses on interior prayer. My eyes meet a kaleidoscope of society, fellow travelers scurrying like ants on their way to anyplace but here. They are part of the collage of prayer that rises in my heart. Sometimes I wrestle with truths of the spiritual life learned in the safe, secure society of robed monks and nuns and I try to apply those truths to today's society, neither safe nor secure. What is monasticism if not the road to repentance? And what is this daily voyage in the belly of the earth if not a journey of repentance? I study my companions .along t_fie way, for they will often teach me without saying a word. Busines~ men and women dressed in smart somber suits, their briefcases clutched with pro-found importance--their presence awakens me to the cries of sec-ular society. I watch students and tourists with backpacks loaded on their shoulders, leftover hippies with long hair tied in greasy ponytails. I observe ill-clad .teenagers late for school or playing hookey, perhaps, instead. The sea of humanity that ebbs and flows around me leads me deeper into contemplation of the Creator who knows them all, each by name, who reads the secrets of their hearts and hears their every longing. My fellow riders are of every race, religion, color, size, and descriptign. Together we hurl through tl~is iron tube deep in the belly of darkness. The homeless are here, too, dreary and desolate, fighting a daily battle with hunger, told, and desperation. They live on the subway trains or ride them until they are evicted, for here at least there is some warmth and shelter from the outdoor elements. Coffee cups are freqtiently extended in their dirty hands under hungry, sad, defeated eyes. What can they not teach me of poverty and penance? Indeed, I am embarrassed at the luxuries I knew in the monastery while they, the poor and dispossessed, not 328 Review for Religiog~ by vow but by reality, have perhaps not for one instant in a life-time known real comfort, security, or personal safety. They force me to reexamine everything I once took for granted. I count their sufferings in vacant eyes and in the biting fatigue on faces worn and haggard. They call me to deeper repentance without saying a single word, me who have enjoyed so much of what they lack. Outside the protection and security of the religious life, outside the shelter of community, I have come to new terms with reality, to understand at last what it really means to have no one and nothing but God. Sometimes the subway poor wander through the train speak-ing loudly, interrupting our smug self-centered silence. We are reading, we are thinking, we are silent; they are begging. They ask for change or a dollar perhaps if they feel lucky. But straphanger charity is always unpredictable. Accursed with misfortune, they ride side by side with the powerful and privileged while I, look-ing from one to the other, remember that poverty has many faces. I see it there, poverty, even among the rich, poverty of spirit and of morals, poverty of faith, bankruptcy of the soul. My heart is forced to consider the meaning of poverty in vows I took so long ago and the poverty I practice today, for after all some kind of poverty is essential to the monastic life. But everything is differ-ent now; I understand for the first time in my life the struggle for survival others must face. When I offer one of them the small and meager gift of a dollar or a dime, I know that I am here not for the purpose of teaching them but in order that I may learn. So different from the monastery classroom, this too is an education of the heart. When I left the monastery ten years ago, I fully expected to abandon forever the life I had known, for twenty-five years, the religious life. I thought I was headed for secular society, for free-dom and promise in a world without restrictions and restraints, away from the rigors of community life with all its pain and heartache. I came to New York City at the recommendation of the metropolitan. But, once here, I soon realized that I had only taken the nun out of the monastery, not out of me. All my experiments with other lifestyles served to teach me that monastic life was rooted far deeper and more intensely in my heart than I had ever dreamed. My spiritual journey continued 'far from the support of monastery routine, far from the view of the monastery community. May-.~une 1992 329 Mancuso ¯ ~1 Monastic Way in the World Indeed I found myself living alone the same monastic life I lived in the community. All I had read in years gone by concerning the Camaldolese in the West and ideorhythmic monks in the East began to make great sense to me. Could I survive spiritually as a monastic living in the world? I sought a spiritual teacher and could not find one. Then I found one, strange and unexpected, in New York City; not a per-son, but a phenomenon: this daily ride on hard cold rails of steel. The New York Subway System, harsher than the sternest spiritual father, pulled me from the gutter of despair in the dismal winter of 1981. It dragged me down the cold dark tunnel of despon-dency and forced me to choose between life and death. There I was forced to cling to God with all my might lest I fall from the subway platform by my own step and crash on the tracks below in the path of the roaring train. Ten years have healed that broken-ness. A new hunger awakened within me. A new spiritual jour-ney began as I recommited myself to the monastic way. My search for monasticism in the city led me to understand that what I needed was monasticism of the heart. I knew I could not go back before I grew up, and perhaps never. What I needed more than ever before in my life was an authentic spirituality, a genuine monasticism, for now I was a nun without a monastery, alone in a world I did not know or understand. My new cloister was the streets of the city; my new obedience, an obedience to reality and the obligations of survival. The cold, hard teacher I had found was the subway itself---with no name, no face, and no heart and demanding of me complete abandonment and total surrender to God. It spoke to me as surely as any spiritual teacher I have ever known. It spoke because my whole being was listening. I was searching with all my heart. That is what great spiritual longing does; it opens every fiber .of one's being. Then one can truly hear. At last. One listens best when no more escapes are possible. Every day, morning and evening, I found myself grappling with the mysteries of faith and reality, struggling to discern the presence of God in the secular world. The milieu of faith I had known in religious life and took so much for granted was far behind me now. I had to create one in myself if I was to retain a spiritual focus in my life. In the personless hands of this tutelage, there was no protection, no one to turn to, no arms to hold me faint with fatigue. Fear loomed up over the darkness of my soul like fog on the docks of South Street Seaport. In the beginning I 330 Review far Religiaus was angry, depressed and bitter. Confusion reigned where once I thought I knew my purposes. Conflict raged. Gradually, from daily meditation and interior prayer deep in the darkness of the earth as I traveled the subway system, there came the dawn of a soft, strong light which began to illumine the darkness of my spirit. I remembered words spo-ken to me long ago by my father when I was just a little girl: "There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." Slowly I regained perspective on the original purpose of my life, my spiritual journey. Is there, I wondered, searching my heart, the possibility of being an authentic monastic living in the world? And if there is, what shall it ask of me and how shall I answer? When the doors we have passed through are closed and locked behind us and those we have loved no longer speak our name, then indeed we must come to the truth or we shall surely perish. And if the truth should call us on alone, girded only with the armor of faith, with no assurances and no compan-ions to stave off the terror of the night, when there is no road back, we must carve our own road forward. When that which we have loved the most is forever lost to us, we must build a new tabernacle in the desert of the heart. This is the vocation of the monk or nun in the world. To bring to birth in the solitude of society an authentic monasticism of the heart, alone except for God and whatever he provides. Every morning I exit the train at Chambers Street and make my way up the subway steps. The stench of urine greets me, the first smell I perceive each day in downtown New York. I who love the warm richness of burning incense and the leaping flame of candlelight, I am thrust into this daily reminder of what is behind and what lies before me: the smell of the street and its treachery, the darkness of places where candles never flicker. I am Moses in the desert, forty years of wandering across the wasteland of Manhattan. Today I pass two Hasidim studying a subway map just outside the entrance of the train. One is bent with age, his white beard flowing over the collar of a shiny black coat. The other is young, unmarried, tall and blond with side curls fluffing out from under his black yarmulka and felt hat. They do not acknowledge me, a goy, though I pass within inches of their out- 'There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." May-~t~une 1992 331 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World spread map. On Centre Street a Chinese peddler opens a stall, displaying his wares on two small sidewalk tables set by the curb. He and his wife sell woolen caps, scarves, sweatshirts, and pants. Their breaths steam like smoke in the windy street. Here on the next corner the Italian sausage man has been standing for several hours beside his concession wagon. Smells of sausage and sauerkraut overwhelm me as I pass, for the day is very young. I walk behind two black lawyers dressed in gray three-piece suits. They are deeply engaged in conversation with a white woman, also an attorney. She wears herself proud, this articulate lady; achievement and prominence like her gold earrings proclaim her success in a man's world. They head toward the courthouse on Centre Street carrying their serious leather briefcases with an air of profound importance. I think about pride and power and humil-ity and powerlessness. I think about the righteousness of law. A thin young man, alone and smiling, dressed in woman's clothing, sits on the bench at Thomas Paine Park, quietly hum-ming to himself. He is there every day, all day. Across the street a tall Hispanic man, handsome in his faded blue jeans and tan hooded sweatshirt, keeps his post with hand outstretched. He entertains passersby, juggling several coffee cups and telling humorous stories. Is he a fool for Christ's sake, or has he only learned to play the fool in hope of an extra quarter in his cup? When the morning crowd has passed and rush hour is over, he slumps onto a park bench and does crossword puzzles until later in the day when he will resume his trade, the daily round of beg-ging. I walk on toward Lafayette and Leonard Street. A homeless woman pushes a grocery-store cart which contains all her earthly possessions. She is wrapped in layers of rags. Near the corner of Worth Street, I notice the old cab driver, an Irishman with shin-ing blue eyes and stubbly beard. He is retired now to a life of penury, another beggar on the streets of the city. He sits on the park bench combing white disheveled hair just as he did yester-day, just as he will do tomorrow. What monk weaving baskets in the desert or writing music in a modern monastery knows greater mortification or penance than he? Soon he will change his wet socks no matter how cold it is. In the rain, in the sleet, in the snow, or in the sun I see him every day, his stack of reclaimed newspapers beside him. I wonder if he ever thinks of God, or must he always worry about his daily bread? I continue down Centre Street and lift my eyes to read words 332 Review for Religious inscribed high on the courthouse faCade: "The true administration of justice is the firmest pillar of good government." I think a lot about justice. Justice, mercy, and charity. Righteousness and law. I think about the government of our country, the government of the church and that of monastic life. I wonder about politics in places where politics should have no place, the house of God. I wonder if the hand of justice can ever reach beyond the bound-aries of political alliances, those in the world and those in the church. Does the true administration of justice happen anywhere, I wonder, and if so, when and where? Who renders justice in real-ity? Is the government of the church and that of monasteries in particular built on true justice and charity, or is it linked to the power of a few who have pleased their superiors and risen to high places? Who are the recipients of justice? And I, when shall I learn to be just? When shall I have the courage for justice and charity? Crossing the street before the light changes, I ponder the plight of those for whom justice never happens and charity is but a word, those in the world and those in the church. Now I head toward the large marble building at the corner of Lafayette and Leonard Street. Its dark charcoal .walls shine in the morning sun. It is here on the third floor that I work in the New York City Department of Probation housed in the Family Court Building. It is time now to concern myself with matters of crim-inal justice: domestic violence, restitution, probationer miscon-duct, probationer drug tests. My tasks are writing and analysis. I lay aside my morning reflections and commit myself to the day's work. It, too, has something to teach me. In the monastery I baked cheesecakes and bread, I built cabinets and furniture, grew vegetables and cooked for the community. I tended guests and prepared the hospitality we offered to strangers. Did that work dif-fer so much from the work I do today? Was it more purifying to my soul or more pleasing to God than these hours before the computer researching and writing about criminal justice? Who can say that one is somehow more pleasing to God than another? Is it not the heart that makes the difference?. Everywhere there is something to learn. Often have I looked into the eyes of a pro-bationer, understanding that we are all on probation in this world, all of us facing the opportunity to change our lives or not, and the consequences thereof. Nothing, it seems, is incapable of teaching us if we pay attention with our hearts. This is the way it is, five days a week, every week of the year. May-.~une 1992 333 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Vday in the IVorM All about me are the signs God places in my path calling me back to himself over and over again. I gather up the fragments of the day, bits and pieces of reality, signposts and fellow travelers I have met along my way. I take them to my heart, where like candles they illumine the darkness of my soul. I pray for them as I pon-der what they have told me without speaking. I am jostled into awareness by the touch of their reality on my own. In seventeenth-century France a man named Vincent, now called St. Vincent de Paul in the Roman Catholic Church and considered by Western Christianity to be the universal father of charity, said to his first sisters--those early pioneer sisters in social service, for nuns until that time were always cloistered in monas-teries--" Your cloister will be the streets of the city and your chapel the parish church." On the streets of New York and beneath them, I have entered a new and different cloister, a spiritual one. It is not an enclo-sure; indeed, it is very open. Open to reality. Open to grace. The parish church is indeed my chapel. There in the sacred hours of Vespers and Divine Liturgy I come to understand what Vincent de Paul was talking about. It is a phenomenon of the last decades that numerous sisters, brothers, monks, nuns, and priests have left the enclosure of con-vents and monasteries and ventured forth into the world. For sure, many of them have completely turned to new lifestyles, abandoning the old. Some have married, others have entered paths altogether removed from that on which they first set their course. I am among another group, that of monks and nuns liv-ing alone in the world and striving to continue the monastic jour-ney started in community. Some may say that monks and nuns in the world cannot be monks or nuns at all. Perhaps so. Perhaps not. If monasticism is repentance and conversion of heart, surely anyone with goodwill who sets out on the path of repentance and conversion of heart is truly a monk, truly a nun. If monasticism is the search for truth and harmony in the universe, a search for God hidden beneath all the layers of reality that cover everything and everybody, then those who search are truly monks and truly nuns. If the habit does not make the monk and the essence of monasticism is seeking God above all things and striving to live the spiritual life with all one's being, then those who commit to this sacred journey--whether alone or in community, dressed in 334 Review for Religious religious attire or secular garb, recognized or not recognized by official ecclesiastical structures--are truly authentic monks and nuns. The riason of the choir is not suitable for the street, but the true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, ation. One need not live in a monastery to wear this authentic spiritual robe, and thus clothed on the inside of one's being, one is truly a monk, truly a nun. Yes, it is frightening to ~tand on the edge of the desert and know that absolutely there is no other way to pass. It is hard to go naked into the nigh.t of the spirit with no comforts, no road maps, no spiritual father or mother, no companions for sup-port or sustenance. Alone. This stripping, however, of everything we mistake for safety and security is the reality that makes us true monks and true nuns in company with those who have gone before us, the Desert Fathers of antiquity. I do not wish to compare one form of monastic life with and love for his cre- The true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, and love for his creation. another. I do not wish to contrast the merits of living in com-munity and living in the world. Rather, what I wish to ponder is the fact of the spiritual journey, the reality of the spiritual searcher whereve~ he or she may be. This inner journey never ends though everything may change. If we know that, whatever may have gone before us and whatever yet may come, there is no path for us but through the desert, no cloak for us but the mercy of God, no pos-ture but humility and repentance before his face, then we have sufficient knowledge to continue on the path. He will provide all that is needed. If we find ourselves aware that we have no road map, no comfort station, no companion to lighten our burden and cheer us along, how shall we find our way? Will fear and loneliness defeat us? Having lost or abandoned everything, the soul stands naked and empty in the face of its Creator. This is the moment of truth. Accepting our essential nakedness and littleness, we take our emptiness back to God. Kenosis. The outpouring, the emptying of our hearts. Everything we have done and have failed to do. We gather up the fragments of our lives and return them to the Lord. May-.l~une 1992 335 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World Holy wisdom teaches us that everything lost in time will be recov-ered in eternity. Our task is but to seek the Master who calls us to the feast. Contemplating the mercy and terrible judgment of God, how shall we stand? Only in abandonment and complete surren-der, with no excuses and no demands except to pray: "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we for-give those who trespass against us." When all the rest is taken from us or when we, like foolish children, have ourselves run from our Father's house, have nothing, we may yet have every-thing, for only faith, hope, and love remain, "and the greatest of these is love." I wonder as I wander the streets and subways of New York if the monastery is not really everywhere and monasticism everyone's journey. Over a Garden-Wall at Bambous Mission Ile Maurice Can He be jealous that I hear the music of men's loves swirling whirling over garden-walls dancing through the moonlit trees around, swirling whirling once again and around and out, now carried on the evening breeze mingling with the rustling grass and palms and shyly whispering leaves, now ebbing flowing on the turning tide of salty scented ocean air? Can He be jealous? of me? of them ? Or does He too plainly see and hear the kernel of man's pain and loss and disillusionment they waltz about? And yet He holds me tighter. Cothrai Gogan CSSp 336 Review for Religious COREY S. VAN KUREN I Leap Back Over the Wall tth le 9c5o0n ~Me n° ~ iacf~ d aid ~ni ~y _Cehi rgOh~i~ leeadr s.h ~nr r!eLfl ;c~ o0~ eOr ~eeaV idff' she recounts in classic style what occurred and what she felt as she reentered a world she did not know because of her "hiddenness" in religious life. In the past twenty-five years, many religious have left reli-gious life, and most others have experienced enormous changes in it. Many books and articles have been written about the emo-tional, psychological, and anthropological realities involved in such changes. These writings run the gamut from leaving reli-gious life altogether to changing one's status in a particular com-munity tokeeping the same status in another community with a different history, ministry, charism, or geographic center. Lawrence Rywalt CP, in the September/October 1991 issue of Review for Religious, lays out in fine fashion the realities of what goes on with those who are changing their religious life by pass-ing from a "community of origin" to a "receiving community." Throughout his article he uses terms like "a time of adolescence" to describe the mixed emotions one experiences upon entering the unknown. It is somewhat understandable to this reader, as one who is presently going through this process, that these terms are more than somewhat awkward; they may be harmful if per-ceived to be negative. Not only is there a lack of a "clear" canonical process for Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap is currently in the reentry program of the Capuchin-Franciscan province of St. Mary (New York-New England). His address is St. Michael's Friary; 225 Jerome Street; Brooklyn, New' York 11207. May-~une 1992 337 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall The cycle of leaving/reentry can and perhaps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. defining this reality of "reentry," but the rarity with which it is perceived and coped with, let alone talked about, makes the use of analogy the only way to discuss it. There are no terms proper to this process, so we who exp.erience it and those who must deal with us are forced to speak in analogy or struggle to invent new ways of speaking about who and what we are. (This is as frightening as was the experience of Monica Baldwin in 1950.) In my own case, the entry/reentry process has happened a couple of times. I first entered the Capuchin Order in 1973 and left in 1981 before ordina-tion. I returned for a short stint and left again. In 1986 I was ordained a diocesan priest and now am in a reen-try program with the same province of Capuchins. I firmly believe that the cycle of leaving/reentry can and per-haps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. It is only through the ongoing struggle to find God's will that anyone of us is going to reach sanctity, the goal of any vocation, religious, mar-ried, or single. We need to call the emotions and behaviors they involve by their real names, instead of trying to liken them to any other experience of change. Leaving religious life is no't like divorce, an analogy often heard. Divorce usually happens after prolonged experience of anger, hurt, or at least a clear realization of irrec-or; cilable differences. My own exp~rienc~ and that of others who have talked with me is that we felt, or discerned, that the life we were leading was not what we were then called to, if indeed we ever were called to it. This is not to say that the feelings of loss were not real for us or that we did not miss the people or perhaps even the structures that w~ left behind, but the negativity of such feelings that divorce usually implies was absent. Likewise, to term the process of reentry a time of "adoles-cence" because it might conjure up feelings 6f "anger, despair, fear, chaos, denial, bewilderment, and malaise," as Rywalt sug-gests in his third stage, casts a shadow on the reality of these feel-ings as healthy or as progress or as worthy of an adult. In any event, the expectation of finding such negative feelings is pro- 338 Review for Reli~ous claimed more strongly than any thought of the possibility of feel-ing joy, peace, and a sense of "coming home"--which seems, at least to me, highly possible for those in the reentry process. Just prior to my ordination as a diocesan priest, at a meeting with Bishop Frank Harrison of Syracuse, I revealed to him one fear I had, that I was not sure that I was not called to religious life as I had previously believed and that I might feel compelled to try to reenter religious life in the future. I felt it necessary to speak to him of this feeling before ordination, and must admit that I feared his response might be that I should postpone my ordination until I was sure. Not surprisingly (in looking back and having come to know Bishop Harrison better), his response to me was wise, fatherly, and helpful. In essence, he assured me that this feeling was no reason not to go forward with ordination, pro-vided I was sure that even as a religious my call would include ordained ministry. In addition he laid no claim to knowing what God had in store for him in the future, let alone what the same God had in store for me. The question remains for me: Should it not be possible to change, to move in and through the structures of ministry as we seek God's will, without enduring the analysis of our psycholog-ical motivation, having our behaviors monitored or judgments made about the health or sickness of our actions? It seems to me that as Gospel people we would at least admit to the possibility of a religious motive, the reality of the call. We are too quick to give over to the sciences that which is spiritual, God centered, and not bound by the analysis of science. Is it a bad thing for men and women to constantly try to dis-cern God's will for them? If occasionally this discernment calls for change in structure or movement in or out of structures, need these people be subjected to an analysis of their health, a ques-tioning of their motivations, or must they live with the stigma of being unable to commit? I cannot predict whether my reentry experiment will be sue-cessful in moving me to "profess" again within the Capuchin com-munity. It is my deep hope and desire that it will. However it happens, though, I will neither judge the community nor myself at fault. Nor will I subject myself to questions whether I am mov-ing or not moving through "healthful" stages of development in the process. Prayer, the grace of God through living the Gospel counsels in common, sacramental grace, and meaningful ministry May-June 1992 339 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall will be the reality that decides for me and the community if this reentry is God's will. I find that reality comforting and assuring. I do not want to degrade the proper role of the sciences in defining the realities of our life. But as Christians, as ministers, as religious, we cannot give them positions they do not deserve. They must be seen in the proper perspective, and that means integrated with religious, spiritual realities--not taking their place. The leap back over the wall takes as much grace and courage as does the original leap over the wall. That grace and courage comes from relationship with a loving and forgiving God. Religious find this in the lives and faces of brothers and sisters more than in the psychological and scientific analysis of what is healthy or in other comparisons. A leap over the wall--a leap back over the wall--is always a leap of faith. Antiphonal With joy and gladness we cry out to you, Lord: with love and laughter make our hearts sing today from sunrise to sunset. Wisdom of God, be with us, ever at work in us: guiding our hearts and hands; our thoughts, our words, our works. How happy are we who dwell in your house, 0 Lord, forever praising you. Maryanna Childs OP 340 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Why We Stay Aging, inadequate retirement funds, as well as the high cost of health care that paralleled and intensified these issues, were crises in religious life that Archbishop Rembert Weak]and of Milwaukee and the campaign inaugurated by the American bishops made public. This campaign aimed at bring-ing attention and monies to the plight of religious communities in America. It brought public attention to something else as well. Along with the assessments religious communities were making about themselves and the data provided by professional research organizations, it made plain that religious communities, with their median age then at 62 and rising, could be vanishing from the American culture. What to do? Get more candidates! Vocation ministry then became a recognized need in religious communities. These min-isters were given offices, cars, and money to explore solutions to this problem. What was once left to chance meetings of persons attracted to religious life now became a full-time occupation. When the problem did not get resolved with an influx of members, these vocation ministers started confronting both com-munity leaders and community members about their nonin-volvement in the process of attracting candidates. Religious communities then began to examine their collective consciences. Why are people not attracted to us anymore? Are we doing some-thing wrong? Are we no longer reflecting those religious values Eileen P. O'Hea is a Sister of Saint Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Presently she is working as a therapist and a spiritual director at Stony Lake Office Park; 2459 15th Street N.W.; New Brighton, Minnesota 55112. May-June 1992 341 O'Hea ¯ Why l~Ve Stay that attract people to want to live out the gospel in a religious community? Or have we been so coopted by materialism and our own needs that people see us as just another lifestyle with little connection to the holy and the truly religious? Or perhaps we are just not presenting ourselves, not advertising ourselves enough, not effectively reaching the public's consciousness? Not doing enough or not being enough to attract members was taken seriously by religious communities. But numbers of candidates did not increase. What religious communities found was that there were people "out there" who wanted to join them in prayer and gospel response, but not full-time. This gave birth to associate membership. These associates reminded members of religious congregations of the value and importance of community. They recognized, perhaps intuitively, that the joining of persons in faith and love is essential to the experience of realized love. Religious communities opened their doors and their hearts and found that the relationship between them and their associate members was mutually beneficial. Leaders and members of reli-gious communities latched onto this relationship as the hope for the future of religious life. This new hope was translated into a familiar organizational plan: designate a community member as director of associate membership. Give the person a car, office, and money to explore this undertaking. The beginning of associate membership brought a sigh of relief to communities. Many communities began to see associate membership as the answer to extinction. But, shortly after its ini-tiation, problems began to arise about how much "say" associate members would have in setting the direction for religious com-munities and whether they could vote for members for leader-ship positions or become leaders themselves. How much "say" would associates have about monies spent, or how much access would they have to these monies in time of need? Moreover, actual associate membership, however popular and good, is not weighted in favor of youth and vitality. Some of the individuals attracted to this membership share the same median age as the community with which they associate. Some of a dif-ferent age group visit for a while and then move on or are taken up with other commitments. Some, of course, stay and radiate to the established community their vitality, gifts, and deep spirituality. What Archbishop Wealdand did through the campaign he inaugurated was make thoroughly public what had been only 342 Review for Religious known in the privacy of religious communities. What happens to individuals when they finally express some fear out loud to a friend or therapist happened to religious communities. They could no longer deny or conveniently repress the facts of aging and dimin-ishment. When the private fears of religious communities were brought into the public forum, they became more real, more potent. The problems of aging, not attracting permanent membership, inadequate health care are realities known to members who have chosen to stay in religious life. These problems are compounded especially for women religious as they sometimes experi-ence themselves systematically oppressed by the institutional church. Women have been deeply hurt. In this ecclesial relationship, as in other personal relationships, the hurt can come only if the investment is deep enough. And it is precisely because their love for the church is so deep that women, as well as men, have experienced hurt from some of the structures, operating principles, and mind-sets of the institutional church and its representatives. Some of us have chosen to stay in religious life fully con-scious of the crises and dilemmas presented. Others have left for personal reasons such as fear about the lack of security religious life represents. Still others wrestle with the option of leaving as they look at the statistical data, their experience of the institu-tional church, and the logic of the situation. Some of the reasons people stay are very personal, some are theological, and some are mystical. My reasons for staying incorporate all of these and, I believe, represent some of the convictions and intuitions held by many. One of the sweetest gifts of religious life I have experienced is the friendships I have had and the bonding I have experienced with a group of women who are part of my community. Though I do not stay in religious life because of them, their presence is very important. If you could imagine us all standing in a circle facing a luminous light, dancing our way to that light, it would image this reality somewhat. We weave in and out of each other's lives in this dance of life, knowing the reality of the center and at times being that center of light for each other. Though I do not stay in religious life because of my friends, their presence is very important. May-~Zune 1992 343 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay The ones not in my immediate circle I know belong to another circle of their own intimate friends. We do not experience the light in each other yet. But our experience in community and our interdependence over the years have brought us from mutual rejection or intolerance to mutual appreciation of the differences between our personalities and mutual caring about each other. Someday, after my negative intellectual and emotional program-ming has been purified, I will know that they too are light. In the meantime I am surrounded by women who, at some level, value the search and desire to be one with God and struggle to live this out in their ministry and personal life. In the novitiate our novice director told us that we would be given a hundredfold return. I could not then imagin~ what that could mean, but reflection on the past years says that is so. Although my life has been difficult at points, especially through the sting of a celibate lifestyle, it has also been life-giving and full of wonderful people and experiences that belonging to a reli-gious community has either allowed or facilitated. And although I can point to oppression in the past (religious life, like marriage and other vocations, was evolving in its understanding of itself), today I experience inner freedom. In spite of, or because of, belonging to a religious community, I have come to some under-standing of myself. I have had the opportunity, through prayer and commitment to spiritual pursuits, to know myself as loved and to realize that my being and the Being of God are the same reality. Some days I am more conscious of this truth than others; some days my own egocentricity obscures it completely. My longing to be one with God drew me to religious life. Frequently I was disillusioned by members of my religious com-munity. Each hurt, each disillusionment, forced me to peel away another layer of a psyche torn between finding its happiness out-side itself in people and things or finding happiness inside itself. It was a bright moment, a moment of light, when a deeper self was realized, a self that found within her the longing of her heart and then began to make peace and love with the external world. That process continues. Religious life helps the process. The same wise woman of my novitiate also quoted the saying about putting one's hand to the plow and not turning back. It is another reason for staying in religious life. It is not a matter of logic or assessment of security needs. Staying in community is a stance of faith. In faith I believe that my original desire found 344 Review for Religious form through religious community. The form might change or dissolve or might mimic all living organisms and go through a disintegration period before being reintegrated in a new form. I wafit to be faithful to my original commitment, which is a com-mitment of right relationship with God, of knowing and discov-eri~ ng the essence of this relationship. The task of all forms, including that of religious life, is to give expression to a deeper reality. The reality of God is beyond form. The place of faith is standing with others, community members and friends, and fac-ing together the deeper reality and not being overwhelmed as the form does whatever it needs to do. To be companioned in faith and love at this level of reality is to mirror the light, life, and love of a God who is beyond form. When sisters and brothers stand together at this place of faith, we redirect the energies of the world from its obsession with form to the Reality toward which all form is supposed to point. The creative energy of God is what we see reflected in our material universe, but the ultimate call of all human beings is to go beyond ~he reflection to the source who is Life and Being. As groups of religious unite in faith, facing into and sharing in the c~nter who is Love, they acknowledge the interrelatedness of all p~rsons in a communion of being that is beyond form. Perhaps the apparent disintegration experienced by ?eligious com-munities is part of the nec~essary evolution all living organisms go through. Perhaps it is taking us to a deeper experience of real-ity- the Reality beyond form. We, in our age, have evolved to a point where we are con-scious of being conscious. We are teeter-tottering on the edge of a new shift in consciousness. Members of religious communities have made great efforts to join with one another and to remove the psychological and emotional blocks that cause us to see our-selves as separated from each other. We have made great efforts to know ourselves at our deepest level. As we discover this deep-est self, we begin to realize that God "is" the centered self--that we (God-I) ire one. The realization of this oneness is an experi-ence that cannot be contained. It cannot be restrained by the form that is our body or the form that is religious community. As we recognize our being "in" Love, we begin to experience oth-ers no longer as other, no longer as outside ourselves--or sepa-rated from us. This is the beginning of communion consciousness. It is a way of being with each other that is beyond form. May-June 1992 345 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay Why do we stay in religious life? We stay because the form that is religious life is still pointing us to the Reality our hearts have longed to be one with. We stay because our companions have been faithful to us and we want to be faithful to them. We stay because the greatest adventure of all, the awakening of con-sciousness to Reality, is about to happen and religious community can facilitate that awakening. We stay because we recognize love here. We stay because we know God's faithful love and want to respond with love. We stay because the form provides, 'through the experience of community and ministry, relationships of mutual love and sharing. We stay because we refuse to be intimidated by fear and a lack of security. We stay because we have put our hand to the plow and want to fulfill our commitment. We stay because our lives and commitment are about faith. We stay because in community the experience of God as Trinity is being realized and manifested in relationships that are life-giving, loving, and mutual. We stay because our intuition tells us that the experience of com-munion consciousness is about the many discovering themselves as one. We believe that the evolution of religious life is moving us closer to this discovery. We stay because true identity is realized in the discovery of the mutual indwelling of our being in the being of God and others. We stay because we want to witness to the Reality beyond form. Silence I cannot say that I no longer sing for in my heart, the while my lips are dumb, my song I keep. I only know that words no longer come to break the silent singing of a thing that lies too deep. Florian Reichert SSJ 346 Review for Religious MELANNIE SVOBODA When a Sister or Brother Leaves All of us in religious life have seen some of our brothers and sisters leave our communities even after many years. The circumstances leading to such a decision are usually complex and unique to each individual. But one fact is simple and universal: a person's decision to leave religious life has an impact on those who "decide to stay." The stronger the ties that bind us together in a religious community, the greater the pain and con-fusion when such bonds are, for all practical purposes, severed. This article explores some of the pain and confusion sur-rounding one sister's leaving. "Sue" (as I call her) is not a "real" sister, nor are these direct quotes from my own "real" journal. Such a reflection would be too personal for me to publish at this time. It would also run the risk of violating the privacy of a par-ticular individual's decision to leave religious life. Sue is rather, a composite of a number of i'eal people who have left my commu-nity and other communities as well. And though this account is fiction in the technical sense, it is nonetheless, I trust,-very true. It is my ho~e that these reflections will resonate with the thoughts and feelings of o~hers who have experienced a friend's departure from religious life. She tells me, "I'm leaving." And she wants me to be one of the first to know, before "it's announced." I sit in silence and disbe- Melannie Svoboda SND, a regular contributor to Review for Religious, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. May-j~ne 1992 347 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Something is terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I cannot remember who. lief in the front seat of the car. For a few moments I can say and do nothing. I am not surprised. Not really. Hasn't she been sharing her struggles with me these past three years? Didn't I suspect even a year ago that her searching and questioning would eventually lead to this: the decision to go? No, I am not surprised. But I am numbed. At least momentarily. Finally I say, "Are you sure?" And in the dim light of the car I see her nod and pull out a tissue, and I know she is crying. I reach over to her-- awkwardly over the gear shift and try to comfort her. I say her name a few times, and then I start to cry, too. For several moments we sit like that--me with my arm around her shoulder. No words. Just the sound of our soft crying. After a few moments we both sit up straight and blow our noses. In unison. We laugh at that and the laughter frees us to talk. Unhaltingly, she tells me of her most recent talks with her spiritual director, of her meeting with our provincial, and of her plans to tell her fam-ily. Everything seems decided. Everything is in place. She will leave in two months--on July 1. One day short of the twenty-eighth anniversary of her entrance into religious life. Of our entrance. I try to listen to everything she is telling me, but my mind is still stuck back there on her first two words, "I'm leaving." At the end I cry some more. I feel her hand gently on my back. I say, "I'm sorry, Sue." She thinks I mean for my tears. But I don't. "It's okay, Melannie. It's okay." But I am thinking: It is not okay. Nothing is okay. And, I fear, nothing will ever be okay again. When I wake up in the morning, I sense: something is wrong. Terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I can-not remember who. I turn on the light. My eyes wince from the assault of its brightness. As my head falls back onto the pillow, "it" hits me: of course, she is leaving. How could I forget? As I slowly crawl out of bed, I feel sick to my stomach. And I know it's 348 Review for Religious not something I ate, it's not the flu. It's the thought of her going away. Later this morning she calls to ask me how I am. She asking me! I say, "Okay. How about you?" And we talk a little more. But before she hangs up she says, "You know, you cried the most. Of everyone I have told so far, you cried the most." And then she adds, "Thanks." Thanks? For what? For loving you? I go to school and I am the cheerful, competent, organized teacher you read about in all the educational journals. But it is all a sham. Inside I am dying--only no one knows. Her leaving is an oppressive burden I bear alone--for now--in secret. But maybe that is good, I think. For as long as nobody else knows about it yet, her leaving has an aura of unreality about it--which eases the pain a little. For now. o~o o~o o~o o:o I have known her for over thirty years--since we were fresh-men in high school. We sat next to each other in homeroom that year, and I liked her from the very start. She was cute, funny, lively, and (above all) good. Although we were typical teenage girls back then, we were somehow comfortable with bringing God into our more serious conversations. We were both terribly idealistic back then. My idealism nour-ished hers and hers mine. Although we made the decision to enter religious life independently of each other, we obviously influ-enced each other greatly. One month after graduating from high school, at age eighteen, the two of us entered the novitiate of the Sisters of Notre Dame--together. I decide I am taking this whole thing too morosely. I tell myself: "So, what's the big deal, anyway? You are acting as if she has died or something. That's stupid! So, a friend decides to leave religious life. So what? People make big changes in their lives all the time. "So, she is leaving. Don't make it soUnd so awful. Gone are the years when we called such departures 'defections.' Do not try to figure out her decision. Do not try to understand it. Accept it. May-~une 1992 349 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Accept her. Stop moping. She's leaving. But life will go on--for her, for you." And just when such logic makes such good sense to me and I resolve to accept her decision with greater equanimity, she calls me on the phone and, after talking to her for an hour and hang-ing up, I cry again. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. I talk,to Bob about her. He listens with concern and com-passion- as usual. He asks me all kinds of questions--about her, about me, about our relationship. And it is as if a dam has been broken wide open, and my words come gushing out like water. And I talk and talk. And in the talking I suddenly real-ize: I am celebrating her. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. And it feels good. Then I tell him of my concerns for her, my fears. He listens attentively, gen-tly prodding with a question every now and then. And I am grateful, so grateful for this man who can elicit such an out-pouring from me and who is so respectful of everything I tell him. Finally he says, "You love her very much." A simple statement of fact. And I nod and smile at its obvi-ousness, and then I cry a little more and laugh, too. And later he asks, "Have you taken all of this to the Lord, Melannie?" And I stumble over my words, knowing I have not. At least not nearly enough. I tell Bob: "I keep thinking, 'God, if I love her this much, how much more you must love her.'" "That's good," he says. "That's good." And I leave Bob with a lighter heart and a clearer appreciation of my love for her-- and of my pain. And I wonder: When will I take all of this to God? Soon, I think. But not yet. I am worried about her. She is looking for a job now. She is talking about salary and taxes and insurance and getting an apart-ment. Almost all of our conversations these days are about her-- her and her plans. 350 Review for Religious It bothers me a little. Why? Do I feel left out? (I have plans, too!) Or is it that I want our relationship to return to an earlier form, to a time when our plans tended to coincide more? Whatever, I suggest to her: "The next time we get together, let's do something. Like go bowling or even to the zoo or some-thing, okay?" She says okay. I am relieved, for I am tired of talking about her, about "it." But as soon as I admit this to myself, I feel small and selfish. I do not understand her reasons for leaving. They are deep and go back many, many years. She still believes in religious life, she tells me. She still loves our community. And yet leaving us is something she feels she has to do. I do not understand, but I believe she has to do this. That belief makes her going easier for me to accept. o~o o~o o~o o.'o I loved her before we were Sisters of Notre Dame. I will con-tinue to love her afterwards, too. Yet I sense (and so does she) that there will be a change in our friendship--a significant change. After all, our shared commitment in the same religious commu-nity has been a vital part of our friendship. With that pai't gong, we are both wondering: How much wili our friendship be altered? And will the two of us be up to such an alteration? These past few days have been "guilt days." I keep thinking: Did I, as a friend, fail her? Is that why she is leaving? Maybe there is something I could have done that would have prevented her from making this decision. Maj'be .I could have been more sensi-tive, more caring, more supportive, more . Or did we as a religious community let her down? Is there something we as a community should be doing to prevent all these departures? Maybe we are overworked. Maybe we are focusing too much on ministry and not enough on each other. Maybe we are living the life all wrong.-Maybe., maybe., maybe. Bob says,"Youwomen really do get emotionally involved in each other~ lives." May-.~une 1992 351 Svobodu ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves I ask, "Don't you men feel like this when a brother leaves your .community?" "No," he says, "with us it is different. I do not think we feel it nearly as much as you women do." If what Bob says is true in men's communities, there is a part of me that envies men. But, then again, there is a part of me that feels sorry for them. Peg calls. She knows now, too. Finally someone in the com-munity I can talk to about it. "What do you think?" she asks me. And I tell her what I think. Then she shares with me her feel-ings. She is hurt. She is angry. She is worried about Sue. And now there is an added dimension to my own pain: seeing the pain Sue's leaying is having on others like Peg. But it is Peg's anger that takes me aback. So far I have not felt any anger, have I? Only hurt. Only worry. But now I wonder: Am I denying my anger? Am I letting Sue leave us too easily? Should I be fighting more to make her stay? Is my acceptance of her decision my way of lessening my own pain? Of easing my anger? I do not know what to think anymore. At the break at the meeting, Carol grabs me by the arm and pulls me out into the hall. "What's with Sue?" she asks brusquely. Not sure how much she already knows, I ask, "What do you mean?" Immediately I sense her irritation: (She has ne;cer been known for patience--or gentleness.) "Okay, Melannie, you can spare me the gory details. I know she is leaving. All I want to know is: Is she going to be okay?" I nod. "Yes, she is going to be okay." Carol seems satisfied--with that tiny scrap of information. I am amazed at how little it takes to appease hei', how little she wants to know. But maybe I am reading her wrong. Maybe she is just being extremely respectful of Sue's privacy. Whatever, she walks back into the meeting seemingly content. It was announced today. In a letter from the provincial. One brief paragraph. (Over twenty-five years of living religious life, and one short paragraph to tell the community of your leaving.) She 352 Review for Religious has asked for a leave "for personal reasons." Let us "remember her in our prayers," and so forth. How many times have I read such announcements? You would think I'd have gotten used to them by now. But I never have. I hope I never will. When I get the letter and read it, I cry again. How strange. I have not cried in weeks about "it." Why now? Then I realize: the announcement finalizes "it." There is no denying her leaving now, no turning back. It is a fact. And every sister in the community knows it now, too. o:o o:. o~o .:o Mary meets me in the hall, and I can tell by her eyes what she is going to say before she says it. "I just read the announcement about Sue, Melannie," she says softly. "And--and I guess I just want you to know: I am praying for her--and for you. I know it must be hard." She puts her hand on my shoulder. I smile. I say, "Thanks, Mary. Thanks." But two people are struggling inside of me. One is saying, "Yes, comfort me! Please comfort me!" while the other one is screaming, "Go away! I do not want your pity! Go away!" So, she is gone. Officially. Not completely, of course. She is still "connected" to us, for the church does not ordinarily permit a quick egress from religious life. Rather, it encourages a gradual one. She is still one of us, although living in an apartment now and working on her own. She will stay in touch with "us" by her contact with the provincial, with one of our local communities, and with a few of us, her closest friends. I tell myself, "She might come back. Some do, you know-- after doing what they have to do or whatever . " But I know in my heart: hardly anyone ever does. I call Sue. It has been weeks since we talked. The spaces between our conversations and meetings are getting wider, I notice. She is upset because she feels her leaving has hurt so many sisters. She knows some are angry with her. She says, "Why can't they see that my leaving is not an indictment against religious May-June 1992 353 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves life or their decision to stay? Why can't they just accept my deci-sion?" I say something like, "Well, maybe you have to give them more time, Sue. After all, you took years to make your decision. Now give them time to work through accepting it." I see Bob ~again. He asks about Sue. "Have you begun to deal with what effect her leaving is having on you personally--and your own commitment?" "Not really," I say. "I think I am still wallowing in the pain of losing her. And I am still too worried about her to think too much about myself. And I am so busy, too." ("Mercifully busy," I think to myself.) He listtns attentively and then says, "That's okay--for now. But it will come, you know. Sooner or later. You will have to deal with it: your own decision to stay." I know he is right. At the community meetings this week, I miss her very much. I expect to see her in the hall, to have lunch with her, to laugh with her. Only she is not there. Afterwards I call and talk to her, but I do not know how much of these community meetings to share with her, how much she wants to hear about what "we" are doing. And I sense I am beginning to see her as no longer a part of that "we." If only she were more sure of herself. If only I saw more direc-tion in her life, more certitude. But she still seems so direction-less, biding her time with this temporary job, still searching for who knows what. Everyone asks me, "How is Sue doing?" And I never know how to respond. If I say, "Fine," that is a lie. She is not fine. She is confused, lonely, and struggling. But if I say, "She i~ having a really hard time right now," that is misleading, too. It makes it sound as if she has made a mistake in leaving us. So, not knowing how to respond to their inquiries, I usually end up saying, "She is okay--but it is hard, you know." And my 354 Review for Religious voice trails off, and I think I have communicated the truth as well as it can be communicated. I love her. I care about her. I miss her. That is all I am trying to say, God. These jottings are perhaps too focused upon me and not enough upon her. But I entrust even that to your love as I try to entrust all things--especially Sue. She leaves. I stay. Why? Forever I have never lived in forever. ? where love is always and night never comes. Tonight, as I crawl into the arms of your Love, God, the idea of lasting forever causes a shudder thru my being. I have never known forever. ? here, everything ends. Day ends when night comes. and Yesterday is different from Today or Tomorrow. Here nothing is always the same. As I lie here thinking of your Love that lasts forever, two pains f!ll my being-- fear and desire, because I who had a beginning will join You in life unending. I have never known forever. ? Vowed to You, I promise to persevere unto death. Should I not say, ". into life"? Claire Mahaney RSCJ May-j~une 1992 355 BRIAN B. MC CLORRY The Integral Sabbatical transitions I woke very early on a June morning, restfully uncertain where I was and so checked the surrounds with interest, coffee and cigarette in hand, looking for a sound, geo-graphical answer. The sunlight was bright, the landscape clear: Holman Island, Northwest Territories, Canada, some three hundred miles inside the arctic circle. The third and final part of my sabbatical had begun. Holman seemed a far cry from the Jesuit Renewal Center in Milford, Ohio, where the sabbatical had started, a far cry from Cambridge, Massachusetts, where I had spent a semester at the Weston School of Theology. It was all a far cry from Leeds, England, where I had been Catholic chap-lain for the University and Polytechnic. Both in Cambridge and Milford I had been mildly surprised at the number of people, mainly religious, who were also on sabbatical. No doubt there is a tendency for sabbatical people to frequent the same watering holes when they are not wandering the earth visiting their con-gregation's communities. Sabbaticals are now common among religious, and in the religious press sabbatical pro-grams are widely advertised. The sabbatical now seems to be an unexceptional part of religious life in much the same way that, for some congregations, the tertianship--a kind of compulsory spiritual sabbatical--is an integral part of formation. This is clearly a new development. Brian B. McClorry SJ writes from Manresa House; 10 Albert Road; Harborne; Birmingham B 17 0AN; England. 356 Review for Religious In the 1960s sabbaticals were primarily a way of dealing with problem people or people with problems. It was, of course, a moot point whether the problem belonged to the persons involved or to their congregations. These sabbaticals were, in part, ways of responding to developments which were unforeseen, confusing, and frequently unwelcome. Sometimes they were mainly thera-peutic or disciplinary. There is likely to be a healing element in many sabbaticals, but it is right to allow sabbaticals a valid exis-tence on the far side of therapy. Recently the sabbatical has been reintroduced as a disciplinary measure by congregations and Roman authorities in an attempt to save an order or an ortho-doxy felt to be imperiled. Again the question remains whether it is the person or the institution that stands in need of a sabbatical. This, however, is not a question I will discuss here. There were and are "problem," "therapeutic," and "disciplinary" sabbaticals as ' well as those associated with academic work. But none of these is unexceptional and integral to religious life. The integral sabbat-ical, however, is new. Of course it may well be asked how integral to religious life sabbaticals really are, even at a more or less empirical level. Neither all congregations nor all religious make use of them. Indeed, when taken, not all sabbaticals are greeted in a sufficiently sabbatical fashion. There is the itch to justify or to decry, a ten-dency to view sabbaticals as a reward, or a vacation, or as a debt to be paid. That there are many kinds of response to the statement "I am on sabbatical . . ." is sufficient reason for discussion. Moreover, if religious make widespread use of sabbaticals, the diocesan clergy in the main do not. There are regional and denominational variations. Sabbaticals are commoner among diocesan priests in the United States than in England; the Methodist Church in England has a policy and a provision for sabbaticals whereas Roman Catholic dioceses in England do not-- except in a very negative sense. The questions raised both by sab-baticals and their absence are of widespread interest. In what follows I will try to examine way~ of understanding the "integral" sabbatical, using my sabbatical experience as a kind of case study. This approach inevitably will be limited, but not inevitably limiting. There are no absolute anecdotes: individual cases are also part of our social, cultural, economic, and religious history. Most serious questions will be left decently unanswered on the ground that closure is ordinarily premature. May-d~une 1992 357 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical Timing and Validation One clear and important element in evaluating and preparing for sabbaticals is timing. Scriptural tradition designates every sev-enth year as a sabbatical year. The British province of the Society of Jesus provides for h sabbatical ten years after tertianship. Having a policy, provided it is not applied woodenly, allows indi-viduals to have and to plan for sabbaticals. It also allows the con-gregation to suggest them more easily. It is at the level of policy that the question of justifying sabbaticals emerges with particular force. Are sabbaticals.justifiable? As with many questions, this one is best approached not directly, but through the categories which are found helpful in discovering the kind of thing a sabbatical might be. There are, of course, lines of thought in the scriptural tradition. Originally the intention behind the sabbatical year was to give rest to the land, the vineyard, and the olive grove. This rest would give the poor and the wild animals a chance to eat (Ex 23:10-11) and allow debts to be remitted (Lv 15:2). There would be no scarcity, for the "sabbath of the land" itself would provide enough food (Lv 2 5:6). The help given to the poor was not to be confined to the sab-bath year (Dt 15:9), for this sabbatical value was of permanent importance and validity. What is involved here is a careful knowl-edge of the land, plants, and animals--and the perception that the workings of the economy both damage these and do violence to the community. People are squeezed out and forced into the powerlessness of debt. The sabbatical year is a piece of positive discrimination and a recall to the tru~ values and creative origins of the community. Parallels are problematic, but it may make sense to view the contemporary sabbatical in these terms rather than as intrapersonal refurbishing or as an opportunity for gain-ing skills or knowledge. To leave for a time the work we do may well benefit that work (there will be, it seems, no shortages), and both the work and the workers may recover their creative ori-gins. We may begin once more to perceive whfit is demanded and who is excluded both in our work and in our societies. In this sense a sabbatical may be an effective symbol of grace and faith, of justice and peace. The link between "sabbatical" and "sabbath" is obvious. Whether or not this is the beginning of a line of thought in favor of the "integral" sabbatical, the question of timing remains. Timing is not simply a matter of administrative convenience or 358 Review for Religious possibility, nor is it only a question of calendars, frequency, and opportunity. Some years ago I had a particularly trying period of ministry in a poor inner-city area. The ministry failed. The team failed to work together--a failure in which I was implicated deeply. Eventually the project was closed. I was hurt, angry, and had come to the end of the road. The off-road terrain was hardly visible. I scarcely believed I had energy enough left to start afresh any-where and so began to dally with the seductive idea of a sabbati-cal and its promise of escape. Fortunately my provincial suggested that I return to university chaplaincy work--a ministry I had known and liked. To my surprise I agreed quickly and easily and, in the event, found to my delight that the energy and interest were still there. The work therapy worked. After four years, how-ever, it became clear that my old and easy patience with under-graduates was wearing thin, that I wanted to spend my time with faculty, ecumenical questions, and issues affecting the institutions themselves rather than with students. It was not the end of the road, just time to go. Then the idea of a sabbatical reemerged, tinged with excitement, less seductive but more promising. The sabbatical promised to be less therapeutic or escapist than it would have been if taken earlier. It would be more positive, an affair of discovery. Sabbaticals are "integral" in more ways than one: they are better timed the more they are at one with the positive move-ments of our life stories and not just snagged on fragment.s of these narratives. Better timing, it seems, might also lead to a bet-ter content. Content and Desire Academics on sabbatical might well do research, though many academics speak of sabbaticals in terms not reducible to academic research. Nonacademics also might want to do research, to con-template steadily or ferret away busily in some area which comes into view as life-giving, deeply interesting, part of the emerging oudines of a mysterious but attractive future. On occasion it makes sense to learn skills that can be put to determinate use. Sometimes it is better to do woodwork. Clearly the content of a sabbatical varies indefinitely and could even include the possibility of a care-fully mixed cocktail. I wanted to have time, space, and the right environment for reading and writing. So much was a felt need. I also wanted to follow a program in spiritual direction. For many May-June 1992 359 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical years I had given one or two directed retreats a year and won-dered what, if anything, I had learned from the experience and what, if anything, I imagined I was doing in this ministry. It seemed that retreat work of some kind was a likely future. For me woodwork was not a serious contender--although I can almost smell the i:eel of the grain. Behind the question of content--what, after all, shall I do?- there is the matter of imaginati6n and desire. What do I really desire? How free or frozen is the imagination that shapes our conscious desires? What are the desires that might free or freeze our imaginations? It does not do to link desire solely with what is conventionally good, for there is more to good than convention supposes. It does not do to mold imagination only by pi'agmatic realism, for realism can imprison as well as free our imaginations. Desire is a matter of discovery and strange meetings: a geography of uncertainty and power. Maps for desire do not exist, for it is a contemplative heuristic, a medium in which mystery is disclosed. It is not, however, an infallible heuristic. A year before he died, a friend who had many desires told me, "I have never known what I really wanted to do." Desir~ is not exhausted in the desires we know we have. In Genesis the naming of animals is, in a strange and unfem-inist narrative, part of a search that culminates in the joyful, real-ized completion of creation. God brings the animals to the man to see what he would call them (Gn 2:19). To stay long enough in prayer so that completing the sentence "I want." is done iri God's presence is to begin to name those elements of ourselves and our world which God brings to us for naming. We may name what is incomplete or destructive in us, or what lacks integration in our lives. In this naming w~ may be set free of what possesses Us, an exorcism in which the demons, if they return, have no real power. We are freed from d~fensiveness and become less timid. Alternatively, we may find that we name our positive desires and find in this naming that the truth of our seeking and welcoming is revealed. In both cases the disclosure of the God who, in Christ, dream~ with us brings with it freshness and discovery. The con-tent of a sabbatical, however practical or impractical it may be, is also to be discovered, found out, stumbled across, given. The content of a sabbatical should resonate with or express the desires we discover in us, desires which at the same time help us find out what a sabbatical--or a life--might be like. 360 Review for Religious Even though my imagination was thin, my desires were real enough: an intern.ship in spiritu, al direction at Milford and a semester of reading at Weston. I felt there was much to be dis-covered in the course of these programs that would be enjoyable and useful. I did not envisage any discoveries jolting my paradigms. At Weston I would go on a light diet and look for space. There were, however, some four months of the sabbatical which were as yet undetermined. The "third world" was not a strong contender. I had recently spent a hard but exhilarating summer in Guyana and, years before, had done my tertianship in India. A journey to Zimbabwe or to South Africa always remained a possibility. Whatever the status of my gawky ratio-nalizing, the truth was that I had no particular desire to go to the third world. I found I wanted to go to northern Canada. The experience would be new, which is one value in sabbatical planning; but it was the desire to go, rather than arbitrary novelty, that mattered. Certainly I wanted to be far from known places and defined expectations; there was the lure of the north with its sparse and spacious environment and its rather specialized attractions of ice and snow. That world would have a different scent: snow alters aromas. The Canadian north had always been attractive to me, and once or twice I had sniffed at its fringes. But although the desire to go was clear, its rationale was elusive, mysterious. It had to do, I thought, with going to a large, remote, and cold place in order, paradoxically, to unfreeze my imagination and creativity. The north was the right environment for that kind of event, in some sense the necessary place. Moreover, there was the remote but dramatic possibility of spending time in the Canadian arctic. I liked the dramatic frisson, expected something to "happen," and found that the prospect enhanced the attractiveness of the sab-batical as a whole. It gave a sharp edge to the enterprise and I looked forward to that edge. I got out maps and wrote to bishops. The desire had emerged and persisted. The provincial concurred; the bishops in the north agreed. So much for the discernment. I write, of course, after the event--with the heightened accu-racy and inaccurate overclarity which marks retrospectives. Sometimes, however, the content of a sabbatical is found largely Sometimes the content of a sabbatical is found largely in retrospect. May-3~ne 1992 361 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in retrospect. Characteristically I planned my sabbatical carefully. I was not going to drift into a sabbatical and discover afterwards that a sabbatical is what I might have had. My time would be spent well, responsibly, even originally. But planning has its times and seasons, and for many "planning" and "exploration" are hyper-active metaphors better replaced by "contemplation" and "wait-ing." A friend of mine spent the first three months of a sabbatical year waiting to see what he wanted to do; another spent some months after his sabbatical finding out what he had done and what his desires had been. It seems that the justification of sab-baticals and their content lies in the mysterious priority of desire and imagination rather than in efficient planning and declared good intentions. There is some need for discernment of desire and imagination, for neither whim nor designer image is a suffi-cient guide. Conventionally, the value of a sabbatical rests on enhanced skills, published research, a revitalized person. The generous mea-sure of truth in these pictures--which do express something of our desires--should not obscure another dimension. Sabbaticals are in some respects like parables.~ Jesus' parables carry many meanings and so have a capacity to interact in many and new ways with our lives and cultures, Sometimes the parables break under their own realism--ninety-nine sheep are left unprotected in the course of the search for the one which is lost. The parables both disjoint our ways of looking at and being in the world and open up new and energetic possibilities. On this basis it is mean-minded to settle effectivelyon one allowed description of a sabbatical, for example, "study leave." What matters is that sabbaticals are allowed to become parables, polyvalent narratives whose realism does not determine the story. Milford and Cambridge It is a commonplace that programs in spiritual direction include much "listening." Accurate, active, contemplative, prophetic, and holistic listening--with individuals and in a group--are all elements in a conversation. They are ways of dis-covering what may be going on in prayer or life--ways of finding a path that fits and may.lead somewhere. No doubt I learned and relearned some skills at Milford and welcomed the lines of inquiry and interest which these engendered. Such learning, however, is 362 Review for Religious notoriously not neutral or unaffecting. Listeners listen also to themselves; and, when they become conscious or aware of what they hear, there is the possibility and gift of a transformation which is not reducible to the addition of skill to skill. So I found, in a time of surprise, a change in me which was about trusting and expecting more from God. The coloration of my world shifted, its shape altered. The world I stepped into was a friendly place and the friend-liness was to be trusted. This perceived feature of the world was not a purely intrapersonal shift. Nor was it entirely an empirical affair. My father moved from house to hospital and from hospi-tal to a retirement home with his memory impaired. I returned to England for a few weeks to help the moves and to sell the house. The Gulf War started unbelievably and ended with unseeing cel-ebrations. Ten feet from me in a bus in Boston a man was shot in the face on Good Friday. But the world was friendly because God was in the world and the world was in God. This discovery did not invite me to rush into developing a theodicy or to reread the old ones, to put together friendliness and unfriendliness. If there was a theodicy, it would be rooted in, among other things, a complex attentiveness to the world, which was in God, and to God, who was in the world. Both the friendliness and the unfriendliness of the world called forth the look of friendly regard. This, the grace-ful face of panentheism, seemed new--a well-remembered face seen as if for the first time. This friendliness connected with specific matters in spiritual direction. In the language of Ignatius's Spiritual Exera'ses, I became better able to trust "consolation" both in myself and in retreatants. God, after all, relates to consolation and desolation in different ways. The relationship to desolation is real but entirely provi-sional; what characterizes God's action is consolation. In this friendliness it also became possible to sit happily with my igno-rance when giving spiritual direction. "Not knowing" was nei-ther a fearful void to be filled nor an affront to be denied. It was not an affront to competence but a resource to be tapped. To sit with ignorance was to be in danger of finding out, with the part-ner in the conversation, what good thing was happening, what shape hope might take. Such changes in ways of looking at and being in the world are at one with the Old Testament tradition on sabbaticals: a recovery of creative origins. They may happen in the staid, sup- May-d~une 1992 363 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical portive, and challenging world of the Jesuit Renewal Center-- although Milford, Ohio, is not a location which of itself provokes radical insight. (Sometimes it seemed that many areas of our planet are invisible from Ohio.) But changes may also require places or environments which are marginal or shocking. A friend of mine spent most of his sabbatical working in a refugee camp in Thailand. What can be hoped for, wherever we go, is that changes include but are not restricted to intrapersonal health and survival. They will also include the world in which we ordinarily live but have only partly discovered. We may also hope to accept and to find that we do not control the narrative of the sabbatical--nor does the institution or environment in which we find ourselves. Such hoped-for changes, as in the Old Testament tradition, do not need to be confined to the time of a sabbatical, but can have a more permanent validity. With some loss of narrative control, I spent a few weeks in Montreal and Quebec City writing fiction (short stories in which I struggled with and for the narrative) before descending on Cambridge, Massachusetts. The semester at Weston was to be reflective: a few seminars for social reasons and an amount of reading. There was much to delight in, from Erich Auerbach's Mimesis to Annie Dillard's Teaching a Stone to Talk. The reading mattered. Someone said that Annie Dillard's writing evidenced "an amoral hospitality to experience." What price could the dis-cernment of spirits fetch here? Auerbach's literary criticism dis-tinguished a high style, quite divorced from the ordinary life of undistinguished people, from a style, also high, which found won-drous significance in commonplace lives and circumstances. If Milford was about trusting God in a world in which consolation and friendliness were to be trusted, Cambridge was about doing that in the ordinary present--the place where true hospitality lies. For some periods of time I had felt (often with good reasons) that there were important things to be done which were not real-izable in the job I had, the place I was in, the circumstances in which I found myself. Matters were unsatisfactory. Something of this feeling is, perhaps, an occasional inevitability. Life is unsat-isfactory in different ways and at a variety of levels. But a gap can open between the present and the significant future which robs both of any real value. Of a character in Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep, the narrator says, "He was looking over into the next val- 364 Review for Religious ley all the time. He wasn't scarcely around where he was." The gap, of course, is about faith as well as presence. There can be a belief in a "god within" who does not welcome the present and a belief in a "god without"--usually absent from the present--in whose future greatness is promised. These two gods are awkward little idols who are not on speaking terms, but who conspire to augment the discomfort of the believer. In the disappearance of the gap between the present and the significant future, there is the loss of two idols, of two gods, and a being found by the one God. Monotheism turned out to be a very powerful affair. The disappearance of the gap, the exiling of the idols, helped me to let go of some things I would never do, however grand the significant future and the pointed present. This was not asceticism or realism, that doubtful consoler. In friendliness and free from the idols, I found there was no need to package myself, to tie up in well-wrapped parcels who I am and what I do. I become pack-aged for reasons of defense and success. But these energy-con-suming activities turned out to be not only harmful but also, and more importantly, unnecessary. The fears that provoked packag-ing became heavily relativized. John Macmurray has a striking remark about fear: The maxim of illusory religion runs: "Fear not; trust in God and he will see that none of the things you fear will happen to you"; that of real religion, on the contrary, is "Fear not; the things that you are afraid of are quite likely to happen to you, but they are nothing to be afraid of.''2 There may well be matters about which it is right and proper to be afraid, but the fear that provokes packaging turns out to be wonderfully otiose. What emerged in Cambridge and had been emerging in Milford was a new sense of integration or fit, not only in me but in how I am present in the world. I preferfit, with its sense of a curve fitting spot readings, a trail in the wilderness which finds the nature of the landscape, a saying in a conversation which res-onates and reveals. "Integration" is a touch static and inward. The appearance of the fit had precisely the quality of exploration and discovery--exploration within and, at one with that, explo-ration of the world. A man lies bleeding in the aisle of the bus, sol-diers pray for peace as the Gulf War ultimatum runs out, people have the glow and the shock of the Holy Spirit on their faces, the books are in the library, the seminar sparkles, and the cold May-June 1992 365 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in Quebec City gnaws the bones by the frozen St. Lawrence out-side the first Jesuit house in Canada. In all of this idols vanish, the world has a new curvature, and God dreams and surprises. Sabbaticals are times for heralded and unheralded exploration and discovery. These are prime sabbatical hopes and valid extrasabbatical values. Going to northern Canada, to the remote places, seemed like an appropriate continuation of this journey. It had also the character of a celebration. Yukon and Northwest Territories From one point of view, I went north in order to "supply" in parishes and on mission stations. It would be a time of much trav-eling and short stays. As the sabbatical proceeded and the time for departure drew closer, I found that what I wanted was simply to be in the here and now, in that environment, with those people. To be present in a friendly, contemplative, unpackaged, and reflec-tive fashion was what mattered. I did not want to undertake a study tour or become a tourist. Nor did I want to stay in one place "working" or creating a proactive availability. For this period, rootedness was not a value. Staying wherever the bish-ops3 suggested would keep me free of programs, encourage a being present which had little predetermined character--and yet would allow me to give myself and others a ready and real account of what I was doing and why I was there. Performing a small ser-vice was a satisfactory blessing and a gift I needed. I also wanted to look at the landscape and to see what hap-pened when I looked. The environment, I thought, would announce itself in ways which could not be honored simply by going for a walk. From this viewpoint people were secondary, but there is an environmental dimension inseparable from human life and it seemed that the native people would be at one with their environment. That people were secondary in my immediate inter-ests was not a dismissive attitude. So I looked at the landscape-- from the ground and from the air in light planes. In Yukon Territory it turned out to be difficult to look steadily at the moun-tains, valleys, lakes. What was there remained veiled by a prodi-gal facticity, and I had to set myself repeatedly not to turn aside. To sit' with this ignorance was also difficult. "This coast is too beautiful," said a man in the Vancouver airport to a friend; "get me another beer." Eventually the season of looking (after winter 366 Review for Religioto and before summer) itself turned out to be curiously privileged. The mountains disclosed more of themselves when their features were picked out by a light snow cover than when blanketed by heavy snow, or as free of snow as they might be in the late sum-mer. All seasons are privileged and so--also and therefore--was this present time. Eventually it became possible to see shapes, colors, and variations--to pick out the crude outlines of the geol-ogy. At what seemed an infinite cost, it became possible to look steadily. The startling landscape and harsh climate provoked ques-tions. Although the land is beautiful, some of the "southerners" who have come to stay cannot tolerate the winter isolation and depression. The land is wonderful and the energy people expend relates them closely to the environment; but mining marks the landscape. The slag heap grows huge in the middle of the valley by the mine in Cassiar; the tailings continue to mark the Klondike. But in Elsa, a ghost mining town, there is no human activity. The trees, lynx, and martin--the original inhabitants--are beginning to reclaim their territory. To what does this expenditure of energy and ingenuity relate? Sometimes--often--the energy is not expended. Without employment the choices seem to be contem-plation, alcoholism, activism, or hibernation. But the southerners who come and stay--or who return with regularity--seem to be larger and more significant than I imagine they would be if they had remained "outside." It is as if the landscape gives them value and importance or allows their significanFe to emerge and flour-ish. Some come north for a time of healing or to step away from unaccommodating circumstances; others are on the run and bring their pursuers with them. At best there is more than eccentricity and escapism. Lives are lived with old values brought from the south which are given room and enhancement by the land; new values are recognized and welcomed in small towns in the moun-tain wilderness. Strong views coexist with tolerance, showing a respect for people similar to the necessary respect for the climate. At times there is scant respect for environmentalists, who are seen to have a relationship with the country and the animals which is thin and unreal compared to that of miners, hunters, and trappers. Yet downstream from Whitehorse the waters are polluted. The pollution amazes: the Yukon, though twice the area of the United Kingdom, has a population of only about thirty thousand. Despite the invitation and the rewards, I found it difficult to May-~t~une 1992 367 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical sit, to be, to contemplate, and see. My head, eyes, and feet were always in danger of being drawn away toward the future or toward present effectiveness. There was the ridiculous itch to justify how I spent my time here, in one of the most privileged environments on earth. To look, to appreciate and hear, were not more impor-tant but, rather, prior necessities. So much, it appeared, would be true for me also in the United Kingdom. There, too, I would need to discover how to look and listen. Eventually these dis-tracting energies, these pieces of unbelief, became insubstantial. Sitting in the dust--the gold dust--of Dawson acquired power. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. Surf scoters! This identifying and naming were not violently dismissive (a "that's that and what next?" attitude) but allowed what I saw to become part of the public world, made it shareable and so part of a communal promise. In some places the forests were thin. It was possible to move through them without following a trail or struggling through the undergrowth and fallen trees. Twice the bright' bark of the birch trees seemed to give light. The forest was lit from within: an event as unexpected and as usual as a fox crossing the road. I left the Yukon for the Northwest Territories. The flight from Whitehorse to Yellowknife exchanged vertical country for a horizontal landscape: a flat, flat land. Whitehorse, in mountain-ous country, has few buildings over three stories; Yellowknife, in a terrain that scarcely undulates, is full of high-rise buildings. So do we mark in our architecture our estimates of ourselves and our relationship to the land. The short Yukon spring, when all the trees came out in leaf during one afternoon, also vanished. I flew to Victoria Island, well north of the arctic circle, where there are no trees. It was snowing at Coppermine and Cambridge Bay, the snow flung horizontal by the wind. The frozen bay and the tundra do not make for "beautiful country," but they are exhila-rating: some snow remains and there are occasional, new flowers close to the ground. I see it as keenly and as vividly as the jaguar I saw in a Guyanese village two years ago. The twenty-four-hour sunlight and the intricate flatness of the land, heaved up into flat-topped rock formations near Holman, enliven my tentative pres-ence in these astonishing places. Suddenly the tundra is a place for happiness.4 There is excited wonder at the native people leaving their 368 Review for Religious houses and going to live in "camp" or "on the land" as the win-ter subsides, at the sleds, skidoos, and boats lining the bay and half covered in snow, the profusion of dog lines. There are the inviting enigmas of the snow and ice (color coded like the houses, where the color gives information about origin and ownership), the wreck of Amundsen's Maud. I walk by houses in spaces which are hardly streets, greeting and being greeted, enjoy the camps, am on holy ground. People here do not live "off the land" like Europeans on safari in what became African colonies; they live "on the land." Certainly they do not have "a place in the country." Marie Zarowny, interviewing the Dene and Inuit peo-ple about their political, economic, social, and cultural concerns, found that these were, for the people, inseparable from spirituality: "We are deeply spiritual and our spiritual power comes from the land . Our spirituality is tied in with the animals.''s I found, in this land of the Copper Eskimos,6 a desire for a project, a Gospel activity, and began to sense something of what it might be as I w.alked the tundra, cut inland by the lakes and pancake-topped striated banks, as I prayed in 'the mornings. It is to live and explore the belief that God in Christ is active in the middle of' our creativity and destructive-ness-- and to do so partly in terms of neglected areas of Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. The context for this would be ecumenical. The people involved most likely would be marginal in ecclesiastical and social terms. Maybe something of this could be said in pub-lic language. I imagine a thin book as sharp, bright, and useful as a razor. The idea is not new. What is new is the tangibility given an idea by the land. The book does not itself matter. What counts is the invitation to live and move in this way. So much is a possible event, the gift that is also a product of looking and sit-ting with ignorance, of listening and friendliness. It is frail but real. Cautious at first, a caribou crosses the trail and moves off across the tundra, splashing through the meltwater and covering the bare ground and remaining patches of snow at a determined trot. An arctic hare appears, each hair individual and alive, crouches down ten feet away, and remains still, long-eared, and eye to eye. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. May-June 1992 369 I fly south of the arctic circle to Yellowknife, for two weeks in the parish--weeks full of conversations. Then I go on to Fort Smith, by the Alberta border, for a similar two weeks. It is good to sit by the Rapids of the Drowned on the Slave River watching the pelicans, the birds clearly at home in the spilling and swirling waters. Living "on the land" spoke of ways of living in the United Kingdom. Waiting for the looked-at and walked-over landscape to disclose itself speaks of a wider connectedness, a solidarity. I remember the six Jesuits and two women murdered in E1 Salvador on 16 November 1989. Later I fly north again, north of the cir-cle, to Inuvik. There I wonder once more about space and people: the Northwest Territories are larger than Western Europe and have a population of about 55,000. I do not know what this con-trast might mean or what it is to populate or overpopulate the land. In a short while I will exchange these huge and empty spaces for my own overcrowded little island, where every piece of land seems like an archaeologist's find. Meanwhile there is the Mackenzie delta to see--the delta of the Decho, to use the Dene name--and the small settlement of Arctic Red River to visit. But sabbatical time is running out. When I arrive back in England I will have spent some four months never passing more than two weeks at a stretch in any one place. Afterwards It is usual to say that those who travel undertake an inner journey as well as an outer journey. Covering distance, when the travel is a pilgrimage, is a metaphor for a change of mind and heart. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. Similarly the landscape, the land on which we put our feet and live, is an exterior landscape which affects and is affected by our interior landscape. Barry Lopez, contemplating the "bleak and forsaken" aspect of Pingok Island in the Beaufort Sea, writes: The prejudice we exercise against such landscapes, imag-ining them to be primitive, stark, and pagan, became sharply apparent. It is in a place like this that we would unthinkingly store poisons or test weapons, land like the deserts to which we once banished our heretics and where we once loosed scapegoats with the burden of our transgressions.7 Happiness, however, had been given on the undistinguished tundra. The "land" had become a metaphor, a mnemonic, partly 370 Review for Religious learned and partly obscure, which held attractive promise. This was not distant from the care of the land in the Old Testament sabbatical tradition; it was close, also, to the concern for people and society, for the excluded, which is integral to that tradition. The landscape of Victoria Island and the Decho had reminders, in the oil storage tanks needed for winter warmth, of a different economy, other concerns. The land-scape would also include the cityscape, the interre-latedness and demands of first-world economies. Desire and fear both go into the making of cities and are evoked by the complexity and coloration of their shapes, just as they affect and are evoked by our perception of the land. The city includes and excludes, vivifies and oppresses--and needs as much care in its contemplation as does the tundra in the arctic and the mountains of the Yukon, as much set-ting of ourselves not to turn away. In the city, in our quotidian economies, the invitation is the same: to look steadily, to sit with ignorance, to trust the friendliness, to find, in this also impossible terrain, the outlines of the kingdom as drawn in the few "remembered" words of Jesus. Back in England, in Birmingham, there are vivid memories of smokehouses and camps, mountains and snow, the tundra and the frozen sea, mosquitoes and black flies, the particular people and their traditions. The coffee-lubricated conversations continue to echo. The tundra, I think, was easier to look at than Birmingham. But the tundra invites a fuller regard for my own place, these islands off the coast of Europe, and speaks of new possibilities. The landscape of the Yukon speaks of hoping for what is more and larger than is admitted in other, more usual, locations. Solidarities beckon in a welcoming fashion. A sabbatical is a way of returning to one's own place. The difficulty of all this is clear: "The differ-ing landscapes of the earth are hard to know individually. They are as difficult to engage in conversation as wild animals.''8 Nonetheless, to think of a world without wilderness is to be full of disquiet. For wilderness--living "in the land"--was integral to Milford and Cambridge, and is part and parcel of where I am now and where we all are. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. May-June 1992" 371 Notes ~ In what follows on parables, I am indebted to James Crampsey, "Look at the Birds of the Air ." The Way, 31, no. 4 (October 1991): 286-294. 2 John Macmurray, Persons in Relation (Adantic Highlands, New Jersey; first published by Faber and Faber, London, 1961), p. 171. 3 Thomas Lobsinger OMI, Bishop of Whitehorse, and Denis Croteau OMI, Bishop of Mackenzie-Fort Smith--to whom I am very grateful. The Yukon and Northwest Territories are ordinarily a Jesuit-free zone. 4 A time of happiness, if not frequent, is at least commented on often enough for it to be by no means unique in this kind of terrain. See, for example, P. G. Downes, Seeping Island (Saskatoon: Prairie Books, 1988). The happiness contrasts with, but is not provoked by, the harshness of the country. Imprisoned by "a relentless wind of eight days fury," Downes is told by his partner "You do not 'hope' in this country; you do not hope, you just do the best you can" (p. 63). An explanation is given in a foot-note: "What he means is that 'hoping' is a passive state, and that you must be physically and mentally active in this type of situation." This seems also about right when hoping in God. s Marie Zawowny, "You Can Help Us to Become Strong Inside: Discerning the Direction of the Church with the Dene and the Inuit," Insight: A Resource for Adult Religious Education, no. 4, 1991, National Office of Religious Education, Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops. 6 "Copper Eskimo" was the phrase I heard. Local people do not always use the the more favored general name, Inuit--"the people." A fine account of life with the Inuit of the area is given in Raymond de Coccola and Paul King, The Incredible Eskimo: Life among the Barren Land Eskimo (Hancock House, 1989). The work was first published by Oxford University Press, New York, in the early 1950s under the title Ayorama; the new edition is fuller and uncensored. 7 Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams: Imagination and Desire in a Northern Landscape (Picador, 1987), p. 255. See also the chapter "Landscape and Narrative" in his Crossing Open Ground (New York: Vintage Books, 1989). 8 The continuation of the quotation noted in n. 7 above. 372 Review for Religious PHILIP L. BOROUGHS Using Ignatian Discernment work, ministry, or living arrangements. Diminishing energy, feel-ings of boredom or of being taken for granted, or an emerging desire for new challenges can signal a need to reappraise one's situation. Obviously, these times of transition are unsettling, and they can be stressful as one begins to let go of the security of the familiar and searches for new clarity and direction. However, these periods also can generate new possibilities and a renewed sense of responsibility for one's life. At times such as these, the Serenity Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous seems particularly appropriate: "O God, grant me the courage to change the things that I can change, the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference." Sometimes circumstances warrant a fun-damental change in one's life, while at other times a change of attitude or behavior seems mor4 appropriate. As one critically reviews his or her situation and assesses available options, one wisely might wonder whether there are any norms or principles to help one choose among the options. In the Spiritual Exercises St. Ignatius of Loyola offers a num-ber of principles for discernment which can be extremely useful for those entering into a time of transition. One of the major goals of the Exercises is to assist those who Philip L. Boroughs SJ may be addressed at 621 17th Avenue East; Seattle, Washington 98122. May-June 1992 373 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment undertake them to make the right life choices. The principles of discernment reflect Ignatius's own experience of prayerful decision making, and a brief review of the major transitions in his life will offer a context for his insights. Ignatius's Life On 20 May 1521 Ignatius was wounded in the battle of Pamplona, and in the long recuperation period which followed, a fundamental reorientation of his life began. Over the next sev-eral months, as he contemplated his future, Ignatius became aware of different interior movements affecting him. Gradually he rec-ognized the patterns of these interior movements, noting that certain spirits or desires produced peace and hope while others, which initially delighted him, eventually left him sad and depressed. As a result of these fluctuations, Ignatius decided to fol-low the spirit or direction which ultimately consoled him, and thus his religious quest began in earnest. Abandoning his life as a soldier and courtier, he moved to Manresa and formally commenced a spiritual journey which grad-ually helped him to identify and understand his limits and dis-oriented attachments as well as his deepest dreams and desires. After months of intense prayer and penance, mystical experiences, and interior growth, he embarked on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There he hoped to spend his life visiting the holy places and help-ing souls. However, after he had been in Jerusalem only nineteen days, the Roman Catholic authorities ordered him to leave. The political climate was tense, and they did not want to assume lia-bility for this questionable religious enthusiast. Accepting their legitimate authority over him, Ignatius con-cluded that it must not be God's will that he remain in Jerusalem. He decided that he needed further education if he were to serve God's people in some other capacity. He returned to Spain and began studying grammar at the University of Barcelona. Two years later he advanced to study the humanities at Alcalfi. After many months, however, his austere lifestyle and his growing rep-utation as a lay spiritual director caused such controversy that he was investigated by the Inquisition. Mthough exonerated of any wrongdoing, he was forbidden to continue his spiritual ministry. Consequently he moved to the University of Salamanca. There the same pattern was repeated, and once again he had to revise his 374 Review for Religious plans. Ignatius then transferred to the University of Paris, where he spent the next seven years earning his bachelor's and master's degrees. These were intense years of study and spiritual ministry, and they were also years when he gathered some lifelong com-panions who shared his ideals and his commitment to service. As his formal education drew to a close, Ignatius became seri-ously ill and was advised by his doctors to return to his native country to recuperate. He journeyed home with the understand-ing that he and his companions would reassemble in Venice once he had recovered. From there they hoped to gain passage for Jerusalem, where they would spend the rest of their lives in min-istry. Ignatius and his friends vowed to wait one year in Venice for passage to Jerusalem; but if they could not arrange their trip dur-ing that time because of political turmoil, they would travel to Rome and place themselves at the service of the pope. Since no ships left Venice for Jerusalem that year, they proceeded on to Rome in keeping with their vow. As their reputation for holiness and ministerial effectiveness spread, requests for their services began to arrive from various corners of the world, forcing this rather loose-knit group of friends to consider the nature of their commitment to each other. After weeks of prayerful deliberation, they decided to form a reli-gious community and elected Ignatius to be their religious supe-rior. Although he initially declined the position, subsequent prayer and consultation with his spiritual director moved him to accept. He spent the last fifteen years of his life as the superior general of the nascent Society of Jesus. During this time of rapid growth and development, Ignatius not only provided this new community with inspired leadership, but he also prayerfully drafted its con-stitutions. With the exception of his seven years at Paris and his final years in Rome, Ignatius moved fre.quently throughout his adult life. His constant effort was to discern and follow God's will within the social and historical realities of his time. A!though he was the recipient of many mystical graces, few of them provided him with specific instructions about the decisions he faced. Rather, these mystical experiences confirmed the general direction of his life and God's ongoing companionship with him. Decisions about particular choices he faced required prayer and discernment to discover God's will. Ignatius's early lessons in the discernment of spirits, his respect for human learning and reflectivity, and his May-~Tune 1992 375 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment courage to act once he felt he knew what God wanted of him facilitated his prayerful decision making during the numerous transitions of his life. Predispositions for Discernment Ignatius's religious experience and his Spiritual Exercises sug-gest that, if an individual wishes to enter into a process of dis-cernment in order to discover God's will, certain predispositions are necessary: interior freedom, sufficient knowledge of self and the world, imagination, patience, and the. courage to act respon-sibly. Without these graces, true discernment is not possible. Interior Freedom: The first paragraph of the Spiritual Exercises clearly asserts that interior freedom is a sine qua non for finding God's will: "We call Spiritual Exercises every way of preparing and disposing the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" (SpEx 1). When Ignatius speaks of ridding oneself of inordinate attach-ments, he can be very explicit. In the Meditation on the TWO Standards, he identifies inordinate attachments primarily as temp-tations to riches, honor, and pride (SpEx 142). Today we might describe them as an attachment to possessions or a specific lifestyle, a desire for recognition or a preoccupation with the opinion of others, and an insistence on being in control of one's life or radical self-sufficiency. Ignatius believed that attachments " ~uch as these would so condition one's life that one's relationship with God would be seriously compromised and one's freedom to find God's will would be lost. During times of transition in a person's life, other variations of inordinate attachments also can surface. For example, at the first sign of serious difficulty, some people immediately search for new living or work possibilities, fearful of the asceticism required for long-term commitments. Others, feeling misunder-stood and unvalued, find it easier to cling to chronic anger and bit-terness than to identify and address the source of these feelings and move to a more integrated life. Still others become so com-pletely preoccupied with their own personal growth that they ignore the legitimate needs of those whose lives are intercon-nected with theirs. Whatever form an inordinate attachment takes, 376 Review for Religious it can effectively inhibit the possibility of true discernment because it centers one's life in oneself rather than in God. Knowledge: True spiritual freedom or detachment depends on self-knowledge. More than just an understanding of one's limits or even one's patterns of temptation, self-knowledge requires a pro-found awareness of one's gifts and one's deepest desires. However, during times of transition, individuals frequently say that they do not really know what they want. This is often part of the initial unrest which introduces a need for change. But it also can be an invitation for individuals to reclaim their deepest desires, those essential values which give ultimate meaning to their lives, their relationships, and their involvement with the world. For example, when one becomes overwhelmed juggling the increasing demands of family and career, or exhausted by the mounting expectations of one's ministerial position, or seriously disillusioned by institutional intransigence, identifying again or reformulating one's deepest desires provides a starting point for making new choices. Articulating one's deepest desires helps one to prioritize commitments and can provide some perspective for letting go of tfiose concerns which jeopardize whfit is more impor-tant. Sometimes people come to realize that .they have to r~con-sider tfieir original life commitment because of s.ubsequent choices they have made over the years. Others may discern that their deepest desires have not changed, but their they have to find a new oi" healthier way of living them out. S~ill others may experi-ence a call to liv~ out their original commitment even more rad-ically. Reapp~:opriating one's deepest desires is a critical dimension of self-knowiedge. However, for Ignatius self-knowledge was not enough. He spent many years studying in some of the most respected univer-sities of his day and achieved an advanced degree in theology because he believed that education was a critical component for ministry. He even rediaced his intense spiritual activities during his university years because he discerned that his ex[ended prayer was interfering with his con~mitment to study. Ignatius emphasized education as a significant component in the formation of young Jesuits and as an important ministry of the Society of Jesus because through it he promoted the ongoing transformation of individu-als, church, and society. Consequently, not only knowing oneself, but also knowing the complexities of any given situation, pos- May-June 1992 377 Boroughs ¯ Using Iffnatian Discernment sessing a critical understanding of systems and structures, and having sufficient education for one's current ministry or some new possibility are critical dimensions of a discernment process. Imagination: Knowledge in concert with imagination can produce new possibilities. Ignatius clearly manifested an imaginative approach to ministry through the creation of the Society of Jesus and its novel structures and methods. He also used the power of imagination in his approach to prayer. Through an imagina

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GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1902 No. 1 CONTENTS MARCH {Poem), , . 2 THE IDEALISTIC 3 J. F. NEWMAN, '02. WINNING HIS LAURELS {Story) 7 FRANK S. FITS, '02. THE ACTIVE AND PASSIVE OF LIFE, . . . . n IN MEMORIAM—DR. BAUM 14 ARE OUR DREAMS OF ANY VALUE? 15 ABDBI, R. WENTZ, '04. THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE ATTIC DRAMA, 17 EDWARD B. HAY, '03. A LIE {Story), 21 THE COLLEGE CLOCK {Poem), 29 JAMES LANDIS, '05. EDITORIALS, 31 The New Staff—Inter-Collegiate Oratorical—Contributions. EXCHANGES, 33 BOOK REVIEW .'. 35 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. MARCH. "»»7'AGE, stormy March, your wonted strife, ^ " Dark though your clouds may be, Soon, soon shall end your troubled life, Peace, of the spring-tide follows thee. Blow, winds of March, one lingering blast, End Nature's childrens' war, For gentle spring-time cometh fast, Then will your rage be o'er. Change from your chill and blustry gales, To brighter skies and balmier breeze. Wake songs of birds from hill and dale, And from the leafy trees. Waft thoughts of waking life anew, Call dormant powers to use again. Teach us to love the good, the true, Bring clearer thoughts to men. Bring us a spring of lovely bloom, Bring flowers of incense rare. Flee from our hearts the winter's gloom, Reign gentle spring-tide there. •03. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 3 THE IDEALISTIC. J. F. NBWMAN, '02. *T^HE individual just awakening to the immensity of the ^ problem of existence is stupefied by its mysteries. As he becomes acquainted with the world of realities, by which he is surrounded, his insignificance impresses him with overwhelm-ing force. The propositions, "what is man," "what is the soul of man," and "what is the destiny of each," baffle all his efforts at solution, while the activities and harshness of nature as everywhere exhibited almost drive him to distraction. Her only message appears to be, None but the fittest may survive here. He sees his plans fail and his friends taken away by death, and all the material world impresses him as harsh and un-fathomable. In discouragement he would prefer to end the conflict at once were it not for the exhilarating joy furnished by the activities of his mind. He discovers that, though death has removed his dearest friends and robbed him of his preserver, the recollection of their happy relation has a calming and satisfying influence. When he visits scenes of happy recollection, pleasant pictures rise in fancy and he almost relives the bygone happy hours ; and started in its train imagination reconstructs the old life, touching with delicate finger the unsatisfactory portions and hiding them ; recoloring the happy moments and making them shine brighter. This experience discloses a new world where everything is mellowed and beautified; where new hopes rise to take the place of those destroyed. The idealistic tends to soften and modify the realistic. The imagination or idealizing faculty be-comes, therefore, the source -of his pleasure while contending, with varying success, against the hardships of life. This is a general description of the experience of every per-son. Last summer many of us visited the Buffalo Exposition. Each individual could only feel himself an atom in the crowds assembled, and as he elbowed his way among the people, fre- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. quently with physical discomfort, did he receive real, true pleas-ure from viewing the magnificent buildings and collections of art, or did the genuine pleasure arise when the parts were re-viewed and constructed into a new whole in the mind? In brief, is it what we see and hear, or what we retain and revivify that administers to our pleasure ? To one person Beethoven's Symphonies are sublime and continue to ring in the ear long after the vibrating sound of energy has ceased; to another they are "music," and are forgotten immediately. The difference is that the first has power to imagine sound; the mind of the second does not have this power, and music means little to him. What we have been trying to describe is nicely explained by Mr. Ladd as follows: "Imagination is a development of im-age- making, considered as, to some extent, set free from recog-nized dependence upon previous experience with the actual be-havior of self or of things." The idealistic is the developed product. The imagination in the idealization processes must be consid-ered as both reproductive and creative. As reproductive it may produce anew the mental images derived from previous per-ceptive experience, although it may change their time and space relations and may throw them into new forms of suc-cession or of combination, thus producing the Sphinx. As creative the imagination is limited for its material to the mental images which had their origin in actual experience. The achievements of the creative or productive imagination range all the way from the child's efforts to build houses of its blocks to the effort of the astronomer to determine the orbit of Neptune. The imagination not only renders life pleasant, but also con-tributes to the success of every profession. Schopenhauer says: "The man without imagination stands, to him of the gifted and cultivated mind, as the mussel fastened to the rock, that must wait for what chance may bring it; is related to the animal that moves freely or even has wings." The work or artists, poets and architects is mainly of an ideal nature. The artist's creation is the idealized image of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 5 some landscape or event. In its operation the imagination obliterates the imperfection of nature ; consequently the pro-duct is always of a higher type than its original. The Corin-thian column is the idealized trunk of the palm tree. It may be argued that it is the skilled hand which draws the delicate lines of the painting and shapes the column with perfection; but the hand is only the arc-lamp which reveals the beautiful glow of the force generated by the mental dynamo. The success of the architect and landscape-gardener depends on the ability of each, not to plan a house or arrange a park according to correct mathematical formula, but io form a clear picture of the proposed construction, as it will appear when completed. To guarantee harmony and symmetry, both park and building must undergo critical mental examination before exposure in material form. In the scientific world, the philosopher who conceives of laws most clearly, and pictures their results most forcibly, is the person to whose works we refer as authority. Newton, knowing that all bodies of the solar system receive light and heat from the sun, thought that in other respects there may be similarity between the bodies; and in demonstrating the exist-ence of the force of gravitation he proved that the entire uni-verse is held in equipoise by the law which controls the move-ments of our planatory groups. Sir Archibald Geikie, delving amidst the rock of a locality, at the depth of thousands of feet, discovers the petrified ver-tebra of an animal, and from that one bone, with the aid of a friend versed in biology, not only tells us the shape, size and habits of that animal, but the condition of the earth in that distant day, and describes some of the vegetation. Th usfancy suggests ; reason and experience demonstrate. What a part the imagination plays in religion! The heavenly city with streets of gold, gates of jasper and rivers of crystal, as conceived by the comparatively ignorant to the complex conception of Milton, are all fancy pictures. In striving after purity we measure ourselves by the standard of perfection as exemplified in Jesus Christ. 6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. It is an incontestable fact that those lives in which a vigor-ous imagination has tended to create elevating, lofty ideals have been most successful. Mr. Moody, with a clear vision of the beauty of a pure life, labors earnestly for the uplifting of man-kind. Wendell Phillips, horrified at the suffering of the slaves, contributes his noble talent to the destruction of their thrall-dom. Frequently the instruction given by the mother and the hab-its formed in the home of childhood bear mighty influence in our life ideals. The simple faith and contentment shown in "The Angelu»" commemorate the home and mother under whose influence Millet was reared. While lofty ideals are ennobling, ideals of lesser type are de-grading. The wrapper of the cigarette case has started many a boy toward destruction. The anarchistic ideal of a nation with no governmental head resulted in the assassination of the honored and revered McKinley. With reference to the cultivation of this important faculty we quote from Mr. Ladd: "The constructive picture-making faculty of mind cannot be directly trained. Its training must, on the contrary, be chiefly indirect. The analytic observation of nature and human life, the reflective study of the creations of the world's most ma-terial imaginations and the subsequent self-discipline which comes from facing one's own work in a critical and; thoughtful way—these are the most fruitful exercises for the development of the creative picture-making faculty." "LET laurels, drenched in pure Parnassian dews Reward his memory dear to every muse, Who, with a courage of unshaken root, In honor's field advancing his firm foot, Plants it upon the line that justice draws And will prevail or perish in her cause." —COWPER. "HE only is advancing in life, whose heart is getting softer, whose blood warmer, whose brain quicker, whose spirit is en-tering into living peace."—RUSKIN. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. J WINNING HIS LAURELS. FRANK S. FITS, '02. TN a far distant Mexican city, a wealthy American widow ■^ and her daughter were sojourning for the winter. All about them was Mexican splendor and beauty, and at their command was everything that wealth could procure; but our young, spirited American heiress wore a dissatisfied countenance, and all because the wild scene of a bull-fight had been denied her. This was the first time the ever-indulgent mother had re-fused her daughter, and so it made it the harder for her to bear. But, gifted with all the American spirit and coquetry, she de-termined that in spite of all she would yet see the much-talked-of match. It was to be no common, every-day show, for three of the most ferocious bulls of the season were entered, one of which had sent two brave toreadors to their last resting-place, and several others to the wall, where fatigued and acknowledging their defeat, amid the hissing of the vast throng, they gave up the fight. Seven toreadors were already on the list to try their hands, as a large prize was offered to the one successfully killing the king of the herd, besides the praise and applause of half of Mexico, for which the toreador willingly risks his life—to-day he is feted, toasted and praised; he is a hero, but let him fall before an angry bull to-morrow, a fatal slip, and all is over; even if he lives, he has no friends, he is one of many now. Three weeks before the appointed day arrives, the Governor held a large reception and here were Mildred and her mother; here, too, were all the aristocracy of Mexico, among them Senor Carlos, who, mistaking Southern hospitality for love, had been pressing his suit, fervently, and as only a Mexican can, for months. On this particular evening they were seated in a shady arbor, overlooking the sea, where the merry voices and strains of music from the dance hall came floating to them through 8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the trees—and so they sat, silently watching the snowy sails drifting—drifting away as peaceful as their own peaceful life— and yet beyond were cruel, surging billows and clouds of mid-night darkness, which, behind an impenetrable veil, guarded the mysteries of life and death. Presently the man was seized with a passion that knew no bounds, and seizing her hand in both of his, trembling, though in a strong clasp, he cried almost aloud: "I love you," then cooling somewhat, he said softly, with a wondrous smile which brightened his handsome face: "Fairest of women, I love you as no man ever loved before; willingly would I give up my life, my all, if I might serve you, oh, take me—take me to you. Is it only to be scorned and turned aside that I find at last my heart's ideal?" And then—he kissed her. That kiss! It was a magical caress, raising his soul from its slumbers to the full flush and glory of awakened love. After some little talk she confided to him her desire to see the king bull slain. Would he prove his love for her by enter-ing the arena and confronting this notorious beast? Thus it happened that Senor Carlos' name appeared among the list, and that the Governor had the Americans in his private box on the long-looked-for day. As the band played a Mexican march,. the gayly attired, sight-seeing throng poured in, until a mass such as had never been seen in any Mexican city before had gathered. As is the rule in all Mexican bull fights, the numbers of less interest were run off first, holding the main attraction until last. Nothing of interest outside of the ordinary occurred in these fights. Three bulls were sent out and successfully dis-patched by the agile toreadors, and they in turn won the usual applause and cries of the vast assemblage. The band played a lively air, and the arena was filled by a deafening roar as the applause of the spectators grew in vol-umes and all knew that the time for the king bull had arrived. Glancing at the Governor's box, we see a tall, beautiful brunette, clutching wildly at some crimson ribbon—the color of her choice—pale as death itself and with wild, dilated eyes, she THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 9 tries to cry out, but her voice fails—too late, she realizes to what a dangerous mission and test Senor Carlos has been sent, for into the arena a huge, ferocious bull has rushed and is snorting and tearing the ground in all directions. The blood on the arena' from those that have gone before, has set him wild, all can see that the matadore has a very dan-gerous and difficult task before him. Senor Carlos being new, and, as the management thought, incapable, also on account of his wealth and position, had little trouble in getting permission for the first trial—all gave him "good bye" and wished him success; but I venture to say not one expected his return. Seizing his red cloak and sword, he sprang lightly through the gate and was shut in the arena with this mad animal. To win the laurels, the applause, the favor of the crowd, the bull must be teased; if necessary to get him roused, and at the risk of his own life, he must give the bull a fairly good chance of escape. A misstep, a slip, the least mistake means, in almost every case, death or a good tossing, but Senor Carlos, with so much at risk, was undaunted. Running lightly and gracefully, amid the cries of the crowd, directly up to the bull, sweeps his red cloak in front of his eyes and quickly springs aside, as the an-gry monster sweeps upon it and tears the ground round about. Almost immediately Senor Carlos is in front again with his red cloak, and, with a wild snort, the roaring bull is down on him —he barely escapes, loses his cloak and amidst the loud ap-plause of the spectators he rises from the arena. It is now time for the barbed darts, and here is shown the agility and bravery of the toreador, for after getting the at-tention of the angered animal, while he rushes past, he attempts to stick the two prongs in the back of the animal just above the front legs. Senor Carlos advanced with a dart in each hand, three times the bull rushed and each time forced the man to flee. Then, with the cries of "bravo! bravo!" ringing in his ears, he succeeded at last. The infuriated animal now did not wait for his antagonist, but rushed him time after time. The Senor on one knee now awaited his coming. On, on, he comes, IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. snorting and plunging. The man raises his arm, now leans for-ward, and in an instant has driven the steel, only to be broken, and is now without any protection save the wall and barriers. The frenzied bull turns upon him again, the vast assemblage rises as if one man, all is still—no shouts now, the excitement holds them all; in a mad rush for the wall it looks as if the man must be overtaken—with each bound the bull draws nearer, when suddenly, just as the bull, with lowered head, is about to toss him, he leaps aside—then running to the gate, another sword is handed him, and again he is facing the ani-mal in the arena while the crowd is wild with enthusiasm. Again he awaits the attacking animal. On, on, comes the monster, swaying just a trifle. The Senor now advances a little, and, as the bull in a mad rush sweeps upon him, he lightly leaps aside; then, as the bull turns to renew the attack, he sends home the steel-—this time with steady and unerring hand—and stands with one foot on the animal's neck, bowing to the crowd wild with enthusiasm, then fell to the ground of the arena. The shouting and crazed spectators are stifled, and, in a second, "He is killed!" is the cry. Attendants rush out and carry him from the ground—a shriek from the Governor's stand, someone falls, then silence again, for a "caller" has ridden in. "Senor Carlos is not dead, he has fainted, but will be well and with you in a short time—the excitement and unusual strain has been too much for him." Again we see the shady arbor, the spacious grounds, the Governor's palace, hear the band and the merry voices, but be-neath the arbor only one is sitting, but she knows it will not be long. Soon o'er the still night air comes floating a rich tenor voice, humming an old Mexican love song, she rises to her feet, with wildly beating heart, and waited—waited. The singer came nearer—nearer, was at the door of the arbor, and then, as the voice stopped, she turned. Here let us leave them, not wishing to tread on sacred ground or happi-ness— happiness supreme. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. II THE PASSIVE AND ACTIVE OF LIFE. ^| **HE pen of some mighty writer once gave to the world this **• message: "Talent develops itself in solitude, character in the stream of life." That statement brings before us the sub-ject of the passivity and activity of life. Ours is a twofold na-ture ; the soul reaches on the one hand up towards God and back into itself, and on the other out towards fellow men. The one side is just as important as the other, and each is indispen-sable to the best development of the other. Do you ever go alone by yourself? Do you ever get away from the bustle of the world, and stop, and rest ? Ah ! if we never do this, we are missing a great deal of the sweetness of life; we are not growing as large as we might; we are neglect-ing one of the most potent forces in the building of true man-hood and womanhood. It is best for us to get by ourselves at times. To be alone, with self and God, means future power. Our humanity reaches its highest development only when we permit ourselves to be in a passive or receptive state, as well as in the active one. There are gentle, unseen influences at work in the world, but these can have no effect upon us until we are in a frame of mind suitable for their reception. Nature has a voice which finds sympathetic response in the human soul. Conscience has a potency not to be reckoned. The still, small voice of our Maker is the safest guide of life. / We must let onrselves be moulded and shaped by these many mysterious influences, but our eyes will be blind to their beauty and our ears dull to their whisper, unless we are quiet, still, and alone. Their value may not be recognized at first, but we shall see their great power in the building of character, if we stop for a more careful consideration of a few of them. Solitude is the fertile source of increased faith and of power in prayer. That General Washington was on his knees in the winter woods meant something for the struggling colonies. A never-failing fountain of strength to our Master, during His 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ministry, were His frequent retreats to the mountains to let the joy of communion with His Father fill his heart and life. The quiet hour of meditation—whether at home in the early morning, or out with nature—is another influence for our good. There, when we are undisturbed, some of our best thoughts come to us. In silent meditation, apart from others, men and women have gained ideas and plans whose accomplishment has had a lasting effect for the betterment of mankind. At such times, if ever, we are lifted to those high peaks of vision from which we catch a glimpse of the unseen. These periods of passive solitude are sometimes compul-sory. But their very loneliness may be made an inspiration which transcends their trial. During convalescence from an illness, when the mind is unemployed and the body inactive, a person's plans and course of action in life may be entirely changed. The life-work of a very prominent man of our day was determined when recovering from a severe illness. Yes, there are soft voices speaking to us which it would be well for us to obey, and there are subtle influences shaping our natures to which it would be best for us to yield. For the strength gained in solitude and the power of the passive life are preparation and equipment for the life of activity. We must not be satisfied to stop here. We dare not forget that it is preparation for something else, and that just as neces-sary, for our welfare is the development of active, energetic ser-vice. Character can be attained in no other way than by con-tact with men. Man is a being of friendships, and consequently of activity. It is unnatural for a person to habitually avoid the company and association of others. It is the rubbing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the world that makes strength. How intolerable to us is the idea of the hermit life or that of solitary confinement! He who refuses to mingle or associate with others develops a mean, low nature—a man of dwarfed tastes and narrow views. The isolated man is a pigmy in char-acter. The activity of contact is essential to full manhood. A person who respects only the desires of the passive side of his being may grow to be beautiful, but cannot become THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 13 strong. Niagara Falls have always been a beauty and wonder of nature. To-day, their mighty power is, beside this, a thing of useful service. By a feat of engineering those falls were harnessed; the rushing water was brought into contact with the large turbine wheels, and around goes the machinery which produces the electricity for thousands. It is only by contact and joint action that we are of use and good to others. Not only this, but the trials and conflicts in life's struggle are the means of training our best qualities and of developing latent ones. Should the muscles of the body be unused and inactive for some time they would become powerless. It is activity which makes us strong; we must fight if we would win. Prof. Henry Drummond says: "Do not grudge the hand that is moulding the still too shapeless image within you. It is growing more beautiful, though you see it not, and every touch of temptation may add to its perfection. Therefore, keep in the midst of life. Do not isolate yourself. Be among men, and among things, and among difficulties and obstacles." We must be active if we would be our best. And yet, the passive life must help with its inspiration; solitude must lend its power. Let us keep this lesson: To seek that strength which is above and within us, and then put it to the noble ser-vice of men. •04. NEITHER years nor books have yet availed to extirpate a prejudice, rooted in me, that a scholar is the favorite of heaven and earth, the excellency of his country, the happiest of men. —EMERSON. WHAT a piece of work is a man ! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculties ! in form and moving, how express and ad-mirable ! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god !—SHAKSPEARE. FOR solitude sometimes is best society, and short retirement urges sweet return.—MILTON. 14 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. IN MEMORIAM. AST year there appeared in the March number of this * magazine, an account of the introduction of an alumnus into the Pen and Sword Society. In this number it is our sor-rowful duty to write of his death Much has been said about Dr. Baum, but like all great men he was interested in many things, and never came in contact with anything to which he did not impart some of his own power and passion. One thing for which he had great interest was this institution. He was associated with it nearly all his life. He entered as a student of the classical course in 1842. Three years later he gained the Hassler Latin prize and the year following graduated with the class of '46. In 1861 he became a member of the Board of Trustees, which position he held until death released him from the cares of this life. His face was a familiar one at Commencement, and it was only last June that he preached the Baccelaureate Sermon. Little did we think that its sound advice and words of wisdom would be his parting message. And now, that .he is not, the meaning of this message has been intensified and his words "still move, still shake the hearts of men." Much shall we miss the kind face; much more shall those to whom his judg-ment was so invaluable. And though it would be a comfort to them to have him in their midst, yet the memory of such a character must be a great consolation. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 15 ARE OUR DREAMS OF ANY VALUE? ABDEL R. WENTZ, '04. TT is not our purpose in this paper to consider the physio- "*"■ logical causes or effects of dreams. We do not intend to describe the various mental and bodily conditions which give rise to dreams, nor to examine into their salubrity or insalubrity. It is our intention to contemplate dreams in their spiritual and intellectual aspects and to show that they are not without value. Those dreams which give premonition of danger and pre-science of events we shall not attempt to explain. For either they are unreal, being mere productions of excited imaginations, or else they are only coincidences. This much is certain: not all dreams are predictions; and no one knows which to accept or which to reject. As presages of future events, therefore, dreams are certainly of no value. During our dreams the brain, all unknown to us, is at work. And the very fact that the body is at rest and that the braia is unhindered by any physical movements, gives it much greater freedom in its work than during our conscious moments. To this can be attributed the very astonishing and seemingly miraculous solution of problems which have long puzzled us and which have for months, perhaps, occupied our attention. The brain having become accustomed to think of the problems, sets to work during our deep sleep to solve it, and when we awake or whenever we chance to think of the matter, we find to our great surprise that we have come to a conclusion and have solved the problem. The impressions received during our dreams are sometimes very vivid and serve to impress upon our minds very forcibly some valuable facts. They may show us the folly of evil liv-ing, more plainly than we could otherwise see it; they may show us the evils of intemperance, or they may teach us some other valuable lesson. For example, a certain man once had a dream in which he suffered the loss of a leg through careless-ness in boarding a railroad train. Although he was glad to 16 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. find when he awoke that it was only a dream, nevertheless he has ever since exercised great care while near a train; the im-pression was a vivid and lasting one and it taught the valuable lesson of carefulness. In this same way innumerable other valuable lessons are to be learned through dreams; and the greatest value in these lessons is that they are so vividly im-pressed upon the mind and so very unlikely to be forgotten. Probably the greatest benefit to be derived from the dreams of to-day is the inspiration afforded to the arts. Who does not credit the story of Caedmon, the greatest poet of the Anglo- Saxons—how his first production in poetry, or, rather, his first literary production of any sort, was composed entirely during a dream ? Coleridge is said to have composed his poem "Kubla Khah" in a dream. And so the poets even of our own day are inspired by dreams to compose some of their best productions. And the same thing holds true in the realms of music. Tar-tinia, a distinguished violin player, is said to have composed his "Devil's Sonata" under the inspiration of a dream, in which the devil appeared to him, and invited him to a trial of skill on his own instrument. This invitation he accepted and when he awoke the music of the sonata was so vividly impressed upon his mind that he had no difficulty in committing it to paper. So, also, with the artist. His keen imaginative genius is trained to seek for the beautiful; and what is more natural than for this genius to do its best work while the body is at rest and while the mind is unencumbered by any physical activity ? Thus many artists are inspired by dreams to paint their master-pieces. In the light of the inspiration which they afford, there-fore, it can easily be seen, dreams are of no little value. In view of these facts—the constant working of the brain during sleep, the sudden solution of puzzling problems, the vivid impressions received, the profitable lessons learned, the valuable inspiration afforded to all the arts—in view of these facts we are forced to come to the conclusion that our dreams are of some value. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 17 THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE ATTIC DRAMA. EDWARD B. HAY, '03. FOR two reasons a study of the rise and development of the Greek drama should prove of the greatest interest and importance ; first, because of its perfection as dramatic lit-erature, and then on account of the close relation which it bears to the modern drama. As dramatic literature, we may safely say that no subsequent plays have come anywhere near attaining the quality of those produced in the golden age of the Greek drama. It is true that as the world grew wiser in material things a broader scope was opened to the dramatist, but this materialistic development could never add to the quality of the drama. Even Shakes-pear, the king of modern dramatists, in all his varied produc-tions, never made any pretense at portraying the vast and al-most inconceivable thoughts which were so much a part of the drama of the Greeks. The most powerful minds among this highly intellectual and richly sensuous people were for a long period devoted to tho production of the drama, so that with the advantage of the wonderful facilities of expression em-braced in their language, the Greeks thus attained a height of perfection in their dramatic literature which has been the won-der and admiration of succeeding ages. The importance of a knowledge of the Greek drama is also enhanced, when we realize that the true literary drama of the whole world is probably derived from and is certainly moulded by the drama of Greece. Some seek to go further back than ancient Hellas for the origin of the drama, but, though it is well known that the Hindus and the Chinese had a national drama from remote antiquity, yet the dramas in these countries before the time of the Greek were so elementary and of so differ-ent a character from the Greek drama even in its inception that they really bear no relation whatever to it. Hence, we must turn our eyes to Greece as the cradle of that great branch of literature known as the drama. 18 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. From its very beginning the Greek drama had an indepen-dent and self-sustained course. It had its origin in the Greek form of worship, and thus sprang immediately from the charac-teristic love of the Greek for imitation. Unable fully to grasp an abstract idea of God, these inhabitants of Hellas strove by means of art to present or represent deity more clearly to their senses. Then, they venerated this image of God, which they themselves had made, by poetry, that irrepressible music of the soul. But, we find the imaginative Greek going still further than this. His gods, the great forces of nature personified, had a capacity for suffering, or for gladness. These sensations of the gods he represented by mimic dances, and it was in these religious orgies that the Greek drama began. One god in particular was worshiped with fervid zeal in these music dances and hence bears a close relation to the beginning and development of the Greek drama. This was Dionysus, who, with his cult, holds such an important relation to the his-tory of the drama that a brief description of them will not be inopportune at this place. Dionysus was a son of Semele, a daughter of Cadmus, king of Thebes. The great Zeus was his father. Before the ma-turity of the child, at the request of his mother, Zeus appeared in all his majesty as the god of lightning. Semele immediately fell a victim to her curiosity, but the infant Dionysus was saved from the fierce lightning by the sudden springing up about him of cool ivy. Zeus then took him and inclosed him within his own thigh till he reached maturity, when by a seeming sec-ond birth he was brought to the light. The worship of Dionysus, originally observed in Thrace, was soon spread throughout Greece, where it absorbed and moulded into one vast legend grouped about Dionysus the worship and veneration formerly paid to various hordes of lesser spirits. Thus we find this god represented with a motley following of rude Satyrs, lascivious Sileni, powerful centaurs and various other allegorical figures. Dionysus was orginally the god of the productive forces of nature. It was he who gently wak-ened the earth each spring after its winter's slumber, clothed it THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 19 with vegetation and called each blossom into being. However, it was chiefly as the god of the vineyard that he was worshiped by the Greek. As the god of wine he dispelled sorrow, awak-ened joy and tamed the savage spirit of man and beast, so that his car was said to be drawn by panthers and lions, while the natives of the forest followed in his train. The manner in which this god of all vegetable life came to be worshiped so particularly as the god of one kind of vegetation and that the vine, was that his invocation being of a very ecstatic nature was found to be stimulated greatly by wine. Gradually with the use of so much wine in his worship his original attributes were almost forgotten and he came to be worshiped as the god of wine, the god who exalted man over all earthly care and sorrow. Such a god appealed peculiarly to the Greek, so that his worship soon became universal throughout Hellas. For our purpose, however, it will be suffi-cient to trace this worship in Attica, the principal seat of Greek culture. Each year, in Attica, two festivals were held in honor of Dionysus, the one in the spring, when the earth was awakening to new and joyous life under the fostering care of Dionysus, and when the wine of the past year was mellowed for drinking; the other in the winter in celebration of the completed vintage and the ingathered fruits. In the wild dances or processions of these two festivals the Greek drama in its dual division of tragedy and comedy found its source. Tragedy traces its origin to a hymn called the Dithyramb, which was sung by a chorus at these festivals. The singing of this hymn was accompanied by a flute and by dancing around the altar of Dionysus. Here, the double birth, the suf-ferings and various actions of the god, were passionately cele-brated. In the course of time the Dithyramb developed into a distinct kind of Greek lyric poetry. It was at Corinth that it first reached a definite, artistic form. This was brought about by a celebrated Corinthian harp-player by the name of Arion. He set the number of the chorus at fifty, introduced spoken verses into the choral odes, established superior music and 20 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. brought about order, system and regularity in the Dithyramb. In fact, he so moulded it and gave to it definite shape that he was credited by the ancients with its actual invention. This, however, was not the case, as the Dithyramb had existed in a crude form long before Arion appeared to give it permanence of form and artistic finish. Thespis a century later introduced an innovation by bringing a single actor on the stage for the purpose of giving the chorus a rest. He is also said to have introduced the use of the mask. During the decade immediately following the death of Thespis a number of tragic poets sprang up, concerning three of whom we have some knowledge. Choerilus, the earliest of the trio, is credited with certain improvements in the masks and dresses of the actors. Pratinas, writing a little later, introduced the satyric plays, which immediately became very popular. Phrynichus, the most famous of the group, made a daring in-novation by dramatizing contemporary history. Before him mythology had been the sole object of dramatization. He is also said to have been the first dramatist to employ female masks. His chief merit, however, consisted in the increased dignity and pathos which he rendered to tragedy and in the ex-quisite beauty of his lyrical odes. His influence upon succeed-ing early dramatists was great. Thus far the chorus was the main thing, the single actor a mere substitute for the chorus when it grew tired. The op-posing or contrasting of opposite natures, the interchange of rival passions and ambitions, all that is most important and of the greatest interest of the drama of to-day was as yet unheard of and impossible because a play with more than one actor be-side the chorus was unknown and unthought of. Hence in the hands of the early dramatists the drama had as yet scarcely gone beyond the embryonic stage. ( To be continued.) THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 21 A LIE. TT was a late evening, cold and blustery. All the clerks had * already gone home and the partners only remained in the office. One of them, the elder, seated at the desk, was care-fully running over the accounts and endeavoring with all haste to close them and go home to his wife and children. The other, reclining dreamingly in his favorite rocker and smok-ing to his heart's content was carefully reading the evening news. "Confound the women," broke the silence with an imprecat-ing tone. "Well, what's wrong with you now ? queried the man at the desk. "Oh, I don't know that there is anything wrong with me," replied Ben, "my pulse is normal, but there is a heap of things wrong with the women of our days. Why you can't pick up a paper that don't have some crime charged against her. Not long ago I read of a mother arraigned before court for maltreating her own children. Last week at least half a dozen good-lookers were hauled in for shoplifting. Day before yesterday that maudlin gathering up town was exposed. And now to-night, I see that Sam Hall's wife ran off with that pouter-pigeoned dandy that's been sporting around here for the last three weeks. Just yesterday I saw Sam and as usual in-quired about himself and family, and got his usual reply, 'get-ting along swimmingly.' Sam is as fine a man as you'll find in any day's march, his children are models and his wife always appeared like the genuine article; never spoke of Sam but in highest respect; and now took a skip with another. You see, Frank, you can't trust one of them'. Old Madam Eve peeps out of every eye under a bonnet. The women are all cut over the same pattern. I told you that often before, and the older I grow the more I believe it." "Look here, Ben," interrupted the man at the desk, before he could advance any further in his senseless harangue, "you might as well bay at the moon as croak to me in that tone. You would accomplish as much. I have told you over and 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. over again that your views are exterior. You see the cathe-dral window from without and imagine that it is nothing but a confused and conglomerated mass of color. You have never opened your bachelor eyes within the hallowed precincts of woman's nature. The dormant fires of your affections have never been kindled at her shrine." "Bah!" replied Ben, with a contemptuous sneer, and dropping his paper, placed his feet on the back of a chair before him. His lazy eyes began to follow the fantastic curls of smoke as they rose in spirals from his lips, his head became enveloped in a filing cloud of fragrance, and he fell into a reverie. "The dormant fires of your affections were never kindled at her shrine!" Such arrows as that had been flung at him before but the proud stoicism with which he concealed the wounds, led his friends to believe him invulnerable. "Dormant fires!" "Never kindled!" Those words, as similar ones aforetime, sealed his lips and carried him in fancy back to a college romance. He recalled his former and his only sweetheart, Beatrice. He saw again the sparkle of her vivacious hazel eyes and the rosy flush of her dimpled cheeks as they appeared on the night of the ban-quet. He recalled the rapture with which he taught her the art of rowing, and the idle pleasure with which he permitted her to row unconsciously into a clump of rushes beneath the weeping willow. He beheld her again as the graceful fingers of her slender hands ran lambently o'er the keys of her piano, he heard again the carolling notes of her voice as she sang to him his favorite songs. He remembered their moonlight walks, their numerous jokes, their vigorous correspondence. "Dormant fires! Never kindled!" Why, the very glance of her eyes was enough to consume a heart of stone. The ashes of his dying censor fell rudely on his bosom and his reverie was at an end. "See here, Frank," he began slowly, "I know you consider me a sort of a second-rate fool on the woman question, but.I am going to tell you something. Perhaps you will change your mind, if marriage has left you the commodity. But re- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 23 member this is strictly inter-nos, and by that I don't mean be-tween you and the old woman either." "Go ahead," said the man at the desk, with a generous smile. "Well, when I was at college," Ben began, as he reached for a match to relight his cigar, "I carried on a correspondence with no less than a dozen interesting young girls of my own age. They were as fine a bevy as you could collect anywhere, even in Kentucky. Two of them lived in Baltimore, Beatrice Wyman and Luella Kreider. With the latter I was passingly acquainted, with the former I was in it up to my ears. I had it bad, Frank, and she had a touch of it, too. It so happened one week that I answered both their letters in one evening. My room was full of bums, and they almost broke their necks trying to make me blunder. I put up a bluff, however, as though I didn't care and went on until I had both written and placed in separate envelopes. I then went over to the book case for several stamps, came back to the table, stamped the envelopes, sealed and addressed them. Advising the fellows in my shack to go out and hunt a little star dust, I extinguished the light and ploughed up toward the office to mail the letters." "Well," he continued, after a good, long pull on his neglected cigar, "nothing unusual happened during the next few days, the sun rose and set as usual, recitation hours came and went as boorishly as ever, beef steak just as tough at the boarding house, and washing just as expensive as any other time. On the third day, however, as punctual as ever, my letter from Beatrice was at hand. I always knew hers the moment I looked into the box. They were some of those blue ones, square-cut and double-breasted, you know. I opened it at once and began to read. It ran something like this: "BALTO., MD. RESPECTED FRIEND : "Yours of the 20th at hand and con-tents duly noted, but am perplexed beyond measure to know what motive you might have in requesting another of my photos, when I mailed you one of my latest with my last letter. 24 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "The remainder of that letter I have forgotten, but that cold nor-wester comin' down the top of the page hit me hard. I tell you, it went in to my bones. I'll be blamed if I didn't feel like a corn stalk after a hail storm. "Well, in just about half the time it takes to say it, I saw my mistake. The formal letter, with a request for a photo, had gone to Beatrice, and the one with my heart aches had gone to Luella. I tell you, I felt like a dyspeptic goat for a while. One of the fellows in my room, I suppose, changed the posi-tion of the envelopes while I had my back turned, and I ad-dressed Luella's letter to Beatrice, and Beatrice's letter to Luella. "How I was ever to get out of that mess kept me guessing for quite a while. My first impulse was to tell her that the re-quest for a photo was intended as an acknowledgment of the one she had already sent me, and that the mistake was due to the efforts of the boys to get me off. That, I assured myself, would dissolve my first perplexity, but the other statements of the letter, as memory brought them to light, made my teeth chatter. That ruse wouldn't work at all, I soon saw that. "I decided to make a clear breast of the whole matter and tell her in unvarnished English that she had gotten the wrong letter, and that hers had gone to another. One whole week I spent in composing that letter and wasted two tablets in doing it, and it wasn't on account of the style or the gathering of choice quotations, either, that it took me so long. You see, I had always left Beatrice under the impression that she was my only correspondent, with the exception of mother and a few cousins, and in 'fessing up now that she had received the letter of another, it behooved me to be mighty particular about my footing. You see, I had something definite to say and had to say it in a remarkably definite way. It seemed like walking a tight rope on stilts to me. But I did it. Sent off the best piece of literature I ever wrote. And what was the result ? Never received an answer! She never even acknowledged the receipt of my letter! That shows what's in a woman ! "Now talk about your exterior views, and your little shrine. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 2$ I guess you had better stick that cathedral window in your pipe and smoke it. Did you ever waste a tablet on your wife ? Did you, eh ?" "Well, we'll take your word for it," said the man at the desk as he closed his cumbersome ledger and rose to insert it into the safe. "Yes, I guess you will," retorted the irritated bachelor, who had well observed that his auditor was paying more attention to the accounts of the ledger than to his own. "Come on, old boy," rejoined the other, "get on your coat, it's getting late and time for us both to be at home. When you get home to-night, you take a good dose of lethe and per-haps you will feel better in the morning." The senior member of the firm had never enjoyed the advantages of a college education, but invariably enhanced his remarks with a liberal sprinkling of classic allusions to show Ben that there are sev-eral by-paths to the Persian spring, as well as the public highway he had traveled. With several more antiphonal re-torts of a similar sort, the partners walked down the long aisles of mute merchandise, adjusted the alarm, turned off the lights, bolted and locked the doors and disappeared for the night. Ten long monotonous years had passed since those scenes of halcyon youth to which Ben's bachelor eyes had turned a retrospective gaze. Ben, in the meantime, had grown cold and methodical to those about him. Beatrice, yes, Beatrice, where she was, or what she was, or whether she was at all was known to God but not Ben. He had, with the information of his old chum, a neighbor of the Wymans, in Baltimore, traced her as far as England. He knew that she had, on her transatlantic voyage, become acquainted with a dashing young beau of New York. He knew that their friendship was ultramarine, for they spent a month in jaunting the famous isle together. He had learned also to his sorrow that their friendship had ripened into a devotion and that they had organized a party of two for a European tour. But of subsequent events he was ignorant. On the week of their departure from England his informant 26 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. moved from Baltimore, and with his removal Beatrice was lost to his lingering gaze as a swallow is lost in the distant sky. She had gone; she had flown; three thousand miles of foam-ing sea lay fixed between their alienated lives. Far off though she was, her image was ever on Ben's mental retina, and whether he walked the sands of summer seas or through the busy thoroughfares, he was ever on the alert for the complement of that image, for the idol of his heart. True, he had feigned indignation at her when he opened his heart to his friend at the desk, but the inner sanctuary of his heart was unlocked. Deep down in his soul was a lingering desire to see his Beatrice once again and discover, if possible, whether they were not the dupes of fate, whether there was not a misunderstanding between them for which they were both irresponsible and sad. The Winter died away and Spring, with its humidity, ap-peared once more. Ben began to complain of failing health, and intimating to his friends that a European tour might build him up again, he was not at a loss to find a physician to rec-ommend it to him. The beginning of June was the time designated as the most profitable to an invalid; then the benign exhalations of the sea would be most strengthening, the Alpine hills most charming. His plans began to crystallize, and by the first of June, were so adjusted that a three months'furlough could be taken without disturbing in the least the mechanism of the store. His ship was not booked to leave New York be-fore the fifth of June, but he was ready to go, and so sick of the routine life of the yard-stick and balance, that he deter-mined to leave the town at once. His first stop, he decided, should be in the quiet, historic town of Gettysburg. There he hoped more thoroughly to acquaint himself with the movements of the two opposing armies, the position of their batteries, the topography of their charges, and the tactics of leaders, in order better to determine their relative value when he should stand at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Giving his friends a sanguine good-bye, and promising several THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 27 of the clerks a memento or two, he set out on his trip with the hope of arriving at his first place by six in the evening. This, however, was rendered impossible, as his train, by rea-son of a freight wreck along the way, did not arrive at the central station in Philadelphia in time to make the connections. The last of the day's trains for Gettysburg had already left when his train reached the place; he was compelled to spend the night in the city, and keen, indeed, was his disappointment, for there were four places he had intended to visit before taking ship, and now, there were but three days left. It was evident that one of the places would have to be cancelled, and he had decided that Gettysburg should be the one. At the other three places he had friends whom he wished to see before going abroad; at Gettysburg there were only places of interest, and faces are always more fascinating than places. Mentioning his misfortune to one of the hotel clerks and asking him for his advice, he was, however, soon convinced that Gettysburg should not be missed. "Don' be amissin' Gettys-burg, boss," said the dusky fellow, with the air of one who speaks with authority, "I'se been a workin' dar fer tin yeahs an' knows de fiel' laik I knows me ole banjo. It'll pay yer, boss, to go a thousand miles to see it, 'deed it will." The next morning Ben boarded the smoker and continued his journey to Gettysburg, arriving there at 2 p. M., dejected and lonely. Finding his way as hastily as possible to the leading hostelry of the place, he sood filled that aching void, and was out on the battlefield. Being a pedestrian of no mean order and in search of health, supposedly, he refused the ubiquitous cabmen and started to study the crisis of the war on foot. He had left word that he would expect a five o'clock supper, so that he might take the six o'clock train for Harrisburg. But a bachelor's word is no more to be relied upon than the arrangement of his collars and ties in his bureau drawers, and Ben proved no ex-ception to the rule. In buying a number of relics, historical and otherwise, mostly otherwise, and going to the points of in-terest, where they were supposed to have been found, he whiled 28 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. away the afternoon and did not think of wending homeward, until he noticed, to his amazement, that the sun was setting, while the hands of his watch were still registering 4.30 as the time of day. Hastily as he could travel, with the involved directions of the yeomen along the way, he plodded toward the outskirts until the court-house clock struck seven. Another misfortune! Another example of the futility of human designs ! His train had come and gone, and he was left behind again. Not given, however, to cavalling at a broken pitcher, he proceeded with philosophic serenity toward the hotel. At exactly 7.30 he was again at the table; for a full half hour he sat eating and drink-ing, alone. The table cleaned, and his ravenous appetite ap-peased, he retired to his room and lit a cigar. Here, he fell into a reverie. Home faces crowded in upon him, European scenes of his own creation loomed up before him. The ill-for-tunes of his railway connections led him to speculate on his future perigrinations. He was lost in a world of fancy, when suddenly, a wrap at the door brought him back to earth again. ( To be continued.) "TlS a story short and simply told, Almost in a single breath, A dauntless man, with courage bold, Dying an infamous death. He knew not the Master's presence sweet, He knew not his holy face, Nor the tones of his voice with love replete ; In his voice alone was his grace. There was no battle's intricate plan, No nation's loud applause; He only lived and died a man For Christ and for His cause. And yet in truth what a gallant defense ! By witnesses, suborned, belied He met them with matchless eloquence, And for his faith he died. "MARTIN LOENZ."— University of Virginia Magazine. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 29 THE COLLEGE CLOCK. JAMES DANDIS, '05. ACROSS the paths of the Campus I see, Towering above the highest tree, With its gothic battlements and turrets tall, The massive front of Recitation Hall; With its one lone tower reaching t'wards the sky, Though lofty it be, yet is not so high As the aspirations of the Freshman "small." The high arched portal that very well Receives and strengthens the debaters yell, As warm from the contest he hurries out And vents his joy in the exultant shout. The echoing corridors shut out by doors, Beyond which are given out the stores Of learning, the rich spoils of time, And years of research in the vast mine Of knowledge, where groping as in the night, We sudden ascertain, then bring to light Some hidden truth or unknown sign. But high above these chambers wise, Its form outlined against the sky, Rises the tower in whose lofty dome The old College Clock has its home. I see as the sunlight strikes the tower The hands of the clock indicate the hour. But when 'tis draped in the shadows of night Shows dim uncertain in the pale moonlight. But whether darkness or light on the bronzed dial Darkens or brightens its face, meanwhile, With monotonous tick it keeps its pace With the circling earth as it reels through space How oft in the day its warning note Calls the student who burns with hope, As he dashes down the old Dorm stair And issues out in the open air, Then hastens across beneath that bell In the chambers of learning his task to tell, And make a ten (or otherwise) In the dept. where his ambition lies. 30 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. As at early morn the ne'er failing bell Rouses the sluggard as if to tell To hurry or miss the morning prayer, How often too at dead of night, When float before the student's sight, Scenes of home and the dear ones there, It breaks upon the midnight air In melencholy tone. When winter's winds howl 'round the wall, In sudden gusts its cadence falls, As the sound is borne from its lofty liar, Then dies away on the midnight air Like footsteps through the deserted halls. Long has it rung, long may it ring That each succeeding year may bring New actors on the scene; We pray then may the numbers swell Under thy sway, Oh magic bell, And the influence of our Dem.! THOUGHT is the labor of the intellect, reverie is its pleasure. To replace thought with reverie is to confound poison with nourishment.—HUGO. How various his employments whom the world calls idler; and who justly in return esteems that busy world an idler too! —COWPER. KNOWLEDGE is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information upon it.—JOHNSON. ONE should not write in obedience to mere reasoning, but in obedience to feeling dominating the whole being.—TOLSTOI. THOUGHT is the property of him who can entertain it, and of him who can adequately place it.—EMERSON. THIS is the truth the poet sings, That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. —TBNNYSON. COMB forth into the light of things ; Let nature be your teacher. —WORDSWORTH. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. XI. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1902 No. 1 Editor-in-chief H. S. IvEWARS, '03 Assistant Editors Exchange Editor Miss MARY WILSON, '04 SAM. P. WEAVER, '04 LYMAN A. GUSS, '04 Business Manager E. CARL MUMFORD, '03 Asst. Business Manager FRED. MASTERS, '04 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, LITT.D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Busi-ness Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. The labor of the retiring staff ended with last month's issue. Their work for the year was a literary and financial success. We look at it now with pride, but back of it all is patient, persistent toil. The Editor added several new features to the magazine and strove to maintain its literary standing. The Business Manager received his talents and returned them with usury. Through his untiring efforts the new staff has been able to begin its work upon a solid basis. These men with their assistants deserve the thanks of their fellow students. New men now take the place of these old servants. Though inexperienced in the work, they have excellent examples in 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. their predecessors, and it shall be their aim to uphold the stan-dard fixed by them, that their labors shall not have been in vain. As they were ever busy, ever on the alert, so shall we try to send the winged messenger always on time and well equipped, nor shall Mercury have a chance to unclasp the winged sandals sandals from his feet. INTER-COLLEGIATE ORATORICAL. Certain seasons of the year mark certain college contests. Beginning in the fall, we have foot ball. In the winter comes basket-ball training. And spring finds base-ball in full blast. Be-tween the last two comes another kind of contest—one not of muscle and speed—the oratorical. In other contests there are always plenty of applicants, always two teams and enough of men to select. But not so in the oratorical contest. Comparatively few men ever enter the lists. For some reason students care more for the one kind of ath-letics- than for the other. Yet it should not be so. It seems quite proper that the oratorical should come between the con-tests of winter and spring. It gives the man not gifted with a strong body a chance. Many are not fitted for this work, but they can do as they are wont on the gridiron. Speak a good word for it—give it a cheer, that the contestants may take increased interest, and bring to witness, their own ability and the status of the institu-tion. IT is with no hesitancy that the incoming CONTRIBUTIONS. staff voJces the sentiments of the retiring staff relative to contributions. According to the former editions lack of material seems to be the chief source of em-barrassment confronting the editorial staff. It is a misfortune which ought to be remedied and certainly can be, not by its staff, however, but by their subscribers. Especially do we refer to the student-body, where enough latent power and natural talent exists to supply the wants of the paper many THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 33 times over. It is the earnest desire of the' present staff to eradicate this existing perplexity and in no way can it be so successfully accomplished as by voluntary assistance on the part of the students. In fact there is no alternative. In finance the journal has an excellent standing and only awaits liberality of contributions to strengthen its literary status. Modesty is too often a restraint to many students along this line of work, but loyalty to our institution and interest in the success of our magazine should overcome this circumstance. Let there be emulation in this department as in others. The success of the literary journal depends upon the interest of the individual. With this first number of the eleventh volume the staff extends a hearty appeal for contributions and hopes for a ready response. EXCHANGES **W^HE exchange editor begins his work under the most *■ promising auspices. He finds himself surrounded by piles of exchanges on every side; some excellent; others hav-ing room for great improvement. It will be his duty to com ment upon the good, and to criticise those'which, in his judg-ment, need criticism. The criticisms, however, will be offered in the most friendly manner, and it is to be hoped that they will be received in the same spirit. No effort will be spared to give the MERCURY the highest possible standard, but we will always gladly welcome the opinions of our fellow-editors, whether in praise or criticism. With this conscience we will proceed with the work. The Lesbian Herald is always a welcome visitor, but the Feb-ruary number being devoted entirely to historic Frederick, was read with more than ordinary interest. The Free Lance comes to our table with several well-written and timely editorials. We agree that there is a great dearth of instructive lectures in the college entertainment course. 34 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. TWIUGHI THOUGHTS. Hark ! the night falls. Dost thou hear the sighing Of the sunset wind in darkness dying ? Dost thou hear the timid water falling Where shadows on the rocks are lying ? Tell me, dost thou hear it? Tell me, dost thou fear the spectral quiver Of the starlight on the sullen river ? Dost thou fear the dark that broods upon it As the hopeful day were gone forever ? Tell me, dost thou fear it ? Fear not! These are hours when dim discerning Feels the phantom of an old-time yearning, Wandering far amid the dusk and silence— Wandering far, and sometimes nigh returning But returning never. Through the twilight deepening, backward bringing All the passion to remembrance clinging, Old affections fall upon us softly, Like the memory of a far-off singing That is gone forever. —EDWARD BUTI,ER, in The Nassau. A yell proposed for Carnegie's new college: Kilties and knee-caps Bare and braw; Hoot mon ! Hoot mon ! Rah! Rah! Rah I—Ex. The Pottsville Monthly is one of the best high school papers visiting our table. It can, however, be improved by-keeping the advertisements separated from the other material. 'The shades of night are falling fast." The oyster stew is o'er. The midnight gas begins to lower, And rats begin to snore. For while the lessons long are conned, They take a little snooze; And, when we're safe in slumber-land, Go camping in our shoes. —j. L. s., in Buffand Blue. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 35 This tiny sprig of mignonette She plucked, and wore, and cast away. Enough for just one triolet This tiny sprig of mignonette, Faded and crushed and dead—Ah, yet This tiny sprig of mignonette She plucked, and wore, and cast away. —Georgetown College Journal. Space will not permit us to mention all our visitors individ-ually, so we will consider them in toto. The University of Virginia Magazine certainly holds pre-eminence among our ex-changes. The February number of the Georgetown College Journal. The Haverfotdian and College Student also deserve special mention. A PORTRAIT. As I see her I will paint her With her gift of beauty round, As each curve runs onward bending, 'Till in utmost perfect blending Grace is found. As a blue winged swallow dip ^ Reels its wings before one's eyes, Softest blue one moment flashing, Then it soars with power dashing Up to the skies. That's the blue her eyes can dartle With a pure and smiling sight, Half a look of timorous daring, Half a look of sweetness faring On its right. Then her lashes, fringing darkly, As a bough drops o'er a pool, Bending with a softest fading O'er the water it is shading, Clear and cool. And her face with skin that's faintly Colored with a faintest red, While around heaped high and waving Sweet disorder runs a knaving 'Round her head. 36 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. So with nature as my paint box I would paint her graceful height, 'Till the evening softly hushes— Bids me put away my brushes For the night. -Louis WAHNEE, in The Nassau Literary Magazine. The Dickinson Literary Monthly continues to hold its place as one of our most attractive exchanges. "Lost Yet Won," is a very interesting story. The effect of the story "Onaho" is somewhat lessened by the introduction of a character foreign to the legend. THE WINDS ARE ROUGH AND WILD. The winds are rough and wild. The torn clouds hurry by, But over all the new-born moon Looks calmly from the sky. So love, forever new, 'Mid storms that sin doth bring, Looks calmly, sweetly over all, And knows no suffering. —T. A., in Philomathean Monthly. BOOK REVIEW. Songs of the Eastern Colleges. Hinds and Noble, New York City. Price #1.25. This volume contains many old and favorite songs of the college student, and also some comparatively new ones which have already met with great popularity among our Eastern colleges. According to the compilers, the collection has been made for two purposes, first, to provide the Eastern colleges with songs which are always used whenever the students gather together; second, to deepen the spirit of brotherhood already existing between college organizations. Nothing in the entire college life is more "provocative of contagious geniality" and "brings so strongly before the graduate's mind the glori-ous days of yore" than the college songs. Such a book as this will no doubt find itself cheerfully welcomed by both students and alumni. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. The Pleased Customer is not a stranger in our estab-lishment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, IXEexe:tLa.n.t Tailor, 29 Chambersburg Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. CITY HOTEL, Main Street, - Gettysburg, Pa. Free Bus to an from all trains. Thirty seconds' walk from either depot. Dinner with drive over field with four or more, Jr.35. Rates, $1.50 to $2.00 per Day. John E. Hughes, Prop. L. M. ALLEMAN, Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware, CETTYSBURC, PA. The only Jobbing House in Adams County. CMS. E. BARBEHENR, THE EAGLE HOTEL Corner Main and Washington Sts. Cream of Roses For Chapped Hands, Face, Lips, and Rough Skin. Removes Tan and Sunburn. Gentlemen should use it after shaving. It cures razor pimples. Price, 25 cents. For sale at CODORI'S DRUG STORE. d. B. ^zmillei1, Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes, GETTYSBURG, PA. WEIKERT & CEOUSE, Butchers, Everything in this line we handle. GIVE US A TRIAL. Baltimore Street, - Gettysburg. BOME AND SEE one of the larg-est, best lighted and equipped Modem PMoEraDliic Studios in Pennsylvania, which will be oc-cupied about April 1st. Nos. 20 and 22 Chambersburg St. On opposite side of street from old stand. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTIZERS. GETTYSBURG, PA. Merville E. Zinn, Proprietor. The Leading Hotel. Rates $2.00 per day. Cuisine and Service First-Class. Long &. Holtzworth Livery Attached. I mO/fc©=VI/|t/ o£ T OA/1/V CUill DQ. Seligman, Taiio*. B Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. ; J. A. TAWNEY Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with . Bread, Rolls, Etc., At short notice and reason-able rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. W. F. CODORI £ Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal and Sausage. Special rates to clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG, PA. Stetson and Douglas SHOES For a full line of samples of all the latent tyles In Stetson and Douglas Shoes call to see C. E3. COOK Room 24 East All goods delivered -within three days How to Attract and Hold an Audience ■pVERY teacher, every clergyman, every ■■-' lawyer, every man or woman or youth who is likely ever to have occasion in commit-tee, or in public, to enlist the interest of one or more hearers, and convince them every per-son who ever has to, or is likely to have to " speak " to one or more listeners will find in our new book a clear, concise, complete hand-book which will enable him to succeed/ PRICE—$1.00 Postpaid—CLOTH HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers 4-5-6-12-13-14 Cooper Institute, N. Y. City Schoolbooks of allpublishers at one store 50 YEARS' EXPERIENCE TRADE MARKS DESIGNS COPVniGHTS Ac. Anvone sending n sket oh nnd description may quickly ascertain our opinion free whether an invention is probably patentab.e. Comrmmicn-tlons strictly confidential. Handbook on Patents sent free. Oldest agency for securing patents. Patents taken throuKh Munn & Co. receive special notice, without charge, in the Scientific American. A handsomely illustrated weeklr. T.nrtrest cir-culation of any scientific journal. Terms, $3 a year; four months, $L Sold by all newsdealers. MUNN&Co/5618™^New York Branch Office. 625 F St., Washington, D. C. GO TO. HARRY B. SEFTON'S (Barber (Shop For a good shave or hair cut. Barbers' supplies a specialty. Razor Strops, Soaps, Brushes, Creams, Combs, Mugs and Coke Dandruff cure. No. 38 Baltimore St. GETTYSBURG. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Stationery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a specialty. THESE FIRMS ARE O. K. PATRONIZE THEM. E. H. FORREST Butchet Beef, Veal, Pork, Lamb. Special rates to Clubs. * 185CM902 ^ Our Name has stood as a guarantee of Quality for over half a Century JEWEIlEt* RJHD SIIlVEf*S]VUTH MJf. and 216 Market St., - . Harrisburg, Pa. Latest Designs Prices Reasonable Chas. S. Mumper. ^^ FURNITURE Picture Frames of all sorts Repair work done promptly t®*I will also buy or exchange any second-hand furniture. 4 Cbambersburg St., - -.".- GETTYSBURG, PA. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on Baker o£ Bread and. Faney Calces

Tom L. Van Cleave, May 29, 2013 ; The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ; This is an oral history interview with Tom Van Cleave conducted on May 29, 2013 by Ruby Licona. During the interview, Tom discusses his memories of attending Weber as a student as well as his career at Weber State University. Tom retired from Weber State University in 2011 as the Director of Planned Operations. ; 52p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 sound disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Tom L. Van Cleave Interviewed by Ruby Licona 29 May 2013 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Tom L. Van Cleave Interviewed by Ruby Licona 29 May 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Van Cleave, Tom L., an oral history by Ruby Licona, 29 May 2013, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Tom Van Cleave May 29, 2013 Abstract: This is an oral history interview with Tom Van Cleave conducted on May 29, 2013 by Ruby Licona. During the interview, Tom discusses his memories of attending Weber as a student as well as his career at Weber State University. Tom retired from Weber State University in 2011 as the Director of Planned Operations. RL: I'm Ruby Licona, faculty member in the Stewart Library at Weber State University. Today, May 29, 2013, we are talking with Tom Van Cleave who retired as Director of Planned Operations at Weber State in 2011. He has been on campus for quite a while and we thought it would be good for him to tell us his perspective of things that have occurred on campus during that time. Tom, why don't you start out telling us a little bit of your background and how you happened to become associated with Weber State? TV: I was born right here in Ogden, Utah 66 years ago. I went to Ogden High School and graduated in 1965. I took my first class here at the university in 1966. I was working at the Marqus ROT Corp as a painter at the time, and I took a drafting class here. Actually, it was a blueprint reading class which sparked my interest. At the time, in order to register they had the old punch cards. Registration was in the shop area of the technical education building where you showed up and went place to place to get your cards so you could register. I took most of my drafting classes in the technical education building. I'd take one class a quarter because I had a job and a family, so I couldn't really stay focused with my education. I would take a few classes and drop out and then take a few more classes later. RL: You were not a four-year student. 1 TV: I was not. I was most definitely a nontraditional type of a student. I went from job to job and I ended up at a place called the Amalgamated Sugar Company. You would know it as White Satin Sugar. I furthered my education there working for a mechanical engineer. His name was Harvey Bingham. I will never forget this man as long as I live. He was the mentor type. I would ask him a question and every engineer had a boatload of books, so he would pull a book and say, "Okay here's the section. I want you to read this, then come back and we will talk about it." In that process, he became more of my mentor than anything else. In 1973, the engineering section I worked in as a draftsman decided they wanted the engineer group at the sugar factories. They wanted me to move to Nyssa, Oregon, but I wanted to continue my education. Nysaa, Oregon is 50 miles away from Boise State or anyplace where I could get my degree. As a consequence, I had to decline that. I ended up working for a family-owned business called Precision Built Homes which later became Precision Built Systems. It didn't take me too long to realize that the growth opportunities were just not there. I saw an ad in the Ogden Standard Examiner that they wanted an architectural draftsman. I applied for it and so did two other people that I worked with at Precision Built Systems. I interviewed with Bob Folsom, who was the Director of Campus Planning at the time. Bob was an architect and a very intelligent guy. RL: Was he Director of Campus Planning for Weber State? TV: Yes, that's right. Anyway, I interviewed with him and then time went by and I thought the university had forgotten all about me. I didn't know what the 2 bureaucracy was. I was used to private industries where it was, "You want the job? Okay, you're hired." They finally called and wanted me to come to work. Needless to say, I was elated because I had a long association with Weber State and I really thought this was going to be ideal for me. Plus, I could continue my education. I used to ride motorcycles at the time. I had a Yamaha YZ 400 and I was into racing and things like that. Just one week before I came to work here, I had a motorcycle crash and separated my shoulder. Of course, it was my right shoulder. RL: Which you used as a draftsman. TV: That's right. Bob Folsom hired a two-armed draftsman and a one-armed one showed up. He kind of looked at me and was a little bit surprised that I showed up with my arm in a sling. I thought, "Oh no, I'm out of here." He dealt with it pretty well. I learned how to draw by grabbing my sling with my left hand and moving the pencil with my right. That was back when we did all board drafting. I realized that this was my opportunity and I had to make the best out of it. Bob was very encouraging in that he wanted people to take advantage of what Weber had to offer. RL: That was in 1978? TV: Yes. That was 1978 that I was hired in. I'd take classes and I finally got into the mechanical engineering program which was basically nonexistent prior to 1979. Over time, I was able to take enough classes to finally graduate. I had graduated with my Associate's in Engineering Graphics in 1974. 3 RL: When did you graduate with your Bachelor's? TV: That wasn't until 1986. RL: Better late than never. TV: Oh yes. I'll tell you, it was a tough uphill climb for me. I had a family to support and a lot of times I'd have to work two jobs to make ends meet. RL: Do you remember any of the faculty that you worked with when you first got here? TV: I most certainly do. I took my first drafting classes in the engineering technology building on the west wing down on the south side. Later on, I took more classes at what we used to call the "TUB" which was the temporary union building. It was on the east side of building four. I remember taking drafting classes there in the wintertime and you could almost hear the wind whistling through. It was an old barracks is what it boiled down to. That's where the union building was housed in the late 1950's while the permanent union was being built. You never knew what you were going to get in that building. One of the more memorable professors I had was Park Guymon. He was a chemistry professor. He was tough, but even though I took those classes over 30 years ago, I still know the periodic chart fairly well. He worked us hard, but he was fair with everyone. He was one of the best professors I have ever had. He was super intelligent and just a great guy. Especially when you'd get him talking about horses, he could talk about horses forever. He was one of the better ones. Another professor, Carl Wood, in the mechanical engineering program was a hands-on type of a guy. He might still be here, or it's just been a few years 4 ago that he left or retired. He could give you not just the theory of things, but the practical application of things. It was the same thing with Robert Parker. Dr. Parker was the type of professor that when you walked into the classroom and sat down, you'd have everything in front of you and a pencil in hand because the second he hit the door he was walking, talking and asking questions. By the time you realized what he asked, he would call you up to the board to explain the problem. You had to be on top of your game to stay with Dr. Parker. He was a great guy. RL: What did he teach? TV: He taught strength of materials, finite element analysis, and other classes within the mechanical engineering program. RL: You mentioned that while you were with Amalgamated Sugar, Mr. Bingham was a mentor for you. Was there a faculty member at Weber that took on that role when you came back as a student? TV: Some did in limited roles. Carl Wood was one and Bob Parker was another. There were others, but the names escape me right now. RL: You've mentioned several and obviously they made an impression, but sometimes somebody stands out more than others. TV: If anyone it would have to be Park Guymon. He was not in my major, but he taught me how to work hard, how to be prepared and how to think and rationalize things out. I have to tell you a story about a final exam I took from Park Guymon. I remember the final exam I was pumped, I was primed, I was ready. I walked in there and he handed me the test and I'd been studying and studying, but I 5 started down and went through a whole page and none of the questions looked familiar to me. I started to sweat. That's when you wish, "I hope the hole opens up and swallows me right now." I looked around and everybody has just got their head down and they're going. I thought, "I'm a dead man." Finally, on the second page, I found one that I knew. That started the process rolling. I took the full two hours to do that test. When I was done, I walked out to the parking lot on the east side of the science lab building and I couldn't find my car. I had no clue where that thing was. As I walked around I thought, "Oh my heck, somebody stole my car." It finally occurred to me that I had parked on the west side. I'll never forget that chemistry final as long as I live. RL: Did you finally go back and answer some of the things on the first page? TV: Oh yes. I got the ball rolling and I think I got a 92 or a 90 on that test. It was one of those feeling I've never had a feeling like that in my life—the "I am sunk" feeling. If anybody was a mentor I think it would be Park. I still see him to this day and I stop and say, "Hi," to him. His wife is absolutely wonderful, I remember her too. He is just a great guy. It's been all these years. RL: He's been mentioned to me by several people, not necessarily in interviews, but around different situations. Actually, one of my surgeons and another physician also had him as undergraduate students here at Weber State. You're right. They are delightful people. TV: I had a lot of professors, but he's the one that just stands out the most. Dr. Parker was from Chicago and he had kind of an accent. You'd ask him a question and he'd say, "Yea, yea, yea, yea." That was one of the more humorous 6 things. Then you'd take some of his exams and you'd think, "Oh my, the humor is over." Another one I had was Norman Smith. He taught thermodynamics and heat transfer. I remember Dr. Smith gave us take home exams. I had never had a take home exam before in my life. I thought, "Alright, we have a take home exam. I am living large. Life is going to be good." Of course, I postponed it and started working on it on a Sunday and we had class on Monday. I must have spent eight to ten hours working on that one exam. It was a total nightmare. I learned really fast about take home exams. I had a couple more and they lived up to the expectations. He was a very intelligent man. We did a lot of formula derivation. Back then I was thinking, "Okay, I really don't need to derive those formulas. Guys a lot smarter than me came up with them so they must have figured it out so I don't have to, right?" No. We went through them step-by-step. It got you thinking. Rather than thinking, "I need this class to get out of here." It got you thinking about the applications. He was a brilliant man. He didn't stay with us too long before he moved on. I think from every professor I had I took something with me. Carl Wood was just one of the nicest guys you ever want to be around. I remember in one class he had the class down to his house for a barbeque after the class was over just to treat us. He was very patient and was able to explain everything. I was able to use a lot of that on the job through the analysis type of thing. RL: So you were working full-time at that time? TV: Yes. RL: Were you able to take advantage of a tuition cut or anything? 7 TV: Back then we were on the quarter system and we'd get five credit hours free and 10 percent off at the bookstore. I remember my first drafting book I bought at the bookstore. I thought, "This is outrageous." It was this big, thick drafting book. I think it was $22.00. I about died. RL: That was a fortune at the time. TV: It was. Considering I was making about $2 an hour back then, so that gives you an idea. RL: What about on the work scene? You mentioned Folsom. Were there other people that functioned as mentors for you in the workplace? TV: I replaced a guy named Wayne Venable. Wayne had a heart attack and died rather suddenly. At the time, we only had about 7,200 students here. When I was hired in, there was me, Bob Folsom, and a guy named Fred Kendall. He (Fred) was the nicest guy I've ever run across in my life. Fred was the type of guy who would never speak an ill word about anybody. He was just that type of a personality. There was also a secretary and a student aid. That was it for the whole campus. They called it Campus Planning and Construction. As things grew and progressed we were able to hire more people. A lot of what I learned was from the guys in the shops. We were in the Architectural Services Department on one corner of the campus and the guys in the shop were up on the hill in what is now the Facilities Management Building. I tried to involve these guys in the shops especially in the practical applications. I could punch all the numbers in the world and I knew what had to happen and knew the design parameters of a particular piece of equipment. But, then you 8 start getting into installs and what actually makes it work and how to control it. That's when I started talking to the guys in the shops. I gravitated toward these people because they were very smart individuals and very good at their trade. I learned a lot of practical things from the people in the shops. There were guys that had been plumbers for 30 years and guys that had been electricians for about the same amount of time. They knew how everything was supposed to work. I learned a lot from those people. I also learned a lot from Division of Facilities Construction and Management inspectors. They were on the construction end and they managed most of our major projects on the campus like the new buildings and major remodels and things like that. RL: The things that we now have to contract out. TV: Yes. I just had a vast variety of influences on that. Bob was very much an architect and more of an artist. I remember I took a class in art and architecture. I remember Bob saying that if engineers designed all the buildings on campus, they would all look like boxes. They have to have an architectural element to them. Historically, engineer types and architecture types have clashed. The engineer types want mechanical rooms with all the space in the world, while architects say that's very valuable space that could go to other things. There's always this clash type of a thing, which leads me to my next step. In 1991, Weber State College became a university. I remember that quite well, they had quite the celebration. I moved from working for Bob and he said he was disappointed to lose me because I'd like to think I did a really good job. I did get a lot of compliments from the faculty. 9 RL: You had been here at least ten years by that time. TV: It's interesting because I only planned on spending four years. I knew when I had it good. It didn't take me too long to figure that out. Anyway, I went to work for Dave Maxson, who was the Director of Physical Plant. Dave was one of the nicest guys that ever walked the face of the earth. He had a hospital background. My job was to bridge the gap between the architectural side and the practical side. I knew both ends of the business. I think I was successful in doing a lot of that. When I was working for Bob Folsom, I got here right after the Dee Events Center was dedicated and the Engineering Technology building was dedicated the year after. The next building was the Wattis business building. We had so much trouble with that building from the operations and maintenance end. It had stacked fan systems so if you have something go wrong with one fan system you have to disassemble one to get to the other. It had very cramped and compact mechanical rooms. It was very impractical. It had great big cooling coils on the fan systems and you had to actually cut a hole in a wall to get the old coils out and the new ones in. Be it my influence or complaining or whatever you want to call it, I was the go-between. As the next building, student services, was to be built it was the first time we were actually involved in the planning process. I went to all the planning meetings and the construction meetings. Sometimes my suggestions weren't taken well and other times they were. It was a give and take kind of a thing, realizing that the architects had their point of view and the maintenance side had our point of view and we were trying to make those two 10 things mesh. Student Services was the first building that I was heavily involved in and it was a valuable learning experience. I learned a lot from a lot of people. I was able to temper my own feelings. That's when I learned how to realize the other person's point of view. I take a lot of pride in that one. RL: It's growing up. TV: Yes, that right. Of course, it served me well as my career progressed with personnel issues. I worked for Dave for about ten years. Back then, we had a Director of Architectural and Engineering Services, Director of Physical Plant, and we also had a Director of Electronic Systems and Repair whose name was Sid Jensen. I had one of these projects going on that we had to have his help on right away. I went down to explain my problem to him and Sid says, "I need all this paperwork filled out in quadruplicate. It has to be signed off by anybody and everybody and you're six weeks out to get the parts." He proceeded for about five minutes and I thought, "My gosh, I will never get this done." He finally talked himself down and says, "Oh okay, will this afternoon be okay?" Sid was the type of guy that had to get a chunk out of you. He had to do it and he loved it the entire time. Once you caught onto him, he had a heart of gold and he'd do anything in the world for you, but you'd have to endure it first. They did some studies across campus and they decided it didn't make a whole lot of sense to have three separate directors running three separate entities and they should all be working together. RL: You needed an umbrella to cover. 11 TV: That's right. They hired consultants to analyze our whole situation and that has evolved into what is called the facilities management department. Mike Perez was the guy that showed up on the scene. He came from SMU. They had a structure at SMU that was kind of what we were looking for, so Mike knew the ropes. He was quite a personality and you always knew when he was in the room. He was just the type that would attract people, very outgoing and a smart guy. He was a super sharp individual. We were used to the old ways of doing things and Mike started out by learning the ropes. He and his wife came from Texas. RL: When did he come here? TV: It must have been in 2000 that he came. RL: Is he still here? TV: No, he went on to the University of Utah. Anyway, I remember they were born and raised in Texas and I remember the day he got here we had an April 1st snowstorm. His wife had one of those big trench coats like what the football players wore with a hood. She was all huddled up and she looked like, "What in the world did Mike drag me into? The frozen tundra of Utah?" Their son, Michael, was out throwing snowballs and he thought it was the greatest thing. I'll never forget the look on his wife's face. Mike went through a whole series of meetings, planning sessions and mentoring and we evolved. RL: What was his title? TV: At the time, he was Director of Facilities Management. 12 We used manage this place by reacting. If there was a problem, we reacted. There wasn't anything that was planned as far as maintenance was concerned or anything preventive. We ran it until it broke and then we repaired it. We had limited resources and limited technology to enable us to start planning this. We had started our facilities management work order system just before Mike got here. The realization was that we needed to start planning better. I remember the old Maximo program that just basically generated work orders. Prior to that time, the work orders were scribbled on a piece of paper and we called whoever on the radio to go fix it. That was the extent of it. We started refining. He was only with us for about three years, but he made a lot of changes. He brought us all under the same umbrella. Don't get me wrong, there was resistance. To Mike's credit, he pulled it off. He's a high energy guy who would send emails at three in the morning or he'd be in Texas and send me emails. The University of Utah recruited him so that gives you an idea of the type of job he was doing for us. He replaced one of the legends down at the University of Utah, Randy Turpin. Randy even had a building named after him at the University of Utah. He was the Director of Physical Plant or Plant Operations. RL: They stole our person to improve their situation. TV: They had a void they needed to fill and they needed the right guy to do it. RL: What was your position under him? TV: I was the assistant director under Mike. When Dave Maxson, Bob Folsom and Syd Jensen all left within a short period, I assumed the role of the director. Dave had brought me along enough that I knew how things worked. I knew how the 13 budget worked and I was able to use that information that Dave gave me to manage that for quite a spell. It must have been six months or better before they hired Mike Perez. After Mike left, there was another long period because they couldn't find the right person for the job. We had interview after interview as the university was looking for the right person. I was managing the department during this time period also. RL: You mentioned that Kevin Hansen managed Air Force bases all over the world. Did we recruit him away from Hill Air Force Base or did he come in from elsewhere? TV: He retired from the Air Force. He'd managed Air Force bases in Anchorage, Alaska and Cape Canaveral, Florida. We're talking multi-million dollar budgets that he managed. He retired from the Air Force and ended up in Logan City Public Works. This was a long process that we went through. We had candidate after candidate showing up, but it was just not the right fit for us. The administration wanted the right person for that job. I remember the first time I met Kevin I thought, "Oh my gosh, a retired colonel, we're all in a boatload of trouble." We had several downloading sessions. He brought me under his wing more or less. We talked department-to-department and person-to-person about how we each saw things. We had several sessions of that. We were going to a conference in St. George and we talked the whole way there. Kevin saw things in an entirely new light than we were used to seeing. He said the first thing he noted was that the Administration Building had an old wooden sign. It was actually a metal sign framed with 4x4's and it was kind of leaning up against the west wall. 14 Those were the kinds of things he saw, but we had been seeing it all along so it was just part of the landscape for us. That's just one small example of what he saw. RL: Is that when we went through that major signage change all over the campus. TV: That's right. He wanted to turn this place into a first class organization. It wasn't without pain, don't get me wrong, because we had people that were pretty much entrenched, that could not see the light and resisted. You're bound to get resistance with any change. I remember back when we used to go down to the state surplus and get our service vehicles. By the time they hit state surplus, these things had been used to death. RL: 300,000 miles on a little truck. TV: Right. That's not outside the realm of possibility. We were trying to piece things together and it was a mish mash of things. We had an old Popsicle truck that the plumbers used. That's where we were at the time. Kevin was able to change that through budget management. You'll notice all the service vehicles now match. They're all in good shape and we rotate them. We don't have to worry that much anymore about them starting in the wintertime. That's just another example of the things he accomplished. RL: That relates back to some of the old Mike Perez thinking where you don't just react, you plan ahead. TV: That's right. It adds a professionalism that was lacking. At the loading dock at the facilities management building, we had a lineup of old beat up chairs that were scavenged from gosh knows where sitting on the dock out there. The guys would 15 go sit out there in the summertime. These things were worn out and beat up. We had a yard full of transformers that were taken out when we upgraded from 4160 volt to 12470 sitting out in the back lot. Our back lot was a junk yard. Kevin really drove the point home that this was not the way were going to run this facility. The chairs disappeared, the transformers disappeared and he was going to change this into a first-class organization. He asked me one day which section within facilities management I wanted to manage. I told him immediately that I am more in tune with the maintenance operations. That's how my job title got changed to Director of Plant Operations. I managed what they call skilled crafts like the electricians, the plumbers, the carpenters, the painters, and HVAC personnel. RL: The ones who would be licensed and certified in the outside world. TV: Right. I also oversaw energy management. I remember my first energy project when Dave Maxson was still here. It was in 1995. We got a grant from the state of Utah for changing light bulbs. We had T-12's and we were changing them to T-8's. There were all these people trying to promote certain things and that's where the analysis I performed came in. RL: What does T-12 and T-8 relate to? TV: These are florescent tubes that have two types of ballasts in them. They had the old magnetic ballasts and the new ones were electronic. That's when I started to get involved in the energy management end. It kind of got to be my passion. I did a lot of analysis of the wattage and the light levels to determine which was going to be the best. They had several different types out there at the time. People 16 were trying to promote T-10's and a primitive form of LED's. I finally had to make the decision while working with other engineers and the first building we changed to the new T-8's was the science lab building. That was the first building we retrofitted under this grant that we got from the Department of Energy for the state of Utah. The Lind lecture hall soon followed. At the time, Allied Health Science building phase one was already in place and they were looking at the Allied Health Sciences Building phase two. I had to convince architectural engineers and administrators that the T-8's were the best thing to put in the new health sciences building rather than the T-12's. I had to show them all the energy efficiency and so on. The numbers just really fell out and I was able to convince them to put the T-8's. The Allied Health Science building phase two was the first new campus building to have the T-8 florescent tubes in it. RL: Then you went around and retrofitted the other buildings. TV: That's right, over time. We still stumble into the T-12's sometimes, but pretty much all of them are now T-8's. RL: The experience you had with that is what led to your part-time position that you took on after retirement. TV: Bingo. RL: That's energy analysis? TV: Yes. I'm the Utility and Energy Analyst now. I do the fun stuff. I tell everybody my story and say that I basically went from four meetings a day down to one or two a 17 week, which suits me just wonderfully. I think I got away from my passion when I got promoted up. RL: We've gotten a picture of how you've progressed through your work career here on campus. You said you grew up here in Ogden, do you have early memories of Weber prior to coming here as a student? I know people talk about Weber and I'm sure at that time were referring to it as Harrison High School, kind of looking down their nose. After people get here they have a whole different perspective on things. I've also spoken to some people who remember running around on the campus and sledding down the hills when we got snow. What are your early memories of the campus? TV: My brother graduated from the old Weber College down on 25th Street. I remember the Moench building. I couldn't have been any more than five or six years old when he graduated. I remember the gym especially because of all the ramps going up to the spectator area. It was so fun for a five of six year old kid to go running down those ramps. RL: Was that the building down by the public library? TV: Yes, that's was old Moench building. It was a very striking building. I'm sure you've seen pictures of it. My best friend, Brent, used to live near me on 28th Street just below Harrison and moved right across the street from the current university site. There used to be a big white two story building at the front of campus at about 3400 South. It had a pond out in the front that had little mosquito fish and goldfish in it. We'd sneak in there at night and try to catch them, but were very unsuccessful at that. 18 RL: It sounds like they were the kind of thing that even if you had caught them you couldn't do anything with them. TV: We couldn't, but we were kids and we didn't think too far ahead. I remember the old married student housing on the west side of the Browning Center where the visual arts building is now. Another friend of mine had a sister that lived in there with her husband back in 1963 or 1964. I've had a long association with Weber State. RL: You've been here as a student and as an employee under quite a few different presidents on campus. I would imagine that when you came President Miller was still here? TV: President Miller was still here, but he was no longer president. He was still very much a presence. I was working for Bob Folsom as a draftsman and this gentleman came through and stopped by to talk to me and wanted to know how it was going. I didn't know this guy. He just seemed like a pretty cool guy. RL: Was he president when you came as a student? TV: Yes he was, but I didn't know him personally. I remember President Miller and his wife also. They were just the sweetest people you ever want to be around. After he came through that day, I went to Bob Folsom and asked, "Who's that guy that just came through?" He said, "Oh, that's President Miller." The president's home at the time was right at the top of 4100 South. It is office space for the athletics department now. His wife lived there. I met her and got to know her better when I was working for Dave Maxson. She was just the most wonderful person you ever want to be around. She was very appreciative of 19 anything you could do for her. She would bring us treats up at the office every once in a while when I worked for Dave. She would just stop by with donuts or cookies as a note of appreciation for what we did. RL: Each administration had its own flavor, doesn't it? When you started working here it would have been President Bishop? TV: I came right after President Bishop left. President Brady was the first president that I worked under. I got to know him and his wife somewhat. They had a home here on Edgehill Drive. The college bought it off the market, but it needed some renovations. I was put in charge of the renovations, so I got to meet with President Brady. One thing about President Brady, he had a closet full of blue suits. Every time I saw him he was wearing a blue suit. His rationale was that it was one less decision he had to make in the course of a day. I worked with his wife, Mitsy, quite a bit. She was a wonderful lady. She was highly appreciative and a very classy lady. RL: You actually were in a position where you interacted with them at their home and not just on campus. TV: That's right. RL: Any particular incidents that you remember with that home? TV: President Brady liked to play basketball and I remember we put a basketball court in his backyard. I made all the drawings and our carpenters did all the form work and poured the concrete. That was one of the more notables. We made some changes to the lighting and landscaping over there that she appreciated. I 20 was able to work with them at their own home which is one of the little perks of my job. RL: I've heard a lot of stories about his walking around the campus knowing a lot of the students, and of his interaction with the faculty. Was he just as approachable for the staff? TV: I was nervous about approaching people like the president who was really up there when I was just a lowly draftsman at the time. I was hesitant to approach him. I remember he had signs all over campus. He would write his thoughts and put them on signs and put them around campus. That was another little thing that he did. He was a very nice man, but very formal. I interacted much better with his wife who was less formal. My interactions with him were strictly on little projects. RL: After he left, we would have had President Nadauld. He was also fairly formal, wasn't he? TV: At times. I've got to tell you a funny story about President Nadauld. This was before the Stromberg Center was built. We used to have faculty-staff basketball leagues at the old Swenson Gym. President Nadauld was very competitive and he loved basketball, but he is not all that big of a man. At the time, I was about my present size. I was in better shape, but I was a pretty good-sized boy. Anyway, we were playing basketball with teams and I went out to set a pick. President Nadauld ran into me and then hit the floor. I went about as white as your sweater. I thought, "Oh my gosh, I just decked the president." I thought my employment was over, but he actually got up and he smiled about it. He said, "Nice pick." There's still a guy on campus that will never let me forget that. His 21 name is Mike Whetton, and every time I see him, to this day, he reminds me of the time I decked President Nadauld. We used to have fishing derbies at the campus in the pond. Physically challenged kids would show up and we'd plant fish in the upper pool and the guys from physical plant would go down and help these kids catch fish. You'd see these kids that are confined to wheelchairs who would just light up with their first fish. It was so rewarding to witness that. It was an annual thing with President Nadauld. After he left, the derbies pretty much died off. I really thought that President Nadauld was a very personable individual. I appreciated what he did, especially with that fishing derby. That was an indicator of what the man was really like. He was very compassionate and just a good man all the way around. RL: He was president when I arrived here. From my perspective, I didn't approach him because he was the president. There were a couple of times when we interacted and he really wasn't unapproachable, it's just what you build into the position. When he left, we got Paul Thompson. He made a lot of changes on campus and had more of an emphasis on recruitment and diversity issues in terms of expanding the faculty and bringing in more people of color. I don't know if that began with President Nadauld, but I know that there were internships that he and Bob Smith made possible for faculty members and there was more emphasis for students. The campus face has changed in terms of the student population with more international students and Asian, Latino, and African American students. What have you seem in terms of the makeup of the staff? 22 Since you have worked with people on the staff in different buildings, did you notice any particular changes as far as diversity when we started having the push on campus? TV: Not so much immediately. I was on the construction end. One of my favorite people on this campus is Forrest Crawford. RL: Absolutely. TV: He is absolutely the greatest guy I have ever met in my life. RL: He started out here as a football player. TV: That's right. I'm going to digress further. There was a guy here, Darnell Haney, who used to play football for the Oakland Raiders, who came from Utah State. I knew Darnell because I was coaching little league football at the time in Washington Terrace and I coached his son. That's how I got to know Darnell. I remember I was doing a project in the union building and I was talking to Lynn Kraaima when I noticed his eyes kind of shift. At the time, there was a promotion going across campus about a new club and restaurant opening up in town called Bigfoot's. Anyway, I looked at Lynn kind of funny and then this great big furry paw hit my shoulder. I turned around and the most enormous creature I've ever seen in my life in a Bigfoot costume had ahold of me. It was Darnell Haney. I think I set the world record for the standing high jump thanks to Darnell. I wasn't directly involved in the diversity effort, but I reaped the benefits by getting to know these people. RL: What were the changes that you noticed that were brought about? 23 TV: That is a hard one for me because I had the benefit of getting to know the people that got hired here, some of the guys I think back on like Henry Yamaguchi who worked up there. RL: I just wondered if you saw a difference in the face of the staff. TV: I'd have to stop and think about that because I didn't really pay much attention to it. To me they were just good guys and that's what matters. One of the better interactions I've had. I love to work out at the gym and I lift a lot of weights up there and I love interacting with the student athletes. These young men and women are about as fine a people you'll ever meet in your life. I love to talk to people and getting to know these student athletes has been one of the more amazing experiences in my life. I have people stop me that I don't recognize and they say, "I work out at the gym, we talk about this and this." I've got to tell you a story about Fine Unga. He used to be a running back under Mike Price. I've seen him around for years. He looks like he could still play. One of his relatives, I think it was his nephew, was BYU's all-time leading rusher, Harvey Unga. I've been a Chicago Bears fan since I was a little kid. I just mentioned it to Fine and asked if it was a relative of his who got drafted by Chicago. We got to talking and I mentioned to him that one of the things on my bucket list is to go back to Bears Stadium to see a Bears game. Later on, said to me, "Well, if Harvey makes the team, we'll go back and see a game." I just spaced it off again and then he brought me a hat that said, "Number 45, Harvey Unga." I said, "What is up with this?" He said, "Harvey made the team." I said, "Wow, that's cool!" He said, "You pick the game and we'll go back." 24 RL: Did you get seats on the sideline? TV: We are going back on August 15, 2013 to see the Bears game at the Chicago Stadium versus the San Diego Chargers. One of the other notables was Frank Otis who played basketball for us. I'd be out and about and he'd stop me and I'd get to know him. RL: Did you get to play basketball with Damien? You couldn't pull a pick on him. TV: Damien's about five leagues ahead of me. He'd probably jump over the top of me. There again, Damien is another fine man. I was in a meeting and Kyle Tresnack stopped me because he recognized me. Bonnie and I are the ones with the towels behind the basket and we wave them at the opposing players when they're trying to make free throws. He picked up on that. The things you pick up on and just these wonderful experiences, you cannot put a price tag on them. It's just part of the overall experience up here. RL: With Thompson, there was an era when we started having more strategic planning on campus, which falls in line with what you were seeing in facilities management. I don't know if the two are related or if it was just individuals that happened to be working on the same kinds of things. After President Thompson, we got Ann Milner, who is very highly thought of and I have not heard of anyone who was not sad to see her step down. TV: I am among those. I've known President Milner for a long time. I knew her when she was working for continuing education. Right after she became president here in about 2004 or 2005, we had a request from her to tour the infrastructure of the campus. She was very interested in the infrastructure of the campus wanted to 25 go see the chilled water plant, and the heat plant, and wanted to go through the tunnels. I didn't know quite how to take this. Kevin Hansen assigned me to take President Milner on a tour. RL: Through all the mole holes on the campus? TV: Some of the places I'd say, "President Milner, you really don't want to go down here." She's the only one that wanted to know how this place worked and what the infrastructure was like. We didn't have any centralized air conditioning on this campus until 1968. They put two lithium bromide steam powered absorption chillers in the basement of the science lab building. As the campus grew, we had to add another central chiller. It was our first centrifugal that was installed in a separate vault way below basement grade on the south end of the science lab building. Once we got the new electric powered centrifugal in place, we abandoned the old absorption chillers which were a maintenance nightmare because they were old and antiquated. RL: It's like the difference between air conditioning and swamp coolers. TV: Pretty much. The absorbers were an energy hog, very inefficient, troublesome, and a constant maintenance issue. The centrifugal at the time was a 1250 ton carrier and it pretty much took care of the campus. We're talking the early 1980's. The campus continued to grow and expand and we were running that chiller for all it was worth. We had no redundancy. We didn't have a backup plan if that chiller went down. I remember on a July 4th weekend in the late 1990's, the central campus chiller went down. At the same time, we had a stand-alone unit at 26 the Browning Center, which was installed during construction in the late 1960's that went down on the same day. This was July 4th weekend, we had two chillers down and we had nowhere to turn. We couldn't get anyone up here because people were out of town. We finally got ahold of someone from Carrier Corporation and he worked on the central chiller throughout most of the weekend. The Browning Center chiller was 24 feet down and it had two lines, one is the chilled water line that goes to the building and the other is the condensing line which goes to the cooling towers. The ground shifted and sheered the condenser lines, so we started digging. We had to bring in great big track hoes and we just started digging and digging. When we got down there we ran across all these cables that were sagging. Those were the feeder cables to the transformers in the basement. We had to get electricians up here to take care of that. In the meantime, we struck hardpan and hit groundwater and the basement of the Browning Center started to flood. You wonder how many things could go wrong with that project. Scott Jensen was the director of the Browning Center and had events scheduled. Needless to say, he was pretty anxious to get this done. An employee named Destry Labrum and I tried to line up electricians and anybody we could find. I lived here for two or three days until we got that done. I hardly slept at all. I remember telling Destry that the sweetest sound I've ever heard in my life was that central campus chiller. There was a reason we used to have earphones right there at the door. That thing was a high pitched screamer. 27 At that time, I thought that that old carrier finally getting back online was the prettiest sound I've heard in my life. It underscored the whole idea that if we lose a chiller, we're dead in the water. That started the process rolling. In the meantime, we were doing a make-do kind of thing. We took out the old absorption chillers and we kept adding new chillers, but I did a lot of studies, which showed that we were still running out of capacity. The campus was growing faster than what we could keep up with and what we could support. I think that was part of the reason why President Milner wanted to see what was going on. I explained to her everything that we were doing. I even took her down to the vault with the old screamer and we both had our hands over our ears. We needed more capacity and redundancy in our plant. RL: She was very successful in her time in getting funding for new buildings and for remodeling on campus. We had Elizabeth Hall… TV: There was some visionary stuff going on with Vice President Simkins. He could see the need, so the cooling towers were in place before we got the central plant. President Milner was successful in convincing people to support the new chilled water plant. We're talking 5 or 6 million dollars. Now, we have full redundancy. We are totally backed up. If we lose a chiller, we have total back up. Same with the heat plant. RL: We'll continue as we get the funding for the new science building. TV: That's right. We have capacity there to handle it. RL: Were you around during the construction of the science buildings or was that already in place? 28 TV: The science lab constructed before I arrived as part of the major building boom on campus, which happened between 1968 and 1972. RL: So you would have been here as a student? TV: I would have been here as a student. As a matter of fact, I took classes from Park Guymon and we had our labs in the science building. RL: You'll come full circle because now they will get a new building. TV: That is a good thing. Honestly, the science labs have been a maintenance nightmare for us. Back then, the way they used to fireproof everything was with that spray-on asbestos. We have to be careful because they can't do a lot in that building without removing the asbestos first. We can't even work on things. It's old and worn out. A lot of the components, like the exhaust fans on the roof, you can't get parts for anymore because they don't make them. We have to buy brand new exhaust fans with a little bit of a different configuration and adapt them to keep the building operational. RL: You described President Milner as very much hands-on from the ground up. I would imagine that having that type of an administrator makes life a little easier for facilities management operations. That area did not report directly to the president, it always reported to a vice president, is that correct? TV: That's correct. RL: You just mentioned Vice President Al Simkins. Was there someone else in his place prior to his arrival that you remember? Were there influences on facilities management? 29 TV: The first vice president I remember really well was Dr. Folger who was a very personable type of guy and a very intelligent individual and he was very approachable. Even being a lowly draftsman, I was able to talk to him on a limited basis. I was very rank conscious, but he was very approachable. He came from the business end of things and had a doctorate in business. I wasn't here too many years when Dr. Folger retired. RL: Did he come in from faculty? TV: He came in from faculty I believe. He could have been an academic dean. After that was Dr. Jerry Story. I didn't interact with Dr. Story very much. Bob Folsom interacted with him quite a bit as far as anything to do with the campus. I didn't really know the man very well. He seemed like he was a nice enough guy and he'd talk to you, but I wasn't able to interact with him on a one-on-one basis. After that it was Dr. Simkins. RL: He was here for quite a while. TV: Until Dr. Tarbox showed up. RL: That would have been about 2005. With Al Simkins, you mentioned earlier that he had been interested in setting the plan in place to prevent catastrophes and to plan ahead for some redundancy and so forth. TV: Dr. Simkins was the visionary. He could see what was coming down the pike and saw the need to combine his departments. He saw what had to happen and was able to implement that. I was able to interact with Dr. Simkins through one of my all-time favorite people named Craige Hall. RL: Who became vice president over there in 1991. 30 TV: Yes, he was the associate vice president, I believe. I knew Craige when he was the director of the library here. We did some remodeling projects. He was one of the most approachable and fun guys I've ever been around, a super golfer who was terrific. We had a lot in common and he was very approachable. I just can't say enough good things about Craige Hall. RL: He was the director of the library for twenty something years and also happened to be put over the computer center. I believe when he went to the vice president's office, they moved the computer center so that it was still under him. He had quite a variety of things. He had physical plant, all of the budget and financial stuff, the athletes and the NCAA relationships and all of the facilities things. You just thought you went to a lot of meetings. TV: I remember when Craige got appointed to what we called mahogany row on the third floor. My previous dealings with certain faculty members that had been promoted to that level had not been very good. I got the feeling that once they were promoted to that level that they became very rank conscious. I didn't know what to expect when I had my first meeting with Craige Hall in his new office. I was kind of sitting at attention and he looked at me kind of funny and said, "Thomas, how the hell are you?" I said, "Fine." I guess I still didn't loosen up enough because he took his shoes off and put his feet on the desk and said, "Well, take your shoes off, put your feet up, let's talk about things." It just put me at ease. We were able to interact in that manner, keeping in mind that he's still at vice president level and I'm not, but he had that way of putting you at ease and he'd listen to you and address your concerns. He was every bit a manager who 31 could bring people together. Define the term "manager," that would be Craige Hall. I got to know his wife, Deanna, very well also. She was a wonderful person too. Those two matched up so well. I remember some of the stories Craige would tell me about the younger days when he was running for student body president of high school and some of the things they did like an airplane drop with all these leaflets. They got in trouble for that for all the litter they were throwing out of airplanes. Some of the stories that he would tell were just absolutely wonderful. I was able to interact very well with Craige Hall. He's a great guy. Vice President Tarbox was without a doubt one of the smartest individuals I've ever been around. He is extremely intelligent. RL: He didn't come in from faculty, he came in from outside. TV: That's right. He came in from the Board of Regents. We always called him Norm from the Board of Regents. You found out early on that if you have a meeting with Norm, you better have all your ducks in a row and be able to answer any question that he could throw at you. He's very detailed and highly intelligent, but he was kind of pressing the need for the new chilled water plant and later on the new boiler addition in our heat plant to replace the two worn out boilers. Both of the boilers were over 50 years old. On the facilities side, he was very much the visionary. No doubt, Craige had some influence there. RL: You had Simkins who laid all the ground work. 32 TV: He did lay all the groundwork. Norm was able to take over and run with it. Our whole energy management program as we see it was championed by Norm. RL: Okay, that's been the era that we've been in for the last few years with this ongoing green project and so forth. TV: Actually, the revolving loan fund. He championed this idea. We hired a young man as an energy manager, Jake Cain, who ended up working for me. He undertook this project to prove to administration that conserving energy and revolving and taking the energy savings and reinvesting it in the institution was actually a good idea. I remember he presented that to Norm and it's something I'd been pressing for years to get a portion of our energy savings to reinvest in new energy products. We basically proved to Norm that we were getting a much higher rate of return on our investment through energy savings than we were in any other investment that the university had at the time. Norm championed that whole idea and we now have other universities coming to us and asking, "How did you do that?" That's the type of visionary he was. He still is as a matter of fact. I think the world of Norm. He and Craige are wonderful. Every once in a while I run across Simkins in the grocery store and of course my wife, Bonnie, knows everybody. RL: She was in Human Resources for a while, wasn't she? TV: Yes, that's right. At one time she was working with the football team under Dave Arslanian. She was in charge of all the travel arrangements and had to feed the athletes and things like that. These are 18 or 19-year- old kids that have never been away from home before and she was kind of the team mom. I met her in 33 1990 when she was working for Sam Zeveloff. She went from Sam to football, and then went to work for Nandi in Student Affairs. She worked for Jan Winneford for a while and then went to Human Resources. As a consequence, she knows everybody on this campus. My standing joke when it comes to Bonnie is, "People know me not as Tom, but as Bonnie's husband." My real name is Bonnie's Husband Van Cleave. I kid her a lot about that. I could carry on about Bonnie, but that's not part of this here. We just have so much fun together. RL: Well, she's part of the campus history too. TV: She is. Absolutely. She was my gift. She keeps me grounded and we get along so wonderfully. RL: In your working with buildings and construction around campus and so forth, you probably also had involvement with some of the deans and the different colleges. Anyone in particular that had an impact? TV: Warren Hill. I enjoyed working with Warren. RL: Warren Hill who is kind of grounded came here from Pueblo, Colorado and he got here in the early nineties. TV: Right. I got to know Warren. I still see him on occasion. He's one of the greatest guys and super smart, very analytical. We got along pretty well. He was very influential and he has the type of personality that you go out of your way to try to help him out. People just gravitate to him. He's very outgoing and just a great person to be around. My interaction with other deans has not been that extensive. RL: We had some long-term people like Dean Sadler over in social sciences. 34 TV: I took a class with Dean Sadler right after he got here. I think he got here in 1968. I've known Dr. Sadler since forever ago and he's just another one of those great individuals. I interacted with him quite a bit. He was super charismatic and a great individual. He'd appreciate anything you could do for him and he'd listen to you. RL: They had some major problems in the social science building. TV: We had several problems in that building, which was built in the sixties We had insect infestations. I know that. We tried re-caulking and that building was another constant battle for us. The infrastructure is very dated. We also had heating and air conditioning problems. RL: I was thinking about the leaky roof. TV: Yes, we did have roof leaks. That building is an old building and it's in need of a total renovation. It's been a nightmare for us. RL: Was that one of the first major buildings on this campus? TV: Yes, it was built in that time period between 1968 and 1970. I do a lot of analysis of these buildings and there was a big building boom on this campus that took place between 1968 and 1973. The whole north end of the campus was totally torn up at that time. The education building was built soon thereafter. I remember seeing a campus master plan at one time and there was supposed to be a skyway bridge between the social science building and the education building. You can still see where it was supposed to be, especially on the social science building. On the second floor, midway on the east side of the building, there are some glass panels that don't quite match up with the rest of them. At one time 35 they were double doors. We finally realized that the sky bridge was not going to be built, so there was a remodeling project to get rid of those double glass doors. We've had our share of leaky roofs. Right after Mike Perez got here, we had one of those canyon winds that was super bad. We lost a lot of roofs that day. Perez and I went to the top of the stadium to see what the damage was. We were out there hanging on for dear life watching the roof of the Allied Health Science Building disappear. RL: That building was fairly new. TV: Yes, at that time it was fairly new. I also remember all of our campus roofs had to be red. They had the tar and gravel build up type of roof made with what they call Red Scoria, which is lava rock. Canyon winds tend to pick those things up and make unguided missiles out of them. We replaced a lot of windshields after that windstorm. RL: Broken windshields of the employees? TV: Students and employees had broken windshields from the flying Red Scoria, especially in the A-1 parking lot. The social science building had that Red Scoria roof as did administration. As we started replacing roofs, we started the single ply roofs. That's what started the process rolling. We still had to have red because those were the campus standards at the time. I have a confession. The first white roof on this campus is on the science lab building. I was responsible for that project and I picked white. RL: Were you thinking of heating? 36 TV: Absolutely. I was thinking about the air conditioning and the reflection of that roof in the summertime. I kind of violated the campus standard and I don't know if Bob Folsom realized that or not. Anyway, that is my confession. RL: They can't get you for it now. TV: They can't come after me. Now we are all going with cool roof as our standard. The Stromberg Center roof is being replaced now. I think the Browning Center still has the Red Scoria roof on it as does student services. RL: When the student union building was remodeled and added to, was the roof changed then? TV: That's right. That was built with the cool roof concept. There are a lot of lighting innovations and a lot of variable frequency drives in there. In a nutshell, rather than a big fan system with a 100 horsepower motor that ramps up right away, when you hit the switch, the variable frequency drives allow you to ramp up slowly to avoid sudden starts and a big spike in your energy consumption. That's hard on the motor, the bearings, the belts and you name it. There are two different ways that we're billed for energy. First, is our consumption in kilowatt hours and second, is our demand in kilowatts. When you get a big spike on an electric motor and you've got them all coming on within a certain timeframe, your bill goes up. The variable frequency drives are now our standard. We started incorporating those in the late 1990's. Another great energy saving feature of VFD's is that they provide us with the ability to run our fan systems at a reduced percentage of total load, depending upon the demands of the building. 37 RL: I would imagine those white roofs have made quite a bit of difference in reflection. TV: Absolutely. We have done so many things and those cool roofs have definitely paid off. RL: You've been here long enough that you were here to deal with that rounded cover that we had over the library. We used to watch when the wind came up and it would be moving and buckling. TV: Are you talking about the skylight? RL: Yes. TV: I remember having to replace that. There was a wind storm and we had the guys from the carpenter shop throwing ropes and cables on trying to tie it down and doing anything we could do to keep that thing from getting airborne. Of course, it was tearing up the roof all the way around it. RL: We made sure we didn't have to walk from wing to wing in there because we didn't know if the roof would disappear and you'd get sucked out too. TV: It was all hands on deck trying to save that skylight. It's one of those things where it's put in place and you don't know what the consequences are going to be until you get a severe event like some of those that we had. There have been some innovations that have failed us. The Dee Events Center was built with an epoxy type of a roof. It was a much different configuration than what you see on the roof now. RL: Epoxy like super glue? 38 TV: Yes. They'd just build it up and coat it in fiberglass and epoxy. The downside is that it was not exactly proven technology at the time, and after a while the combination of all the elements the thing started to peel and we had leaks in the Dee Events Center. The roof looked terrible. It looked like a giant hamburger bun. Through the process of evolution, we ended up with the roof that we have now. It was one of those things that didn't work out very well for us. Sometimes learning experiences come hard and that was one of them. RL: We've progressed through the different buildings. We had the student services building and Elizabeth Hall which is a little bit different. You said that we got away from the campus standard when we got away from the red roof. What about a standard as far as bricks or building colors? TV: Actually, that is still in effect. The brick color is called golden buff. That's our campus standard brick and you see it everywhere. RL: Except the business building. How did that happen to turn out the way it did? TV: That was a sore spot with Bob Folsom. We had a dean at the time that wanted something unique. RL: What year would that have been? TV: That would have been about 1980 or 1982. It was one of the first major buildings built after I arrived on campus. I remember Bob Folsom was very upset about the glass, but Sterling Sessions forced that issue through. He was a very forceful individual and he was determined that he was going to have his way and he got it. It was a major sore spot with Bob Folsom that he was able to do that. There 39 are still some elements on that building that are the standard brick, but it isn't pronounced. RL: At that time, the glass building would have been the trend, wouldn't it? TV: Correct, but Bob was the architect and everything had to match. The student service building is also somewhat innovative with the exposed concrete and things like that. The architect's name was Astel Erickson. I was involved in that building. We had some nightmares in the student services building too. From an energy standpoint, it was highly inefficient. We have all these great big high intensity discharge lighting. They are 175 watt HID and 250 HID and they were pointed upward through a skylight so that people could enjoy the ambience at night. I remember fighting him about that. They're up there 24 feet and I wondered how in the world we were going to change those light bulbs. I was basically told that was a maintenance problem. So, we just let them burn out. That was our energy efficiency. It no longer shines up to the skylight in the middle of the night. I never saw the architect drive by too often to see that. He was the same architect that did the Allied Health Science Building phase one. We had a lot of leaks in that building from the sloped glass. You'd get a pinhole and it'd start to work, but the wind would make it move and it would leak. We've done that about three times to try and keep the leaks out and it still leaks. It's just inherent in that type of structure. RL: The new dorms have normal windows and no big glass feature. It looks as though the new Stromberg addition is going to have a lot of glass. Is that going to 40 have a lot of glass in an open area? What will that do in terms of glass facing toward the west as far as requiring more air conditioning because of the heat with the late afternoon sun? TV: Remember when I was saying that if engineers built everything they'd all look like Wal-Marts? That building was kind of an ugly building and it needed some help. It was not a very welcoming building. I see both sides of the equation. West facing glass is an energy manager's nightmare, but you have to be sensitive to the overall picture of things. That building is going to be spectacular. They've done everything they can as far as minimizing the impact on the HVAC. We have the low emissivity glass that is going to be throughout. The sun shining through is still going to have an impact, but we're trying to minimize that impact. RL: Has it grown as the project has progressed? TV: No, this was from square one. RL: Was it? The early drawings that we had seen, it was a much smaller approach and it was really just going to be an entryway. Now it looks like major facilities are being added. TV: It's funny you should mention that because I kind of picked up on that myself. From the conceptual drawings that I saw, this has grown. I'm not in the project management end anymore, so I'm not sure how this evolved. It is going to be a big addition. RL: Now you're doing the energy analysis, not necessarily having anything to do with construction? 41 TV: Yes. I do a lot of energy analysis and scheduling of our buildings. We waste a lot of energy at night because the lights are on and nobody is home. The building automatic and control is a complex system where all the buildings are tied into our central automation center. Of course, we have controllers, wires, panels, and variable frequency drives in all of our fan systems so there are a lot of things that can go wrong. Part of my job is to look at all the spikes in consumption. I get read outs as often as I want to download them. I can see all the spikes in consumption and I figure out what is causing the spike or the increase in the loads in a specific building. We are soon going to be able to meter every building on this campus for electricity, chilled water, steam, water, domestic water, and natural gas, but to do that we have to have all of these meters installed. They all have to have certain set points and parameters to set them. Another part of my job is to dig out all of the information for a particular building and what it requires so they can adjust the control set points to the demands of the building. RL: While you're working on this project, have you been able to find things that have required big changes that you were able to influence? TV: We've made a lot of big changes. Have you been to Dee Events Center lately? RL: Not lately. TV: The primary responsibility for this belongs to Jake, but I'm kind of a sounding board too. That kid is smart. Don't tell him I said that, okay? In the Dee Events Center arena, we had forty-something 1500 watt HID lamps. Including the ballasts that were probably pulling at least 2,000 watts a piece. Multiply that by forty-something and all of a sudden you've got a big electricity load and also a 42 big heat load because of the heat coming off the bulbs. The amount of light you get off an incandescent light bulb is about 10 or 15 percent of the actual energy input and the rest is all heat. That gives you an idea of what goes on at the top of that dome where all the heat rises anyway. We're using all LED's now. I give the credit to Jake for this one. RL: That's quite a bit cooler, isn't it? TV: Absolutely, and it's reduced the load on our chilled water plant. Plus, they're so quiet. The humming from the bulbs is gone. The first time I was in there I thought, "My gosh, it's quiet in here and all the lights are on." It's one of those side benefits from an operations perspective. We had so much trouble with those ballasts on those HID lamps. The heat was killing them and we were replacing some pretty high priced ballasts on a frequent basis as well as the light bulbs. Those LED's are supposed to last for about 20 years or some phenomenal number. It cuts back on the maintenance burden. This is a win-win. We actually had engineers show up to see how we did it. We had the University of Utah show up and ask how we did it. We have people calling us from all over the nation asking how we did it and they want to come see it. Needless to say, that makes Kevin Hansen just delighted. One of his goals was that he wanted people to come to Weber State and see what we're doing, rather than us going to them to see what they're doing. RL: You save travel money. TV: Absolutely. Plus, it puts us on the map. It's one of those really neat things that we're doing. Have you seen all the solar panels on the roof of the Swenson 43 Building? That supplies all the hot water for the swimming pool. It's almost a freebie. It cuts back on spending for natural gas. RL: Well, it cuts back on the whole global warming thing as well. TV: Absolutely, anything we can do. We've also seen a huge savings from our central chilled water plant. We send water out of the chilled water plant at 44 degrees. It goes down the campus through the pipes and goes to all the buildings and it comes back to us at about 56 degrees. When it hits the building, you don't want 44 degree air coming out of the registers, so we temper it by running a boiler. It hits the reheat coils which are supplied by hot water. So, basically, we're cooling off all this air and then heating it up at the room level. There's something wrong with this picture. So, when we had to shut down our central steam system for the new boiler installation, we thought, "Let's use this opportunity to accomplish several things, like some much needed repairs in our tunnel system and raise the set point on our chilled water plant to where we are now pushing down 54 to 55 degree water, and let's see what happens." Last year, we hit one million dollars in savings over our base year by doing just that. Rocky Mountain Power has kind of a love-hate relationship with us. They've built new plants to supply us, but we're saving a lot of energy and a lot of money for the campus. Those are the fun things that we get to do. I remember Jake telling me that, after we raised the set-point on our chillers, Rocky Mountain Power sent their technicians to our sub-station on two separate occasions to verify that the meter was working properly. The energy savings were that substantial. 44 We're working on projects now where I'm still identifying each individual fan system and scheduling when it runs and how often we should change the filters from both an energy perspective and an operational cost savings perspective. It takes more energy to push air through a dirty filter than it does a clean one. We still have to maintain a certain quality of air coming through our campus. I think we overachieve in that aspect. We're using a Merv-13 filter, to replace the old Merv-8. The rating has to do with the amount of particles that are trapped. The higher the number, the more particles you trap. With these Merv- 13's we're able to maintain the air quality and we only have single stage filters instead of two-stage filters to do the same thing. We're saving money on the operations end and by changing them on a regular basis we save energy. You make it a win-win situation for everybody. The customer is happy and we're happy. We're saving money from not only energy, but from our operations maintenance budget. RL: I was going to ask you if we are making enough power that it does not have to be purchased by Rocky Mountain. TV: We're not to that point yet. We have several proposals in the works. Right now between the Davis campus and the union building, we might be at 8 percent of our total usage. We have plans in the works for Davis in particular. There's a lot of wide open space out there. It's in the planning stages and we're running the numbers to see if we can fund it. We want to generate at least 40 percent of our energy consumption for the Davis. This is in the future. That's what keeps me hanging around and showing up to see what happens next. 45 RL: Could you have windmills? TV: We're thinking about that. The permitting is a nightmare. I think a guy at the mouth of Weber Canyon found that out the hard way that it's a nightmare. You have to have a certain velocity of wind. The mouth of the canyon is really high velocity wind. RL: It can't be sporadic. It has to be steady. TV: You don't want this thing to get airborne on you. It has to be somewhat constant wind flow rather than in the morning the wind blows like heck at the mouth of the canyon and it dies off in the afternoon. I don't know if Davis has the velocity. There are a whole bunch of studies that we have to do. RL: Solar panels are good anyway. TV: Solar panels are great. The cost is coming down and the efficiency is going up and that's why I bought them for my house. I'm looking at a four to five year payback on my investment with all of the tax incentives and rebates applied. They become more and more viable all the time. It's also a good recruiting tool. Students show up and they see the solar panels everywhere. The new generation is thinking green and they pick up on these things. It's a recruitment tool, an energy efficiency tool, and it cuts down on the wear and tear on our equipment. RL: Earlier you talked about people who mentored you over the years. Have you had opportunities to pay it forward? TV: I try and take every opportunity. We have a bunch of young guys up there. RL: A lot of enthusiasm, but you have to curb it a little bit, don't you? 46 TV: I'm able to mentor these young guys and show them the how and the why. Jake is to the point now that he can fly on his own. He knows about the politics and how to get things done. I'm still kind of a sounding board and we discuss things. In my many years there, we had a lot of people who were content to complain about their position in life, but didn't want to do anything about it. I remember one young man that used to work for me. He came to me and told me that he wants my job. I said, "Okay, well here's what you have to do." I started laying it out for him and said, "You need your degree and you already have one of those, but the next person that sits in my chair will have a master's degree." His response was, "I can't do that." I said, "If you still want my job, this is the way you're going to have to get it." He decided not to go back to school and all I heard were his reasons why not rather than, "I can do that." The person who took over in my position has a master's degree. It has become more prevalent in what is now a profession thanks to Mike Perez and Kevin Hansen. It is now a profession, not just a bunch of maintenance guys in bib overalls. RL: It's not an internship. TV: That's right. We have some bright young guys coming up. There's a young plumber up there named Dustin. He's a real character in his own right. He wants to know how things work. He's planning his future, he's taking classes, and he's getting his degree. I have an electrician who is the same way. They can see what they have to do to succeed. RL: It's not just hands-on, it's got to be an underpinning understanding. 47 TV: Right. The hands-on is the foundation. You know how things work, but now you have to figure out why it works. Those are the type of guys you try and mentor. There's another young lady who works for us named Jenn Bodine. She's about the smartest person I've run across too. She has her master's degree, but now she's curious about mechanical type stuff. She's going back to school to get her mechanical engineering degree. I say, "Hey Jenn, I'm going down on campus, do you want to come? Let's go see how this works." That's what I get to do. That's another fun part of my job. I get to do those things now, whereas I didn't have time before. RL: Okay, so we've touched on your time as a student and how you've progressed professionally. We've talked about your relationship with administrators and other individuals on campus. What haven't we covered that's important from your time here at Weber? TV: One of the more outstanding personalities from our facility is John Burkes. John was born and raised in Tupelo, Mississippi, and came to Weber State University about four years after I did. I met John one day at the old racquetball courts in the Swenson Gym. He was looking for a game and so was I. Over the course of the next 20 plus years, we became quite good friends. We played golf together, played a lot of racquetball and went on fishing trips together, the most notable of which was to the Kenai River in Alaska. I learned how to play racquetball by taking classes from Lyn Corbridge. Even though "Corb" is a few years older than I am, I could never beat him one-on-one. I also played a lot of racquetball with Ron Deeter and Scott Loughton. Mike Vause is another real character that I 48 came to know quite well. The English Department seemed to have a lot of them for some reason. RL: Connections that one wouldn't necessarily associate with as someone in your position and yet it's more of a social thing, but I'm sure it comes in handy as you're trying to do your job. TV: It's those intangibles that you cannot put your finger on. It's not all about salary and benefits. It's the other perks like the interpersonal relationships, the gym time, and the ability to interact with the deans and professors. RL: Let's face it, in higher education regardless of your position, you're not here for the money. TV: You're not going to die rich from this place, but it's good all the way around. You have to look at the total picture. That's what kept me here for all these years. Many years ago, the student body president here at the time, Mike Aarve, wanted a "W" on the mountain like the big "Y" at BYU and the "U" at the University of Utah. I remember it went through a whole bunch of stages and I asked, "You want that thing where?" He wanted it above the campus. There's a road there that sits right up on the side of the bald face hill. I thought, "How in the world are we going to do that?" You can't pump the concrete up there. At the time, all they had was a bunch of rocks or a white wash that was the "W." Anything to do with concrete or anything like that was totally impractical. So, they hatched this idea that they wanted a living "W" on the mountain made out of trees. This was in 1982, and I remember that specifically because Dean Hurst 49 and I were on top of the administration building with a transit and we had guys all over the side of this mountain laying out this "W." RL: Was Dean over in development at the time? TV: I think he was. I had a broken collarbone at the time from the same motorcycle that I got my separated shoulder from. I had the radio and Dean had the transit and we were making these guys move all these 2x6's. They were going all over this mountain laying out this great big "Flaming W" and it was huge. The students all got together and raised the funds. We put a drip irrigation system in with a pump and I think the pump house is still there. I can't remember the exact number, but we hauled up thousands of trees. RL: What kind of trees? TV: They were Dwarf Sumac. We had a daisy chain of students and football players and digging them in with peat moss and we got all those dog gone trees up there. When we finished, we walked down and started admiring our work. Later on, it became apparent that something was going on up there because the trees were disappearing. What happened was we planted all those trees and the deer went nuts. They had a built-in smorgasbord. The official parting line was, "It's all the alkaline in the soil that killed the trees." A young man in our office was doing layout work for the new "Flaming W" a couple of years ago and he told me that the stumps are still there. That was one of our more notable, funny failures. RL: Oops. Was that paid for with student funds? TV: I don't know exactly how they paid for it all, but I think lot of it was donor funds. 50 RL: Well, it was a good idea. TV: Nobody researched that very well. RL: Now we have the flaming "W" that's lit just a couple of times a year. Is that done on extension cords or did you actually have to wire the mountain side? TV: Actually, they have a portable generator they take up there. Remember I was talking about, Lynn Kraaima? That was his responsibility. He'd haul a generator up there every year for homecoming and light the "W." It's a different configuration now than what it was back then. It's all done by generator now. I don't know who's taken that over since he died. He was one of the other great guys I met up here. I've met a lot of great people up here. RL: There's got to be a reason why we all come back and we all stay here. TV: That's right. There's got to be a reason to get us to keep getting out of bed in the morning. RL: Is there anything else that you want to talk about? TV: I could talk forever about this place, but those are the more notables. RL: I certainly appreciate you taking the time to come and talk with us. TV: I'm honored. I'm really honored with this. RL: You've given us a totally different perspective of the campus. Weber is made up of a lot of people at different levels with different responsibilities and you've shared some things about what you've worked with over the years. It all started out with a Weber education. 51 TV: That's right. It all started out with trying to catch those old fish in front of the campus. We do have an aerial photo of campus that was taken in the early 1960's that shows that house and the pond. RL: What was that house used for? TV: I'm not too sure what the house was used for at the time. We had a lot of residences that were along Harrison Blvd. There used to be a road that came right down past the bell tower. I remember parking my car there so I could go to my classes in the TUB. It connected with the road by the administration building and there was a row of houses in there. The university acquired a lot of houses over the years. RL: Speaking of white buildings and houses. Were you here when the president's residence burned down? TV: I was not. I came right after that. That's when Joseph Bishop was here. RL: So your memories are of different white buildings? TV: Yes, this was on Harrison Boulevard and the aerial photo shows it. It's a validation of what I think I remember from my junior high school days. RL: That's wonderful. Thank you for taking the time to come talk with us. We appreciate it. TV: Thank you for the opportunity. This has been great for me. It's been a lot of fun. 52

Issue 10.5 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; A.M.D.G. . Renew for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1951. Christian Heroes . J. Pu~z Joy in Heaven . Richard L. Rooney ¯ PassionisHc SpirH'uallty . Fidells Rice Modesty ¯ ¯ ~ . ,~ .~ . C- A. Herbs÷ Grace o~ Our Vocation . P. De Leffer Communion for O~hers . . Clerence McAuliffe A Vocational Newspaper Questions and Answers Book Reviews ,VOLUME X i' =, NUMBER 5' RI:::VI W FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME X SEPTEMBER, 1951 NUMBER GONTENTS CHRISTIAN HEROES-~3. Putzo S.J . 225 Heroism of Everyday Life . 225 The New Saints ¯ " . ZZ9 The New Beati . 235 JOY IN HEAVEN--Richard L. Rooney, S.3 .2.3.9 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY--Fidelis Rice, C.P .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 246 MODESTY--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 247 ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE. RELIGIEUSE .2.5.2. THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION---P. De Letter, S.J .2.5.3 COMMUNICATIONS--A VOCATIONAL NEWSPAPER . 260 OFFERING COMMUNION' FOR OTHERS-~Clarence McAuliffe, S.J. 261 MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS . 265 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 20. Alienation of Property for $100,000 . 266 21. Alienation of Sacred Objects: Relics, Images, Vessels . . . . 266 22. Extreme Unction before Major Operation .268 23. Letters of Golden Jubilarians . 268 24. Novice Master at Coun~i~ Meeting . ¯ " . 268 25. Communion to Ambulatory Sick . 269 26. Hail Mary's on Feast of Annunciation . 270 I'~EW MEDITATION BOOKS . 270 BOOK REVIEWSw Pastor's History of the Popes; The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus; The Gifts of the Holy Ghost . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 276 BOOK NOTICES . 278 TEN YEAR INDEX OF REVIEW--MAYBE . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September. 1951. Vol. X, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation, Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S~ J. Copyright, 1951, by Adam C. Ellis, S,J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price]! 3 dollars a year: 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Befoie writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Christ:ian bleroe It~UR DAYS call for heroic living. The greatness.and diffi: ~ culties of our time are su.cb that no disciple ofo "~hrist.is allowed to remain satisfied with mediocrity." This, saying of Plus XI has often been quoted. The Holy Year was" meant-to stir up Christendom to greater fervor, that it might be an:active, l'eaven for'the much-needed renovation of the world. The numerous beati-fications and canonizations of this last year put beforeus outstandi'ng Christian heroes whose example is meant to stimulate our mediocgity~ Heroism is the test applied by the Church to candidates for .beati-- fication--not a human, stoic heroism, but a heroism inspired by personal love, by charity, and sustained by the Holy Ghost dwellin~ in the soul. At the beginning the typical saint was the ma'rtyr, th.e Christian who had been a witness to Christ by. dying for Him. ,But soon it was realized that, in the absence of persecution.s, there can be an "unbloody martyrdom" by heroic fidelity in liv'ing for Christ, Thus, by the side of martyrs, the names o,~f. outstanding "confes~ors~j came to be added in the martyrology. Heroism always remained the test of genuine sanctity, and the Congregation of Rites, .When studying the cause of'a confessor, has chiefly to discuss the hiroism his virtue. Is there evidence that he possessed in a herbic degree.the theolggical virtues of faith, hope, charity and the cardinal.~ri~tues :of prudence, justice, temperance, fortitude, with the virtues connected with them'? , .' ~ :: " , But what is required for heroic virtue? It is not easy tO dete~ mine thi's notion. Benedict XIV, in his treatise on'the beatification of the servants of God, has given all the elements, but he has:not made the synthesis, and one may say that the notion remained some:~ what indeterminate. This gave rise, 'within the ,Congregatigrl of Rites, to different conceptions of heroic, virtue. This. difference' de-layed the cause of the servant of God, A. Gianelli. The same reason may explain why until this year no child or ado.lescent ever passed the test, for the classical conception insisted 'on "extraordinary,~.' manifestatidns of heroism. There was room for progress 'tow~i'r'ds greater precision and, accor~ding to a recent articl'e by.~a consultor:of 22'5 J. PU~Z Reoieto for Religious the Congregation of Rites, the well-known Carmelite, Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, a distinct progress has been made during recent years. (Cf. Etudes Carmelitaines, 1949, pp. 175-88.~ This progress has not only a juridical importance for the process of beatification; it interest~ ascetical theology as well, since all Chris-tians are called to sanctity, and the type of holiness required by the Church for canonization determines the ideal of Christian perfection after which all must strive. T.he true Christian is the saint, and the saints are the standard by which we must guide and judge ourselves. Our imitation of.them must be based on a precise notion of what sanctity-~heroic virtue--consists in. Aqcording to Father Gabriel, the work of elaboration and deter-mination took place chiefly between 1916 and 1922, under the direct inspiration of Benedict XV. It can be followed in the decrees of the Congregation of Rites published on the occasion of the declara-tion of heroic virtue especially in the decrees concerning A. M. Gianelli (AAS, 1920, pp. 170-4)'and 3. N. Neumann (AAS, 1922, pp. 23-6). As a result, we are told, the Church is now in possession of a concept of heroic virtue more synthetic, less complicated and less abstract, more definite and easier to apply. This notion was clearly expressed in 1916 by Benedict XV, when he declared that "sanctity consists merely in conformity with the divine will, expressed in the constant and exact fulfillment of the duties of one's state." Sanctity, as the decree of April 11, 1920, explains, cannot be judged by an abstract standard. The saints cannot be reduced to one type. Heroism will vary according to each one's temperament, state of life, and other circumstances. It will not always show itself by extraordinary or stupendous deeds. For, as the decree' states, "these require a suitable occasion. But such occasions are rare and do not depend on the will of man; persecutions, for instance, plagues, or earthquakes cannot be produced at will. Hence, if holi-ness consisted in such deeds, it would follow that holiness itself does not depend on the will of man--which is absurd." The heroism to which all Christians can aspire is the exact and constant fulfillment of their concrete daily duties. "Comrounia sed non communiter,'" according to the motto of St. John Berchmans, doing common things but uncommonly well. What makes the saint is not the nature of his actions, whether extraordinary or common, important or insig-nificant; what counts is the intensity of his love that rules and in-spires all his actions. 226 September, 195 ! (]HRISTIAN HEROES Such fidelity implies real heroism, for nothing is more difficult to human nature than constancy. To be moved in everything by the will of God only, without being influenced by the ever-active sensi-bility, the sudden movements of the passions, the sense of fatigue, the ups and downs of one's n~oods.---such constancy supposes that the soul is under the perfect domination of the Holy Ghost and totally oriented towards its last end. Father Gabriel wrote in the same article, "If it were not so, if it were not perfectly purified, if other motives distinct from the love of God were still active (they can all be reduced to self-love, the root of all inordinate love of creatures), .then it would inevitably act more than once under the impulse of these motives and thus deviate from the pure fulfillment of the divine~ will." In such a soul "we admire a human nature tbat has reached a singular harmony and perfection--its spiritual forces keeping the sensible fac~lties in docile submission or completely conquering their resistance, so as to realize to perfection the task prescribed to it by the Lord: the perfect fulfillment of His holy will by a total, constant, ~nd generous fidelity to the daily duty." "Such sublime conduct, kept up over a long period, and without failure, is completely above the powers of human .nature left to itself . It alone suffices for evangelical heroism, for it makes man perfect in the way the heavenly ~Father is perfect." (Quoted by Benedict XIV in his treatise on beatification, III, c. 21, n. 10.) ! "'The heroism of the ordinary life has officially received a place by the side of the classical extraordinary heroism," wrote D. Pietro Brocardo. (Cf. Satesianum, 1950, p. 197.) Benedict XV's suc-cessor, the Pope who stressed the universal call of Christians to sanc-i. ,t~ty, often expounded this conception. Sanctity, according to Plus ~KI, is not something "exceptional," it is but the Christian life lived fully and intensely according to each one's vocation. Sanctity is but ~he fullest and richest expression of Christian life. It is the divine perfection proposed to all, from the humblest believer to the gigantic ~gures of hagiography. If not all are called to the same height of ~anctity, yet all are called to sanctity. His most famous pronounce-ment on this topic is his allocution published in Osservatore Romano, ~Jan. 6, 1928, on "the terrible everyday duty," given after the reading bf the decree of the heroic virtue of Brother Benildus, a humble leacher who had spent his whole life in elementary schoo.ls: "A humble servant of God, whose whole life was all modesty hnd silence, all very commonplace and very 'everyday.' But in such 227 Reoiew for Religious an. everyday- life how much there is that is not common! This everyday, always the same, with the same occupations, the same ~;eakness~s, the same miseries, has rightly been called 'the terrible ev'e'ryda3f:' How much strength is required to stand up to this ter-rible, this crushing, this monotonous, this asphyxiating everyday! An. un'c6mmon irirtue is very necessary to perform--not with an all too'° frequent negligence and superficiality but with attention and inner fe'rvbr of spirit--that series of common actions which fill our e'4ceryday life'. 0' "Holy Church is never a more equitable judge and a wi~er teacher of bdlinesk than when she honors these humble lights, so often unnoticed even by those who had the good fortun~ tosee them shine finder their i'er~, eyes. Extraordinary things, great events, magnifi-cei~ t enterprises arouse the noblest instincts: in the commonplace, on the:contrary, that is, in the flat and obscure everyday task, there is nothing exciting or fascin.ating. Yet this is the stuff the life of most men' is made of. How often do extraordinary circumstances present therfiselves in a lifetime? They are very rare, and woe to us if sanc-tity were reserved to extraordinary circumstances! What would the greater part of'~nankind do? For it is certain that all without dis-tinction are called to sanctity." " B'roth~r B~nil~tus was beatified twenty years later, on April 4, 1948. On that occasion Plus XII, too, spoke of the heroism of the ordinary life. Benildus was neither a founder, nor a mystic, nor a miracle-worker; h~.was a,~simple schoolmaster. His only claim to the honors' of the YChurch was his fidelity to duty--to his rules and the daily grind of the school. But such constant fidelity to the details of his di~ty, his radiant charity, his serenity in difficulties could only flow. frorrl a'ddep[and vigorous interior life and habitual union with Goal. ' :. ¯ During th~ Holy Year a variety of saints have been' beatified or e~rmn~zed." Maria Goretti w~s only eleven when she died, but she Was canonized as a martyr. Yet, even this extraordinary form of htroisrd;, the Pope pointed out, presupposes the "ordinary" heroism of the'daily life. Among the new beati is the first adolescent ever t'gised to the altars, Dominic Savio. So far, the youngest confessor ~fioni~ed is S~."Stanislaus; but he was a young man of eighteen ~nd, besides bein~ a religious, his life was out of the ordina.ry, Dominic died before he was fifteen, and his life was the very ordinary s~hool-b'oy life. The criterion of heroic virtue exposed by Father Gabriel 228 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES ,seems to havi~ made it possible for children and adolescerits to pass the test required for tl~e supreme honors of the Church. The eight saints canonized during the Holy Year of 1950 brought "the total number canonized by Plus XII tO twenty-two. Saints Emily de Rodat and Maria Goretti were also beatified by the present Holy Father. Among the canonized we find seven confessors and one martyr; one bishop, one priest-founder of a religious insti-tute, three foundresses of religious congregations, and three who attained sanctity "in the world": a middle-aged woman, a young woman, and a girl. Four are Italian, two French, one Spanish, and one from Latin America. Five belong to the nineteenth century, while the fifteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries each claim one. St. Jeanne de Valois (1464-1504) Jeanne de Valois, daughter, sister, and wife of kings, seemed to be so high-placed only to be the more cruelly humiliated and cast away. Her birth was a bitter disappointment for King Louis XI who already had a daughter and wanted a son who could succeed him. Misshapen by nature, she was sent away from the court and brought up by strangers. When still a child, she was bound by a political marriage to the young Duke of Orleans who detested her and who, when twenty years later he l~ecame King Louis XII, had his marriage annulled, makin,g of the rejected queen an object of public ridicule. But the greater her disgrace in the eyes of the world, the more clearly stands out her moral nobility and spiritual greatness. The "royal Cinderella," as she has been called, showed no bitterness, no morbid self-pity; she accepted everything with sincere humility, deep love for God and for men (including her husband for whom she never ceased praying and who became one of the best-loved kings of France), and whole-hearted application to the work God had given her. The king, on sending her away, made over to her the duchy of Berry, and during the six remaining years of her life she resided at Bourges, her capital, administering the duchy with such success that she earned from her pebple the title of "the Good Duchess."A'mid 229 J. PUTZ Review [or Religious the splendor of her court she secretly practiced" the most rigorous penances. In 1500 she realized a long-cherished project, the founda-tion of an order'of the Blessed Virgin, the Annqnciade. Its members were to take as their means of sanctification the imitation, the repro-duction of M~ry, by practicing, her "Ten Virtues" as found in the Gospel. She herself, though continuing to rule the duchy, made her religious profession and wore the habit under her worldly d~ess. She completed her work by founding a Third Order, the "Order of Peace,': whpse members, living in the world, were to work for peace and reconciliation. The Order of the Annonciade flourished for centuries, but was almost destroyed by the French Revolution. At ' present it has a half dozen bouses in Belgium, France, and England. When Joan died in her fortieth year she was immediately venerated as a saint. Her cult grew, miracles multiplied, but she was not formally beatified until 1742. Pius XII solemnlY proclaimed her a saint on May 28. In his homily the Holy Father stressed the saint's work for the promotion of peace; in heaven, he said, she continues to pray for the extinction of hate and for fraternal concord, so that the nations may form one great family, striving with united for~es to ensure prosperity and peace for all. On the following day, in an address to the numer-ous French pilgrims, he described the spirituM characteristics of the saint--spirit of faith, devotion to the Mother of Jesus ("an infallible test of the true. Christian"), union with Jesus in suffering--and gave her as an example tO French Catholics, particularly to the women of France "on'whom in the present crisis devolves a mission 9f supreme importance." SI. Mary Ann of Jesus (1618-1645) Born in Quito, Ecuador, of Spanish parents, this Saint of Latin America--"the Lily of Quito"--showed a precocious attraction for the things of the spirit. She took the three vows at ten and lived the live of a solitary in a room of her sister's wealthy home,.leaving it only to go to church and to visit the poor and sick. She practiced heroic austerities and was favored with sublime prayer. In 16~}5, when Quito was visited by earthquakes and a deadly plague, she publicly offered herself as a victim for the sins of the people. The skourge abated, but she was seized with a malady-which put an end to her short but intense life. She was only twenty-six. 230 September, 1~51 CHRISTIAN HEROES She was beatified by Plus IX in 1853. In 1946 "the Parliament of Ecuador declared her a "national heroine." Her canonizatiorl, the last of the Holy Year, took place on July 9.In his homily the Holy Father stressed three aspects, of her life: (1) immaculate purity; (2) ardent charity, which she practiced towards every misery, spir-itual and material: when she was powerless to help, she tried to obtain help from God by prayer, expiation, the offering of her life; (3) extraordinary austerity, inspired by the desire to expiate the sins of men. She offered herself as a~victim for the salvation of others. This question of mortification needs special stres.sing in the mod-ern world, the Pope said. "Not all, especially nowadays, understand this kind of penance; not all esteem it as they should. Many of our contemporaries despise it or neglect it. Yet we should know that for our fallen nature penance is absolutely necessa.ry. Unless y.ou do pena.nce you will all perish. Indeed, nothing heli3s more efficaciously to conquer our passions and to subject our natural instincts to the control of reason. And when we have won a victory over ourselves it is sweet to exp'erience a divine joy which surpasses' al'l earthly pleasures." In his allocution to pilgrims the following day, the Pope re-marked that we "who. live in the full light of the deyotion of the Sacred Heart may well admire the holy intuitions of this innocent victim who, at the beginning of .the seventeenth century, was led to make of reparation the centre of her spirituality." St. Vincent Strambi (1745-1824) St. Vincent Strambi was one of the great bishops and upholders of the Church's independence in the face of totalitfirian rulers. After being ordained a priest in 1767 he was received into the Passionist Congregation by St. Paul of the Cross himself. He was a great preacher of missions and director of souls (among his penitents was the Blessed Anna Maria Taigi) and filled high offices of authority in his order. In 1801 he was, much against his will, appointed bishop of Macerata and Tolentino by Plus VII. He administered his dio-cese with the zeal of another Charles Borromeo. Preoccupied chiefly with the formation of the clergy and the diffusion of religious in-struction, he brought about a religious renewal among priests and laity. When he refused to take the oath of. allegiance to the ustirping regime established by Napoleon he was expelled from his diocese in 231 J. PUTZ Review for Religious 1808 until the fall of the Emperor in 1813. In 1823 he resigned his see and died soon after in Rome, where Pope Leo XII had made him his confidential adviser." In the midst of his intense activity and the vicissitudes "of his life he never relaxed anything in the austerity of his private life. He was beatified, in 1925 and canonized on June 11, 1950. In his homily the Holy Father made an application to the countries where the Church is being oppress, ed by the secular power: "The Church can be attacked, she cannot be conquered . If under the present difficulties--which in some countries seem graver than those referred to above--some souls are disconcerted, wavering, or anxious, they should remember the promises of Jesu~ Christ and try to imitate the invincible fortitude of this saint as well as. his other virtues." St. Anthony Claret (1807-1870) St. Anthony Claret was another great priestly figure of the nine-teenth century. Born at Salient in the north of Spain, he practiced for a tired his father's trade of cloth-weaving, but eventually was able to follow his heart's desire and join the seminary of Vicb. After his ordination in 1835 and a few years of pa.rish work, he conse-crate'd himself with extraordiriary success to ~he preaching of missions and retreats throughout Catalonia. His zeal inspired other priests, and in 1849 he founded the Congregation of MissioriarySons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, commonly kno.wn.as the Claretians. The same year he was sent to Cuba as Archbishop of Santiago, to b~ing about there a much-needed reform: In this post of exceptional diffi-culty he achieved considerable results, though several attempts were made on his life. After seven years he was recalled to Spain to become the confessor of Queen Isabella II. In the revolution of 1868 he was banished from his country. He attended the Vatican Council where he spoke eloquently for the definition of papal infalli-bility. Soon after, .on Oct. 24, 1870, he died in France. Besides preaching some 10,000 sermons, h~ was an ardent apostle of the press. He wrote 120 books and pamphlets (144 volumes), founded religious libraries, and promoted the diffusion of good literature. He was beatified in 1934 and canonized on May 7, 1950. The work of this powerful apostle is carried on by the Cl~iretians who in 1949 celebrated their first centenary. They count at present Over 4,000 members in 24I establishments all over "the world. Their chief work is education, missions and retreats, and the aposfolate of 232 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES the press. In Rome they ~un the Poliglotta Press and edit the Corn-mentarium pro religiosis et missionariis. St. Emily de Radar (1787-1852) .' At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the French Revolu-tion and the long wars that followed it bad accumulated in France and Europe immense miseries, spiritual and material. Then Provi-dence raised up numerous saints who, impressed by the needs of their time, devoted themselves to remedy them. Rarely in the history of the Church do we find so many religious institutes springing up every-where, dedicated to the prac.tice of various v~orks of corporal and spiritual mercy. In this providential reconstruction women had a prominent share, and this explains why among the saints beatified or canonized by Pius XII there ale so many religious foundresses of this period. Emily de Radar was beatified by Plus XII in 1940 and canon-ized by the same on April 23, 1950. Born of an aristocratic family, she was brought up by pious parents but passed through a period of worldly frivolity and religious indifference. Converted during the Holy Year of 1804, she decided to consecrate'her life to the service of God. After trying several religious institutes, her visits to the poor made .her realize the great need for Catholic schools: She immedi-ately set to work: she had found her vocation. With three other young women she opened a school, and thus the Congregation of the Holy Family was started. Today it has over 200 houses in Europe and South America--schools, orphanages, hospitals. The H01y Father, in his homily, stressed the precious services rendered by reli-gious institutes of women: "When we consider the admirable enterprises of this saint, when we remember what her congregation and the other religious institutes --almost innumerable--have accomplished, we cannot but proclaim that the Church and civil society as well owe very much to all these religious women. If we did not have them, if God by His heavenly inspiration did not continually and in every century raise them up, if He did not sustain them by His help, who could fill their place? Let all, then, learn to praise them as they deserve, to help them as they can . And may the religious zealously and strenuously strive to live up to their lofty vocation." Saints Bartolomea Capltanio and Catherine Gerosa (1807-1833) (1784-1847) , Bartolomea Capitanio and Catherine Gerosa founded together 233 the Italian Sisters of Charity, after the model of St. Vincent de Paul's Sisters of Charity. Bartolomea began her apostolate at fourteen, teaching, little children. Soon her simple and strong personality drew to her, as to their mother, the young, the poor and afflicted of her little town of Lovere. Seeing the need to organize the ever-increaging work she joined forces with another saintly worker of the same town, Catherine, who was twenty years her senior and had already opened a hospital for the sick poor. Bartolomea died a few years later, at the early age of twenty-six. Her spiritual notes and instructions, as well as a considerable number of her letters, have been published. She left the young institute to the care of Catherine (who had ~dopted the name of Vincenza), an extremely bumble woman, yet an efficierit worker and able organizer. During the fourteen years she had still to live, the congregation continued to expand 'rapidly Today it counts nearly 9,000 religious in some 500 houses. Barto-lomea' was beatified in 1926; Vincenza in 1933T.hey w~re canon-ized together on May 18, 1950. St. Maria Gorettl (1890-1902) No canonization war received with greater enthusiasm than that of the humble village girl who died for the preservation of her purity The ~tory of her martyrdom is. known to all our readers. Her popu-larity and the speed of her promotion to the highest honors of the Church ha~e been equalled or surpassed in modern times only by the Little Flower of Lisieux. Her cause was introduced in 1938 and concluded in 1945. The solemn beatification took place on April 27, 1947, and she was canonized three years later, on June.-24, 1950, forty-eight years after her death. " (Teresa of Lisieux died on Sept. 30, 1897, was beatified on April 29, 1923, and canonized on May 17, 1925. Aloysius Gonzaga was beatified fourteen years after his death, bu~ another' centu.ry passed before be was canonized.) In spite of her youth, Maria was capable of heroism, and this heroism showed itself also in the pardon accorded to her miarderer on her' deathbed and in. the superhum~t'n patience during the extremely painful operation by which,the doctors tried to save her, withou~ putting her to .sleep,. D.ur!ng those tWO. long., hours Mary never complained but kept invoking the help of the" BlEssed Virgin. For .sush :heroism, the Holy F,a.ther point.e~d 6ut.in his allocution, the 23~, September, 195 I. CHRISTIAN HEROES courageous child had prepared herself by the daiIy practice of the virtues of her state: "It is true that it is above all purity that sho~e in Maria Goretti's martyrdom, but with it. and in it the other Christian virtues tri-umphed as well. In that purity there was the most evident and sig-nificant affirmation of the perfect control of the soul over matter. In that supreme heroism, which cannot be improoised, there was the tender, obedient," and active love for the parents, self-sacrifice in the hard work~of every day, poverty accepted in an evangelical spirit and sustained by trust in Providence, religion embraced tenaciously, deepened ever more, ~ssimilated as a treasure of life and nourished by the flame of prayer; the fervent desire of ~lesus in the Eucharist, and finally--the crown of charity--the heroic pardgn accorded to the murderer. All this forms a rustic garland, so dear to God, of country flowers which adorned the white veil of her First Com-munion and, shortly after, her martyrdom." The beatifications of the Holy Year, like the canonizations were eight in number. The total of those beatified by Pope Plus XII at the end of 19~0 is now'fifty-two; this includes the twenty-nine Chinese martyrs. Among those beatified during the Holy Year we find one priest, one boy, and six foundresses of religious institutes: two Spanish, two Italian, and two French. All except one belong to the nineteenth century. Blessed Vincen~ Pallo~f~ (1795-f850). Vincent Pallotti was the apostle of Rome at a difficult period of histo~-y.-After his ordination and a double doctorate at the Sapienza, he started his apostolate among students and it soon became clear that Rome possessed a holy priest. He was made confessor of Propaganda College, the English College, the Roman Seminary. On all of them his influence was deep. But his preferences were for the poor and the workers; he opened professional and agricultural schools and pro-moted t?ade unions. His zeal embraced the whole world and every" need, spiritual and material. For this "universal" object he founded the Society of the Catholic Apostolate (a society :of" priests and Brothers living in common without public vows, commonly known ,235 J. PUTZ Reoieu~ for Religious as the Pallottines) and the Sisters of the Catholic Apostolate. He took a special interest in the conversion of England and sent to that country some of his best men. He realized, more than a century ago, the immense possibilities and the necessity of the lay apostolate, and Pius XI called him a "pioneer and precursor of Catholic Action." This bold and far-sighted planner was a man of incredible humility, considering himself an obstacle to the progress of the Church and accepting without a word the most cruel humiliations. He always kept his predilection f.0r the poor, giving them even his own clothes. He died of a pleurisy contracted as a consequence of giving his mantle to a destitute man. Today 3,550 Pallottines and 2,900 Sisters of the Catholic Apos-tolate continue the saint's w.ork in many countries. Vincent's beati-fication was the first of the Holy Year; it took place on Jan. 22, exactly 100 years after hi~ death. A few days later the Pope pointed out "this great sacerdotal figure" as an example to parish priests and preachers. His sermons, he said, were always directed to the ur~uro nec.essarium; his confessional was eagerly sought after and surrounded with extraordinary effects of grace, "May his spirit be renewed in every one of you and infuse into your apostolate that .irresistible glow of love which the doubting, uncertain, and suffering men of today need so much." Blessed Marla-Soledad Torres y Acosta (1826-1887) Maria started her apostolate of charity in a squalid quarter of Madrid. With her h'elp the parish priest opened a hospital for. the ¯ poor. Eventually she had to take charge of the whole work, which she stabilized and perpetuated by founding a religious congregation, the Servants of Mary. Her institute during her lifetime spread from Spain to South America. At present it counts some 1,600 members. She was beatified on Feb. 5, 1930. Blessed Vincenta-Maria Lopez y Vicuna (1847-1890) Vincenta was born of an aristocratic Spanish family. Sent to Madrid for her higher education, she became interested there in the charitable Work of her aunt who, shocked by the difficulties and dangers of the lives of domestic servants, had opened a home for them. Vincenta refused a brilliant match arranged by her father and 236 Se'ptembe¢, 19:51 CHRISTIAN HEROES took the vow of chastity. After her father's death she used her con-siderable fortune.to develop her work of social assistance. To further extend it she founded the Daughters of Mary Immaculate for the protection of young women. At'present they number, nearly 2,000 members in various countries. Their hostels for domestic servants, working-girls or students provide for the material and spiritual wel-fare of well over 30,000 young women. She was beatified on Feb. 19, 1950. Blessed Paola-Elizabeth Cerloli. (1816-1865) Like Vinc~nta she was bor~ of a noble family in Northern Italy. But at nineteen, not feeling called to the religious life, she followed the wish of her parents and married an old widower,Count Buzecchi, forty years her senior. After the death of her husband and three children she was then tl~irty-eight--she consecrated her time and income tO assisting the poor peasants and farmhands of the sur-rounding country. In 1857 she started a religious community, the Sisters of the Holy Family of Bergamo, for the care of orphans and morally abandoned children. In 1950 this institute counted some 300 members. The saint was also instrumental in founding a simi-lar institute for men, the Priests of' the Holy Family. The brief of canonization compares her with St. Joan de Chantal, an angel in four states of life, girl, wife, widow, and religious. She was beatified on March .19, 1950. Blessed Maria ~e Mattias (1805-1866) Maria was born in the diocese of Gaeta. When she was seven-teen, she attended a mission preached by the Blessed Gaspar del Bufalo, a friend of Blessed Vincent Pallotti and founder of the Mis-sionaries of the Most,Precious Blood. The holy preacher to whom she opened'her soul recognized her great gifts and entouraged her to take up the apostolate of Christian education. She began by gath-ering the little children in her parental home, and in 1834 she founded.a convent and a school. This was the beginning of the in-stitute of the "Adoratrici" of the Most Precious Blood, which today has 215 houses in Italy and 172 in other parts of the world, with some 2,000 members. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Anne-Marie Javouhey (1779-1851) The child of a farmer of Burgundy, she grew up amid the horrors 237 J., PUTZ Reaie~a [or Religious of the French Revolution, sometimes risking her life. in order to hide and assist priests. At nineteen she vowed perpetual Chastity and re-solved to dedicate her life to the education of children and the care of the sick. As other girls joined her in the work she c~nceived the plan of her new congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph, called "of Cluny" from the place of the mother house. Soon she made founda-tions in mission countries, Africa, Pondicherry, French Guiana, and others. A woman of remarkable energy and intrepid enterprise' (King Louis Philippe said admiringly, "Madame Javouhey, that's a great man"), she frequently visited her missions, worked for the abo-lition of slavery and for the organization of public services in the colonies. From the start she realized the necessity of forming an indigenous clergy, and in order to accelerate the work she brought to France the first Negro candidates for the priesthood. Today the Sisters of St. Joseph are found in every part 'of the world, working in schools, hospitals, leper asylums, and other institutions. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Marguerite Bourgeo~ys (1620-1700) This blessed takes us back to the seventeenth century and to the great period of ~he Canadian missions. John de Brebeuf was mar-tyred in 1649. The Ursuline missionary-contemplative Marie de l'Incarnation died in Quebec in 1672. Margaret, who had first tried the contemplative life with the Carmelites and the Poor Clares in her native France, found bet vocation when .the Governor of Montreal came to France and tried to find a teacher for the children of the French garrison of Ville-Marie. She offered her services and in 1653 reached Montreal, where she .began bet apostolate by teaching the catechism and visiting the sick in their huts. In 1658, with some companions whom she bad brought out from France the previous year, she founded the congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, which became an important educational factor for the whole of Canada and. since 1860, for the United States (at present 5,680 members). Margaret, "schoolmistress and itinerant mis~iorlary,;' opened mission schools ff;r Indian girls, many of whom became zealous Sisters in the institute. Thus, as the Pope remarked in his address to Canadian pilgrims, she realized among the "savage" Huron girls what St. Francis de Sales had dreamt of for France, a congrega-tion of non-cloistered "secular daughters." She was beatified on November 12, 1950. 238 September, 1951 JOY IN HEAVEN Blessed Dominic Savlo (1842-1857) Blessed Dominic, beatified on March 5, is the Benjamin of the confessors raised to the altars, since he was not quite fifteen when he died, The son of a modest but deeply Christian family, he very early showed a special earnestness and resoluteness in his piety. His First Communion, which he made at seven, .definitely set his will towards the goal of sanctity. In 1854 be was received by Don Bosco into the oratorio of Turin. Here~ under the saint's direction, and fos-tered by special graces, his spiritual life developed rapidly; but after two ~,ears a sickness obliged him to return to his home, where he died a few months later. His life was written by Don Bosco him-self. The decree declaring the heroism of his virtues was published in 1933. The beatification of this youthful masterpiece of divine grace--grace to which he corresponded heroically--will no doubt encourage new studies on the nature of sanctity and .especially of children's sancti~j'. [EDITORS' NOTE: The foregoing article is reprinted with permissi'on from The Clergy Montfily, a magazine published in India.] Joy in I-le ven Richard L. Roone}', S.J. "I,"HE Archangel in charge of the recording angels had called a | meeting of the guardians of religious. They were met in his skyey office high above the battlements of heaven. "Quite frankly, Angels, my aide~ are alarmed about this whole business," he was telling them. "The number of 'kicks,' complaints, criticisms and 'crabs' that l)hey have to record for religious is prepos-terous. They're even wondering if these human creatures will be satisfied and happy and content even here in heaven! They have found one hope, however. They feel sure that Purgatory will take all the 'kick' out of these kickers. You Gufirdian Angels do a grand job keeping your charges living up to their vows and observing the larger phases of religious life. It is time, nevertheless, that you went to work on this complaining business. It may relieve their human ,239 RICHARD L. ROO~EY feelings to 'crab' 6r to criticize. It doesn't add to God's glory or to their own merit however. So please, now, to business." The guardians, your own among them, filed out of' .the office and winged earthward. They came, each of them equipped with ques-tionnaires like the following. How would you answer them if your Angel Guardian put one before you during your next examen? 1. Do you find yourself complaining quite often? 2. What (or who!) is your p, et peeve? 3. Do you "kick" about the weather, the c~ll or the room you have, the house you are'in, the food you are. served, the work you have been assigned? 4. Do you ever "crab" about superiors or their directions? 5. Have you a few kindred souls with whom you get together to talk over the way things would be done if you were in charge of them ? 6. Do you firm., and vocalize about it. that the community is a pretty dull, or annoying lot? 7. Are you heaping up a pretty severe judgment for yourself by judging others . . . and that right severely? 81 There is a lot of sense in the little poem: Two men looked through prison bars; One saw mud, the other sad2 stars. Well, what do you see in the rest of us most of the time? 9. Do you accept the ordinary pin-pricks of daily religious life without grumbling? (Remember you are an especially selected member of a thorn-crowned Head.) i0. Can you put all of ydur words and remarks, both within the community and to externs, on the paten of tomorrow's Mass and know that they will be acceptable to God? After scanning the above you may find that it will be a good thing to take your particular examen off such undisturbingly im-practical generalities as humility or charity at large and particularize it at least on keeping a strict guard over your "kicking" tongue. If so, go to it! The best of success to you! Know that you will be a delight not only tO your. fellow religious but to the saints and angels and God Himself as well! 240" Passionist:ic Spiri!:uali!:y' Fidelis Rice, C.P. IN THE INFINITE 'reaches of eternity, within the secret council of the Godhead, the Wisdom and Love of God decreed that all of creation should reflect in.a unique way the ineffable perfections of God. Because God is absolutely infinite--that is, without any limits whatever--no creature could ever exhaust the divine imitabil-ity. Since the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Word, is the Exemplar of all that is, iherefore each creature is called upon in its own distinct way to teA1 us a little more. about the vastness, the goodness, and the perfection of the Word. "All things were madd by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made." In the realm 6f souls our reflection of the divine holiness is to be accomplished by a participation in the Christ-Life. For each soul is predestined from all eternity to manifest in time the eternal Holiness which is God. There is a uniqueness, then, in the destiny of each soul. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who" has blessed us with spirftual blessings in heavenly places, in Christ. As He chose us in Him, before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight, in charity." (Ephesians, 1:3, 4.) Here the great Apostle reveals to us that our holiness is planned and designed in eternity, but according to the pattern of Christ. We are all called to mirror the holiness of the Word, but each soul in a different way. There is, then, a wondrous blending of unity and multiplicity in the pattern of holiness. Christ is one, the unique model of all holiness. But because of the limitations of our nature, because of our very creaturehood, each one of us will reflect the holiness of Our Lord in a so.mewhat different way, just as various artists in painting the same subject will use a varying contrast, a difference of light and shadow, greater or less use of chiaroscuro, until the completed can-vases, while basically the same, will manifest vast differences. ¯ So it is that in the various religious orders and societies, approved by the Church, there is a difference of pattern in the design for holi-ness, although, all are dedicated to the one supreme objective--the perfect imitation of Christ. The essential spirit of each religious order is imparted, first of 241 FIDELIS RICE Retaieto for Religious all, by the founder of the institute. Plus XI clearly states that the various founders of religious institute~ were guided in a special way by the Holy Spirit, who seeks alway,s to communicate to the Mysti-cal Body.of Christ the graces purchased by His precious death upon the cross. "For what else did these most illustrious men do in founding their institutes, but obey the inspirations of God? There-fore, let their followers show forth in themselves those characteristic traits which the Founders imprinted upon their several Institutes. Let them not fail in this." ("Unigenitus"; A.A.S., Vol. XVI, p. 133.) The key, therefore, to essential Passionistic spirituality is to ,be found in the life and work of Saint Paul of the Cross, and Passion-ists can be called "Passionists" only insofar as they adhere to his teachings and to his spirit. ° It was the unique genius of Paul of the Cross to combine in one Rule the best features of two apparently contradictory or opposing states of life. For he willed that his religious should cherish and foster the contemplative observance of choir monks, centering all in the liturgical, prayer of the Office, while at the same time fulfilling the sublime vocation of a missionary apostolate. In the mind of Paul of the Cross, missionary activity should flow spontaneously, from the life of prayer, thus verifying the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas that the function of the apostolate is "tradere contemplata aliis"--"to'give to others the fruits of contemplation." Because the consuming passion of the life of St." Paul of the Cross was love for the sufferings of 2esus Christ, he wanted his religious to share, in a special way, in the redemptive sacrifice of Christ. That is, the Passionist vocation is in a special way a vocation to a life of reparation. The inmost spirit of the Passionist Rule is the spirit of solitude, penanee, poverty, and prayer. In unforgettable language Saint Paul of the Cross described the spirit of his institute in a cir-cular letter which he sent to his religious for the Feast of Pentecost, May 2nd., 1750. "Most beloved Sons, you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. Therefore, as dead to all that is not °God, r~main in the most perfect detachment from all created things, in true poverty of spirit, and in detachment from sensible consola-tions. Assisted by the most holy grace of ,lesus, direct all your zeal to this end--to be recollected in interior solitude; then you will become true adorers of the Sovereign Good in spirit and in truth . Never withdraw from the holy Wounds of Christ, but ever strive 242 September, 1951 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY more and more that your souls become hidden in and entirely pene-trated by them." (Letters: Vol. IV, p. 226.) Saint Paul of the Cross was one of the most privileged of mys-tical souls with which God has endowed the Church, but his very mysticism bore the unique character of his vocation. For although he received the grace of the "transforming union" or "mystical mar-riage"-- the highest grace of mystical prayer--at a very early age, yet for over fifty years thereafter he continued in the profound suf-ferings of the Dark Night of the Soul, a fact which Father Garrigou7 Lagrange, O.P., calls almost unique in the lives of the saints. Because Paul of the Cross was a master of prayer, it is not to be wondered at that he should insist upon a spirit of constant prayer. for his followers. In his Rule .he states in the very first chapter that "Prayer is one of the chief objects of our Congregation." The Passionist Rule, as it is observed in our monasteries in the United States today, prescribes, beside the Divine Office, two hours of mental prayer each day--an hour in the morning, and an hour in the eve-ning. Including the time that is devoted to the Divine Office; the Passionist, in the daily routine of his monastic day, spends close' to five hours in prgyer. One of the features of Passionistic prayer is the observance of the night office, for Passionists rise ea, ch morning at two o'clock to chant Matins and Lauds before the Blessed Sacrament. This observ-ance lasts one hour, and the religious retire again at three, to rise once more at dawn for Prime and Tierce. This nocturnal observance is one of the cherished ~xercises of the penitential spirit bequeathed by Saint Paul of the Cross to his sons. In order that the spirit of prayer might always be preserved in the Congregation, Saint Paul prescribed most riggrously that Pas-sionist monasteries be built always in places of solitude, and with every safeguard that the spirit of solitude be not violated nor intruded upon. Hence, even when built in the heart of large cities, there must always be sufficient acreage for gardens and privacy for the solitary walks prescribed by rule. Many of our 'American "monasteries are now surrounded by teeming residential sections, but when they were built they stood alone, in the midst of solitude. The cities have come to the monasteries, but because of the wise prescriptions of the Rtile the spirit of solitude is still safeguarded. However, the spirit Of the Passionist Congregation is also a spirit of apostolic activity. As the present Superior General, Most Rev- 243 FIDELIS RICE Review for Religious erend Albert Deane, C.P., wrote in a recent circular letter to the Con-gregatio, n: "On the day it would cultivate the contemplative life ex-clusively, the Congregation would cease to be what 'our Holy Founder instituted. Nor could he be said to be a good Passionist, who without legitimate cause would'omit to do what he could to attain the apostolic end of our Congregation, although under the p.retext of better caring for his own salvation. His religious profes-sion demands otherwise of him." In this ~ame document, our Most Reverend Father General has beautifully epitomized the heart of the Passionistic spirituality: "For our spirit, dearest Sons, can be likened to a'pyramid, made of the spirit of prayer, penance, and the apostolate, but held together by the fire of devotion to Christ suffering, having no other apex to which the ~exalted Passionist life converges than our configuration to Christ Crucified, whom we must preach by word and by example: 'We preach Christ and Him Crucified.' This is what the words say which we carry engraven over our hearts; this reminds us, if perhaps we sometimes forget, of our very name itself, for we are popularly called 'Passionists'.',' . The primary work of the Passionist Congregation, then, is a reflection of its inner'spirituality--the preaching of popular mis-sions, and retreats to the clergy and religious, as well as to the laity. Passionists conduct no schools, except for the education i~f their own subjects. They engage in parish work only as an exception, and for clearly defined needs in a particular locality. They are above all, preachers of the Passion of 3esus Christ. To this end they take a special vow to promote in the hearts of others, devotion to the Pas-sion of oresus Christ. They do, however, engage in foreign mission work, and they are likewise working among the colored in the South. Saint Paul of the Cross was a staunch advocate of enclosed re-treats for the laity. Cherishing, as he did, the wonderful advan-tages of holy solitude, it is not surprising that he would wish to share these advantages and blessings with the laity. And so he wrote into his Rule the prescription that in each monastery rooms should be provided for lay retreatants. In most of our American monasteries we have special retreat houses for men, and a flourishing retreat movement is an integral part of our Passionist family life. Because Paul of the Cross was consumed by the love of Jesus Christ Crucified, he burned with the desire to bring the riches of His death to the souls of men. He was profoundly aware of the 244 September, 1951~ . PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY meaning of the priestly vocation, and realized fully that a p~iest must always communicate to the Mystical Body 6f Christ the life purchased by the sufferings of Ouk Lord. But he knew, too, that the most fruitful apostolate is that which is the overflow of prayer, rather than a substitute for it. Hence it was that no matter how gifted a missionary might be, no matter how eloquent on the mission-platform, and no matter how great the demand for his services, Saint Paul of the Cross rig- . orously required that each missionary spend a suitable portion of.the year in the solitude and quiet of the monastery. Although far wise to reduce this to a mathematical formula, the founder of the Passionists imposed upon superiors and missionaries alike the obli-gation to. preserve always in the Congregation this time of with-drawal each year from the exhausting round of activity. The demands for our services have grown with the years, and no fixed calend,a'r tan be drawn up which governs the exact details, but our superiors still strive faithfully and sincere!y to arrange the schedule for-each mis-sionary, so that he may spend a sufficient amount of time.withih the mona.stery each year. Saint Paul of the Cross was profoundly con-vinced that "one Religious who is a. man of prayer and lover of solitude will bring forth more spiritual fruit from the ministry than a thousand others who are not such." (Letters, Vol. III, 418.) .,. The Passlonlst family circle is made up of three groups: tl~e priests, the students or clerics, "and the lay brothers. ¯ In most of our American monasteries all three groups are found, for most of our monasteries are also houses of study, or seminaries in which young men are preparing for the priesthood. Our lay brothers, a shitable time after the profession of their perpetual vows, are admitted to }ecreation with the priests; and the recreation is common ~f(;r these two groups. The students remain always in a separate r~creation. The day's horarium.is divided bet.ween prayer and study. The day is spent in silence, except for the two brief recreation periods each day. Three days of fast and abstinence are .observed each week-- Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. During the entire time of Ad-vent and Lent, Sundays included, abstinence from meat is the rule within the monastery. Paul 6f the Cross does not want his sons to forget that t,hey must bd men of penance. For this reason, too, san-dals are worn on the bare feet, and a ro.ugh woolen h.abit is worn the year round. The Passionistic ideal;" then, is to share as intimately as possible 245 FIDELIS RICE. o in the sublime virtues which shone, forth so re~splendently on Cal-vary. It is the vocation proclaimed so sublimely by Saint Paul the Apostle in his Epistle to the Colossians: "Who now rejoice in my sufferings foF you, and fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ in my flesh, for His body, which is the Church." (Colossians, 1:25.) So it was that that other P~ul, Paul of the Cross, sought to instill into his followers a burning love for the Crucified, a love which would make them conform their own lives by penance, solitude, prayer, and poverty, to the ideals of Calvary, that they might go forth to preach the glories and the ignominies of the Cross of Jesus Christ. The r~assionist spirit might be summed up in one word, "Stau-rosophy," for "stauros" is the Greek word for the Cross.; ,The sons of Paul o'f the Cross must remain ever absorbed by the wisdom or the "philc~sophy" of the Cross. Wisely has the Church selected the Introit for the Mass on the Feast of St. Paul of the Cross: "Christ0 confixus sum cruci." . "With Christ I am nailed to the cross." (Ga-latians, 2:19.) No other words of Sacred Scripture could epitomize more simply the ess.dntial spirit of this great lover of the Crucified, and of the form of life which he has bequeathed to his sons, who wear that habit of mourning first shown to Paul of the Cross in vision, by the Mother of God, when she told him to founc~ an order whose members would devote their lives to mourning for the sor-rows of Her Son. OUR CONTRIBUTORS F1DELIS RICE, writer and missionary, is on the mission band at St. Joseph's Passionist Monastery, Baltimore, Maryland. J. PUTZ, the editor Of Clergg Month-lg and author of Mg Mass, and P.DE LETTER, a recent contributor to American ecclesiastical journals, teach at St. Mary's theologate, Kurseong, India¯ RICHARD L. ROONEY is on the Queen's Work staff and editor of Action Now. C.A. HERBST and CLARENCE MCAULIFFE are o£ the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, . , : PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The sul~scripfion pHce of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00"per year for" Domestlc.end ,Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per yeer for all for~icjn subscrip-fio'ns. For further de~'ails please see inside back cover. 246 Modesty C. A. Herbst, S.J. ~4 ~t man's looks betray him: a man of good sense will make him-self known to thee at the first meeting; the clothes he wears, . the smile on his lips, his gait~ will all make thee acquainted with a man's character" (Ecclus. 19:26, 27. Knox version). This' is the Holy Spirit's description of modesty. Following His directive, St. Thomas teIIs us that this virtue is concerned with "the movement and actions of the body; that all of them, those gone through in fun as well as the serious ones, may be decent and proper." (Summa Theologica, 2-2, q. 160, a. 2.) Dress is also included. The cardinal virtue of temperance controls pleasure coming from food, drink, and ' sex, the most difficult things. Modesty, a part of temperance, takes care of the lesser. A subordinate in the hierarchy of authority takes ~in hand the little things. Modesty is therefore not at all the s~me thing' as chastity or purity, as many quite commonly presume, though it may be more or less connected with it. Not one's interior only but one's exti~rior, too, must be con-formed to the .norm of right reason. The easy and evident way for u_s to strive to achieve this is "to imitate Christ. "We must look with the eyes of the soul on that wonderful leader 'beautiful above the sons of men' in the ordinary dress He wore at home . Erect of body and with perfect composure His gait was neither too hurried nor too slow. There was nothing soft or effeminate, not.hiog childish or lackadaisical about Him. Neither could anything gloomy or exasperating be seen in Him, nor was there any assumed gravity. He was not singular nor finicky. His Whole being breathed sweetness, joy, kindness, majesty." (Le Gaudier, De Perfectione Vitae Spirit-ualis, Pars IV, caput xviii.). "Jesus began to do and to teach," first to tellus by His exampl~ how tb act, only later by His words. Our exterior modesty should be, as His, for the glory of God. "So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." It should make us more like God. "God cre~ ~ted man to his 6wn image: to the "image of God he created him." Man's likeness to God is, of course, in the soul, in his interior sanc-tity, but that interior dignity and perfection should shine forth, so 247 ¯ C. A. HERBST Reoeiw [or Religiou~ to speak, in the ,modesty of his exterior as through a beautiful and translucent garment, or as the rays of the sun make a cloud all silver and gold. That "image of God" ou.ght somehow to be mani-fested in the body. "Because man's body alone of all the animals on earth is not bowed down to the ground but so made that it can better contemplate the heavens, it can justly be said' that it is made more t6 the image and likeness of God than the bodies of other animals, as Augustine says. But this must not be understood to mean that the image of God is in man's body but that the very form of. the human body represent.s the likeness of God in the soul like a trace." (S. Th., 1, ,q. 93, a. 6.) The importance of modesty in the life of a religious can hardly be overestimated. One is forced to this conclusion from reading the masters of the spiritual life and by noting the Christian tradition through the centuries. The statement made by St. Ambrose in this matter is a classic. "Modesty must be preserved in our very move-ment, carriage, and gait. Our habit of mind is reflected in our body. "Thence the real man hidden away in the heart, the light-headed 6r careless or turbulent man or, on the contrary, the more serious or steady or more upright or more mature man can be ascertained. The motion of the body, therefore, can be called the voice of ~he soul." (De Of Kciis, I, 18.) St. Bernard says: "Modesty is the greatest of orn~ments in reli-gious, especially in the young. This is so true that if they do not cherish it there is little hope of their becoming good or virtuous . Lack of external composure in the body is a sign of an indevout mind." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) Knowing how very closely bod~r and soul are united we are not surprised to hear Hugh of St. Victor say: "As of a wandering mind are born disordered move-ments of the body, so when the body is brought under discipline the soul is made strong. Little'by little the mind within is brought to rest when under the watchful eye of dis.cipline its disorderly move- "ments are not allowed to flow to the exterior." (Delnstttuttone' " " Novitiorum, X.) So exterior modesty m.akes even a greater contri-bution to the soul than it does to the body. St. Vincent Ferrer'thought that a warrior of Christ could never free his soul from disorder if he did not first endeavor to rid his body of what was unseemly. From all of which it would seem to be clear why modesty is so much emph.asized in the beginning of the re!igious life: modesty of action and, incidentally, "modesty of words," which 248 Septernber~ 195 l MODESTY is silence. Even a beginner.can superimpose upon himself external order in the blessed hope that from it will come to him an array of spiritual goods. For it is easier to bring one's exterior under subjec-tion than one's interior. Mqdesty has a great apostolic value. St. Basil says that a virgin should "be seen by those who n~eet her to be such in habit and gait and every movement as to reflect the likeness of God. The eyes of those who behoId her should be incited to modesty and their mind instructed in virtue. They.should hold that sight in honor and, as I have said, show deference to and revere that image of God. As pictures of' satyrs make one laugh and as sad pictures fill the mind , with sorrow . so a virgin, since she is the picture--nay, the very reproduction--of purity, should even if merely seen raise the thoughts of those who behold her up to God . Avirgin, therefore, should be very careful to reproduce in herself the divine image in all t.hings." (Patrologia Graeca, 30, 714-715.) St. Francis of Assisi was most eloquent by his modesty. "It is told ofthe blessed St. Francis that he said one day to his companion, ~'Let us go to preach,' and so went out, took a turn in the city, and returned home. His companion said to him: 'BUt father, are v~e not preaching?' 'We have already preached,' he answered. That sedate-ness and modesty with which they, went through the streets was a very good sermon; it moved people to devotion and to contempt of the world, to compunction for their sins, .and to the raising of their hearts, and desires to the.things of the next world. This is a sermon in action, more effectual than one in w6rd.". (Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, II, x, 1.) The very sight of the young Saints Aloysius, Stanislaus, John Berchmans, and Gabriel of the Sorrowful Mother raised men's hearts to God. The gr.eat in-fluence for good of the pr.ayerfuI, recollected, and modest bearing of those who love God is but another striking instance of "actions speaking louder than words." That is why St. Ignatius said: "And hence it will follow that, considering one another, they will increase in devotion and praise our Lord God, whom every one must strive to acknowledge in another as in His image." (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. i, n, 4.) .The beginner must practice modesty, and by doing so he exer- Cises himself in many virtues. But modesty is also the mark of the perfect. A well-ordered exterior shows great interior'perfectlon. The man who has achieved this has already made great'prggr.ess. One 249 C. A. HER,BST Reveiu~ for Relig:ous who habitually and gracefully has his exterior under control has gone far in the direction of self-mastery. If one has to be mortified to be decent, as our novice master used to say, what constant mortifi-cation and vigilance must be necessary .to put on the modesty of Christ. For this, persevering and almost heroic self-conquest is neces-sary. In this connection it might be well to remark that if we put ourselves through the discipline and took all the pains from a super-natural motive to put on modesty, which is the etiquette of God's ch.ildren, that the children of .the world do to don good manners in public and social life, our merit would i~deed be surpassing great and our spirit of sacrifice supreme. "And they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown; but we an incorruibtible one" .(I Cor. 9:25). But then, "the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light" (Luke 16:8). Founders of religious orders have given special directives, "rules of modesty," for regulating external deportment. As those given by St. Ignatius of Loyola even now influence many thousands of reli-gious, it might be well to give some of them here. "All must be exactly careful to guard the gates of their senses (especially their eyes, their ears, and their tongue) from all disorder, and preserve themselves in peace and true internal humility, showing it in silence when it is to be kept, and when they have to speak, in the circum-spection. and, edification of their words, in the modesty of tbelr coun-tenance, gravity of their gait and whole carriage, without any sign of impatience or prided' (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. 1, n. 4.) "In all out-ward actions there should appear modesty and humility, joined with religious gravity. The bead should not be turned this way and that way lightly, but with gravity, when need shall require; and, if there be no need, it must be held straight, with a little inclination forward, without leaning on either side. For the most part, they should keep their eyes dowfi, neither immoderately lifting them up, nor casting them now one way., now another. Wrinkles on the forehead, and still more on the nose, are to be avoided, that there may appear out-wardly a serenity which may be a token of that which is interior. The whole countenance should show cheerfulness rather than sadness or any less moderate affection. The lips must neither be too much. shut nor too much open. The pace should be moderate, without any notable has,.te, unless necessity should require it; in which case, however, a care of decorum should be had. In fine, every gesture and movement should be such as to give edification to all men." (Rule~ 250 September, .MODESTY or: Modesty.). St. Paul says in another connection: "When I was a child,. I °spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the tlSings of a child" (I Cor. 13: 11).'A child must hear and see and taste and smell and touch every-thing. But when he grows up he is willing to put away the things of a child--nay, is eager to. We can hardly imagine a grown-up going on playing with his toys. A man loses taste for such things. So is one as he becomes spiritually mature gradually weaned away, as he attains to th~ full stature of Christ, from the surface pleasure of the senses and the allurements of sense satisfaction. This is the more true the more he grows to relish the things of God. Then the curious ears and roving eyes and anything unbecoming in the countenance. carriage, and gait of childhood give place to that maturity and serenity proper to men and women at horhe with their Father the King. The practice of modesty is not only for religious propriety, or edification, or mortification, or to foster recollection, or to make pos-sible and encourage spiritual development and high interior activity. It is also to keep, our soul from becoming sick or maimed by venial sin or perhaps even killed by mortal sin. "Death is come .up through our windows" said the prophet (Jer.°9:21). St. Bernard comment~: "Death enters our windows when, with prying eyes and itching ears. we insist upon administering to ourselves the deadly cup of distrac-tion." (Sermo 24 in Cantic.) And St. Ambrose: "Who, midst so many bodily passions, midst so many snares of this world, can go along safe and undefiled? The eye sees: the mind is perverted. The ear bears: our attention is drawn away. We sm~ll something: our thoughts are 9bstructed. The lips drink: sin enters in. We touch" something, and we are inflamed with desire." (De Fuqa Saeculi, cap. 1.) That is why Christ, so mindful of human, weakness, instituted for the very end of life a special sacrament for the removal of the re-mains of sin contracted through seiase experience. At the last anointing the priest places the~holy oil "'on the eyes because of sight, on the ears because of hearing, on the nostrils because of smell, on the mouth bedauseof taste and speech, on the hands because of touch, on the feet because of Walking" (Council of Flore~nce, Decretum pro .Arrnenis) saying: "By this holy anointing and.by His most tender mercy may the Lord forgive you whatever guilt you have con- 251 C. A. HERBST tracted." St. Thomas explains: "This sacrament was instituted to" heal us. For a bodily cure we do not take medicine that will restore the whole body but those parts in which the root of the disease lies~ So the sacramental anointings should be made only on those parts where is found the root of the spiritual sickness." (S. Th., Suppl. q. 32, a. 5.) In conclusion, let us listen.again to a few words from that great master of the spiritual Jife, St. Bernard. "With the brethren be re-served, gracious, modest, affable, gentle, and on your guard. Be .strict with yourself but not in such a way as to be a nuisance to others . Every gesture and word, your way of acting, look, gait should be characterized by modesty and reserve. Let there appear nothing con-ceited or stilted in you, no boldness or anything overbea.ring . As the fear of the Lord puts order into a man's lif~ and prepares his whole interior for blessedness, so modesty brings his exterior under subjection. You should not become so familiar with anyone as to be completely forgetful of propriety in his presence." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) After all, "we are made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men'~ (I.Cor. 4:9). And His Divine Majesty is always pres-ent, too. "In him we live, and move, and are" (Acts 17:28); ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE RELIGIEUSI: The Sisters of Providence (Les Soetirs de la Providence) in Montreal have "trans-lated into French six articles on poverty which appeared in the REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS and published them in a booklet. The articles are: "M~y Religious Buy and Sell" (V, 50) and the "Gifts to Religious" series by Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; and 'The Spirit of Poverty" (VIII, 35) by" Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. The "Gifts" se-ries includes: "The Simple Vow of Poverty" (VI, 65), "Common Life and Pe-culium" (VII, 33), "Personal versus Community Property" (VII, 79, and "Some Practical Cases" (VII, 195). Copies of the booklet, called Etude sur la Pauvret3 2eliqleuse, may be obtained from P~ovidence Mother House, 2311, rue Ste-Cath-erine Est, Montreal 24, P.Q., Canada. Cost: 40 cents per single copy; 35 cents in dozen lots or more. ¯PLEASE NOTE C~AREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per veer for Domestic end Cenedian subscriptions: $3.35 per year for ell foreign subscrip-tions. For further deteils pleese see inside beck cover. 252 The race ot: Our Vocal:ion P. De Letter, S.J. [EDITORS' NOTE: In the March number of this year the author of "Why Do They Leave?" concluded the article with an inspiring section headed "Why Do We Stay?" In the present article Father De Letter's analysis of the grace of our voca-tion forms something of a theological counterpart and complement to the latter question. He points out the different graces included in the grace of vocation, namely, the grace of state, the grace of perseverance, the grace of progress, the grace of keeping the rules, and the grace of supererogation. He next gives the solid theological basis for trust in the grace of vocation and concludes by describing God's part, the actual graces of light" and strength, and ours, the conditions for our 'trust. "I will put great trust in the grace of my vocation," wrote St. John Berch-roans among the first of his watchwords. It is of this gr~ice of vocation that Father De Letter writes.] ~i~/JE 'OFTEN HEAR or read about the grace of our religious W" vocation. No doubt we often thank Our Lord for this most precious 6f His gifts. Wi~at exactly is it? Spiritual au-thors use the phrase in a twofold sense, first as the free divine gift by which God calls to the religious life, and secondly as the special helps of grace which enable religious, who have followed the divine call, to meet the demands of their state and to persevere in it till death. 'The second meaning, that of the special helps, of the grace of our vocation will be used. This grace is a reality of our everyday life.,If we allow it to play its part to the full, it may and does make a difference for our own pe£sonal interests and for the souls for whom we labor. For this reason it is well worth studying more closely what the grace of vocation implies and what is the basis of our trust in it. Then it' will be self-evident how we should exploit this God-sent treasure. Grace of State All religiogs, we are told, are offered and receive the grace proper to their vocation. As any other Christians, those who are called to a definite state of life with its definite purpose are offered by the Lord the graces necessary to pursue ,effectively the end of their vocation. This is true both of the general l~urpose of every religious life, which is to seek after Christian perfectioia.or holiness, and of the specific end of each particular order or congregation. Grdce of" Perseuerance in God's Friendship ¯ First'of all, religious are offered and, unless they'wilfully refuse, ~.ctual!y recei~re the actual graces needed to remain permanently on the path thatleads to perfection, "that is, to persevere in sanctifying grace. 253 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious These graces are needed. Theologians commonly teach that without the help of God's grace no one can maintain himself in His friend-ship, because fallen human nature is weak and inclined to evil. But these graces are always offered, theologians reassure us, to all who sincerely endeavour to 'please God and to preserve His love and friendship. And why? Because God's love is faithful: He does not allow to be sr~atched from His hands those who sinqerely desire to be His. If that is the case for all Christians in the state of grace, then it is more true for those whom a special divine call ~lestines for an ever growing perfection of grace. Religious, therefore, m~y count in a special way, by virtue of their very state in life, on the fidelity of the Giver of all graces. He enables them day after day and hour after hour throughout their religious life to avoid every grievous fault. Grace of Progress There is more than that. It is the fundamental duty of state for religious to advance continually in grace and perfection. That again is not possible without the help of God's grace. Our faith teaches us,. infallibly, that no good work for heaven can be performed with-out God;s gracious help. If that is so, and if religious grow in grace precisely by the works of virtue ' (and the reception of the sa.crame,nts, which grace enables them to do properly), then we must say that their Fathe~ in heaven, who is Love, cannot expect them to do thes~ works and not give them the needed help which He alone can give. That is why religious have and receive the graces necessary for the good works that are to lead them on to perfection, the goal of their vocation. ' Grace of Keeping the Rules and Obeying What are these good works? They are, naturally, commanded by the specific end of each religious institute. Concretely, they are laid down in the rules and constitutions: these outline the particular manner in which a religious vocation is to work out its ideal of Christian perfection, These laws and ways, therefore, differ for different institutes.' Hospital sisters, teaching religious, and contem-platives, are not expected to labour for perfection by exactly the same good works. Their respective rules point out to them "by which paths they are'to draw nearer to God. To follow these pathh ~nd no other, each one in the particular.office that is assigned him by the inst.itu, te and. in the community where obedience placed him, .is pnmista.kably the du.ty of state of. every re, ligious. And so all.~e.li- 254 September, 1~ 1 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION gious are offered each day the necessary grace to keep the rules and-fulfil their office: because fidelity to these duties is the concrete way for them to advance towards perfection and fidelity is not possible without these graces. Not every Christian, theologians teach, is at all times offered the grace needed for good works which are not of precept but are supererogatory, because, there is no clear indication that God's will demands these works from them. Only for such good works as are certainly willed by the Lord may we expect His grace to be guaran-teed. But the case of religious is a special one. Though the good ~works demanded by their rules are not, genera'lly speaking, strictly of precept (not at any rate when the religious laws do not bind under pain of sin) and are therefore in a true sense supererogatory, yet the very nature of religious rule implies that God clearly wills those works. His good pleasure and desire is expressed in the rules. By that very fact He also guarantees to ~eligious the necessary graces, ;¢¢ithout which they would be unable to comply with His good pleasure. , This conclusion applies equally to the acts of virtue which obedi-ence to superiors imposes on religious. Commands of religious supe-riors generally (exception being made for orders given in virtue of holy obedience, in whicJ~ the vows are involved) bring to their sub-jects the same kind of obligatiofi as the rules impose. As such, therefore, they do not bind under sin; yet they express to us unmis-takabl~ y the divine wishes. Religious receive the necessary actual graces for obeying the orders of their superiors as they do for keeping the rules. Though these acts of virtue, because not imposed under sin, are supererogatory in the strict sense of the word, yet they are, for religious, guaranteed as possible by the grace of their vocation. "Grace for Supererogatory Acts of Virtue There are additional virtuous actions which are not demanded of religious by rule nor by orders of superiors, but to which, they believe, a special inspiration of the Hgly Ghost invites them. Such good works, for example, extra .acts of mortification, or prayer, or humility, or kindness, are altogether free in the sense that no rule nor direction of obedience imposes them. These are not immediately covered by the grace of the religious vocation. To them will apply the teaching of theologians about supererogatory good works: not unless the invitation of God's grace be sufficiently proved genuine and ?eliablecan they count on His special help to follow up these inspira- 255 P. DE LETTER Review for Religtous tions. It should be added, however, that religious are, from their very state of. life, more opeh to these special invitations of grace. Why?" Because their fundamental duty of state is to aspire after perfection, and not all particulars that appertain to the practice of perfection are or can be determined by the rules or by obedience. Accordingly, religious need these special inspirations. Other things being equal, there is a greater probability that in the case of religious these inspirations of grace are genuine and reliable. To that extent and in that 'indirect way they also belong to the grace of the voca-tion. At this juncture the task of the spiritual director comes in to provide rehglous with sufficient guarantee that allows them safely to follow up these interior invitations. Without this sanction the danger of self-delusion would be real. That danger is excluded from all that falls within clearly known duty. Herein religious may and must depend on it that grace will not be wanting them, if only they themselves are not wanting to grace. Why is it so? Whai: is the dogmatic and theological basis of our trust in the grace of o.u.r vocation? Doctrinal Basis of Our Trust We have already hinted at the intrinsic reason why the grace of our vocation includes all the particular graces needed to fulfill our duties according to the rules and constitutions and the commands of the superiors. It is the following. God cannot command the impos-sible, because of His infinite wisdom and lo,;,e. Of religious He asks a constant strivin~g after perfection: that is the meaning of the reli-gious vocation. They find the concrete way to strive for perfection detailed in the laws of their institutes and the directions of their supe-riors. But to do all that is involved in keeping the rules and in obeying, many good works are needed which no man, religious not excepted, is able to do without the help of grace.: For two reasonsi both because these virtuous actions require a faithful effort which after original sin is not possible for long without grace; and because these acts are supernatural and of their very nature suppose the super-natural help of grace. If then God expected religious to live up to the demands of their vocation and did not at the s~me time give them ~he necessary graces, He would be demanding the impossible. Dogmatic Foundation The. ultimate foundation of this conclusive proof is nothing less than the highest possible authority on revealed truth: ,the infallible 256' ,September, 1~51 THE GRACE OF O~JR VOCATION teaching of the Church. The Council of Trent defined that it is not impossible for men to keep God's commandments; it condemned the contrary assertion of the Lutherans as heretical doctrine (DB 828). In St. Augustine's words the Council explained how men can, in spite of fallen nature's weakness, have the moral strength to do what God commands: "When He commands, He admonishes you to do what you can and to ask for help to do what you cannot, and He helps so that you can" (DB 804). Later. the Church condemned another heretical proposition of dansenistic pessimism which stated that "just men cannot keep some precepts of God even though they wish and try to do so, with the strength they now have; and the graze which would enable them to keep those commandments is also lacking" (DB I092). An infallible teaching, therefore, guarantee, s that we have the necessary graces to keep the commandments. That teaching aimed directly at those divine precepts which oblige under pain of sin, particularly of mortal sin. It may also be extended, though this conclusion is no longer infallible, to divine commands in a less strict serise of the word: to those expressions of the divine will which, though not binding under sin, .yet certainly manifest His desire ind. good pleasure. The Church's Authorit~I This latter is the case, as we well know, of the ordinary religious rules. We have a guarantee for it in the Church's approval both of religious life in general and of the particular religious institutes. The ¯ Church's sanction of the state oflife lived accordin'g to the three evangelical counsels is found in her age:old practice, which dates back td the early Cbristlan centuries, of approving and encouraging tbe monastic institute and the ascetical life. At the time of the Refor-mation it led to an infallible pronouncement, again at the Tridentine Council, by which she declared that the state of viriginity or celibacy is preferable to the state of Matrimony (DB 980). As to the appro-bation of particular institutes, theologians today are agreed in saying that in the solemn approval of religious orders the doctrinai judg-ment that the religious orders,, are apt means to reach Christian per-fection is covered by the Church's infallibility. In the less solemn .confirmation of other religious institutes, the Church's authority in-' volved is not the big.best; yet. that.approval also shares, according.to .the. degree, of the authority" that gives it, in the same fundamental guar.ant~.e:.of truth which is divine. Accordi,ngly? Catholic theology ¯' 257 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious is unanimous, in declaring that the obligation for religious to work for perfection according to the pattern designed in their respective laws is, because of the Church's approbation, the'clear expression of God's will for them. "On this doctrinal foundation rests the teaching of theologians who, like Suar~z, hold that the grace of a religious vocation includes the spe.cial supernatural aids required to live up to the ideal which is proposed to the religious by their institute. He wrote: "Since all ap-proved religious orders are deservedly regarded as founded by the special Providence of God, there is no doubt that each enjoys a'spe-cial divine assistance proportionate to its vocation, and hence greater in proportion as its institute is more exalted and difficult and organ-ized for the greater service of God and the more far-reaching good of the Church" (Rel. S.J., I, 6, 9). What holds good for reli-gious orders as a whole, also applies to the members. The graces of their vocation which effectively enable them to pursue the end of their institute are the concrete expression of the divine assistance that flows from God's special Providence over them. Religious, therefore, are building .their trust on the safe rock of Peter when they firmly believe in the grace of their vocation. More-over, does not the experience of the religioh~ life come to teach them that the Lord does not disappoint that trust? When and in the measure that they are faithful to their calling, they find out what these graces of our vocation mean in practice. Graces of Light and Strength As actual graces in general, so the graces of our vocation are of two kinds which, more often perhaps, are found together rather than isolated. First there is light for the mind, generally more affective and practical" than purely sp~e~uiative and cold (for they are meant to lead to action), by which the meaning and reality of the religious ideal, duties, privileges, favors, appear more clearly, more appealingly, and more exaltedly worthwhile. These' actual graces of light, on occa-sion standing out very markedly, at other times more dim yet really present, give a deeper and new understanding of the rules, of the ideal of poverty; chastity, obedience, of the community life and of our daily tasks of education, missionary work, medical charity, sacred "ministry so that the good works by which religious strive after sand-tity. take on their deep, often hidden, meaning. Together with that light goes a grace of strength and courage for'the will and heart, 25'8 September, 1951 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION tempering and steeling one"s whole moral an~ spiritual structure, actually enabling religious to live according to their light. These graces of fortitude, patience, and ability, make Jrpossible to keep up ¯ the effort for progress, and bravely and gladly to accept and take up the small and on occasion bigger crosses involved in the faithful ful-filment of their daily duties. These graces of strength, at times ex-perienced more forcibly, at other times, perhaps more commonly, perceived in humble and dim faith, smoothen the path towards per-fection which often is rough and always uphiIl. The remembrance of these graces received in the past is a precious confirmation" of Our faith and trust in the grace of our vocation. Condition of Our Trust That faith and trust is rightly ours on one condition: that we do, sincerely and hum.bly, what in us lies to answer the graces we receive. There is little need to insist on the first and foremost part in this cooperation with grace which we may take for granted, namely, that we live in the state of sanctifying grace. Progress in grace supposes the st'ate of grace. Unless the substance of the spiritual life be there, we cannot expect further grace~ for progress. These graces, according to the ordinary rule of Divine Providence, are usually given in proportion to oui" fidelity in accepting and answering them. One way of showing this desire of receiving and exploiting those graces is our faithful and insisting prayer for them. According to the hint of the Council of Trent we quoted above, our asking for graces may well be the condition for receiving them. We may even count on the abundant divine aids guaranteed by the grace of our vocation if we sincerely and generously trade for spiritual profit with those we receive. No doubt even then no one can vouch for it that he will never fail God's grace, even though grace does not fail him. We know it too well, human frailty remains in religious as well. And we need not be surprised at our daily faults of weakness which, we may confi-dently hope, involve but little guilty negligence. Provided. only we know how to exploit those very failings to deepen humility and a sense of our need of prayer and trust in the Lord, they do not seri-ously impair our fidelity to grace. Our desires and deeds continue then to express our sincere gratitude for God's great gift, our call to the religious life. Then we may and must always count on the grace of our vocation. 259' A Vocational Newspaper [Contact, a bright, four-page, two-year-old vocational newspaper from the arch-diocese of Boston, may be of interest to readers of the REVIEW who are not ac-quainted with it. The following description was written by a staff member of the publication. For further information write to: Director of Vocations, Room 622, 185 Devonshire St., Boston, M~,ss. ED.] Maintaining that "Personal contact between an interested priest or religious and a good potential candidate becomes the only real vocation program," Father Francis A. Barry, director of vocations in the Boston archdiocese, thought that a vocational newspaper might provide a natural occasion for conversation or 'even extended talks on religious vocations. The paper was given the significant name: Contact. Experience has shown the idea was a 'good one. Contact, a monthly during the school year, began publicati.o.n in October, 1949. His Excellency, the Most Reverend Richard J. Cushing, Archbishop of Boston, the founder of the special vocational program, is the adv.isory editor. The editor is Father Barry. He is assisted by eight associate, a makeup, and ten contributing editors. The latter include diocesan and religious priests, Brothers, and Sisters who write columns, features, reviews, and editorials. His Excellency financed the project during its initial year. The religious orders and congregations having houses in the archdiocese shared the major ex-pense since then. , Distributed gratis" to pupils of parochial or other Catholic schools, from the seventh grade through the senior year in school as well as to Sunday schools, rectories, and seminaries, the circulation now tops 50,000." Increased solely by ~ear-say advertising, the mailing li~t now re'aches out to thirty-one s.tates, the Philippine's, Cuba, Italy; France and Canada. The italicized, three-column, colored logotype carries the triple message: Information, Inspiration, and Action. To attract the young people's attention, each issue is printed with bright color spots, ac.cording to the season or month. Adjacent to some of the standing heads appears a small portrait of the editor of the column, showing his religio.us habit ahd giving his name and address. Feature pictures and action shots of'the apostolate of teaching or social service highlight each issue. Provocative headlines dot the pages: It Seems to Me . Horizons, Meet. some religious com- 260 September, 1951 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS ~nunity, Looking Out . thought from the seminary or the novi-tiate, Do You KnoW?, Parents" Column, and Around tile Diocese. Parochial high school reporters keep copy flowing to the desk of the editor of the last-mention~ed column. Contact reiterates the words of His Holiness, Pope Pius XII: "This vcJcation, thisloving call makes itself heard in manydifferent ways, as many as the infinite variety of accents in which the Divine Voice may speak: irresistible invitations, affectionate and repeated promptings,gentle impulses."--SISTER MARY REGINA, S.S.,J. Offering Communion t:or.Ot:hers Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. SISTER LOUISA sat placidly at her desk filling out the spiritual bouquet. It was the community's gift to Sistdr Mercedes who was to make her p~ofession next day. Sister Louisa was adding her contribution to the various specified good works-- rosaries, s{ations, visits, penances,, aspirations, Masses, Communions. It was an easy and congenial task and she contributed generously. But when she had finished, she found a question e.ngaging her mind,. a question she had never asked herself before. She had added five to the total of Commuriions to be offered for Sister Mercedes. 3ust what did it mean to offer Communion for somebody else? She ~had been doing it for many years. Her relatives and friends were always pleased when she told them that she would offer her Communion for them. Yet she had to confess now that she really did not know what she meant wh'en she told them that'she would offer her Communion for their intention. Many religious besides Sister Louisa have been puzzled by the same question. Nor is its answer easy to find. The purpose of this article is to clarify what we mean when we tell others that we are going to offer our Communion for them. It is important to remember that Communion produces certain effects that are inalienable. For instance, Communion automatically increases sanctifyin~ grace and most probably has the power,to con-fer more of this grade than any other sacrament. We do not transfer 261 - CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Ret~ieto for R'eligious any of this to others when we offer our Communion for them. Again, the increase of active love for Go~t and our neighbor which is the .special effect of the Eucharist and which depends on the fervor of our thanksgiving, is not surrendered by offering Communion for somebo~ly else. So too, the strength to resist temptations, the cooling of disordered feelings, since these are special though secondary effects of Communion and depend also on the fervor of one's thanksgiving, are incommunicable. The same is t6 be said of the additional right to a glorious bodily resurrection which is acquired by the worthy reception of Communion. Finally, the remission of venial sins which results automatically from Communion, if the recipient has sincerely revoked all wilful attachment to them, cannot be transferred to any other person. From all this it is ~lear that the principal benefits accruing from the Lord's Table remain with the communicant. In fact it might appear that no spiritual gifts remain which can lend real meaning to our promise to offer Communion for somebody else. But there are. When we ~o to Holy Communion we ordinarily do extra praying and a certain ambunt of mortification. We make a suitable prepara-tion and thanksgiving. We also fast beforehand. Now we all know that prayer and fasting are subjective acts of virtue, ~nd when made by a person in the state of grace, they have a three-fold value in the sight of God. For the sake of brevity, the theologians use tbre'e tech-nical words to express this three-fold efficacy. They say 'it is "meri-torious, satisfactbry, and impetrative." What they mean is that every act of virtue wins more sanctifying grace (meritorious efficacy), removes some temporal punishment (satisfactory), and pleads with God for spiritual and temporal favors (impetrative). In addition, therefore, to the sanctifying grace which comes spontaneously from each Communion, a person also gets more sanc-tifying grace from his acts of virtue elicited before and after receiving the sacrament. Since we can never give one iota of sanctifying grace, no matter by what means it is acquired, to another person, it is evi-dent that the grace proceeding from these acts of virtue at Commun-ion time is also retained by the communicant. However, the satisfactory and impetrative efficacy of these acts may be relinquished in favor of others when we offer Communion for them. Suppose we consider first the gift we make when we hand over the satisfactory fruits of our Communions. Ordinarily we are able to make a fitting preparation for the 262 oep*e,noer, I95 ! COMMUNION FOR OTHERS reception of Holy Communion. Not only do we fast, rise early, kneel down, but we also make acts of faith, hope, confidence, desire, humility, and perhaps acts of perfect love for God. Now each of these acts of penance and of prayer, by reason of our good subjective dispositions which accompany them, has the power to take away some temporal punishment. Moreover, since we are the ones who do the penance and say the prayers, we have the right to have our otot~ temporal punishment lessened by them. What happens, then, when we offer Communion for another? We transfer this incalculable benefit to the other party and, if he is in the state of grace, he receives it. The same is to be said of'the~ prayers we say at the moment when we receive our divine Lord and during the time that He remains pres-ent within us. We communicate the satisfactory value of all these prayers to the other person. Instead of shortening our own purga-tory we shorten the purgatory of another. We', so to speak, suffer vicariously and gratuitously for some one who has no real claim to our sacrifice. If we reflect for a moment, we shall also understand why the satisfactory efficacy of these virtuous acts preceding, accompanying, and following Holy Communion exceeds that produced by the same acts elicited at some other time. We suppose, of course, that our fer-vor (and by that we refer not to our feelings, but to our acts of will) would be equal in both instances. We shall also understand why Communion remits more temporal punishment than other prayers listed in a spiritual bouquet--for example, rosaries or visits to the chapel. We take for granted, of course, that our cooperation would be equally diligent and that the same number of acts of virtue would be made. Otherwise it could easily happen that a rosary re-cited devoutly and animated by many acts of virtue would remit more temporal punishment than a Communion prepared ~or and received listlessly and negligently. Buy other thin~s being on a par, there is an objective reason why Holy Communion should take away more temporal punishment than the rosary or other pious works. The truth of this statement rests .on the fact that ordinarily the acts of virtue we make in connection with Communion are more fer-vent (here again we do not refer to feelings of fervor) and more numerous than those evoked by other works of piety. This is pa.r-ticularly tru~ of the prayers we say during our thanksgiving' after Communion. And it should be noted that temporal punishment is 263 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious canceled in proportion to the fervor and number of our.tSrayers. But why should our prayers after Communion be more fervent? Because Christ is then physically present within us. As a result of His sacramental presence, both the number and the quality of the actual grac'es showered upon us are ~uperi6r to those which necessarily accompany every pious supernatural work. After Communion our Savior inserts a continuous stream of vivifying actual graces into our minds and hearts, and these graces have as their general object, not to arouse merely confidence or faith or humility, but love itself, the most noble of all the virtues. If we ponder these facts, we shall. readily see. why our prayers after Communion have a singular power to reduce the debt of punishment incurred by somebody else. So much for th~ satisfactory value of Holy Communion. We can be comparatively brief in treating of the sacrament's impetrati've fruit because it rests on the same principles we have been discussing. By offering Communion for others, v~e also mean that we trans-mit to them the petitional power of both our preparation and thanksgiving. The very same acts of virtue have not only a satis-factory, but also a pleading or intercessory value. They implore God to brant spiritual and temporal f~vors. Here again, since we are the ones who do the praying, we are the one~ who have a right to obtain the favors. But we,relinquish this right in fav~)r of other~ when we offer our Communion for them. We forget our own needs; we fore-go some benefits that would surely come to ourselves. ~re sacrifice ourselves for the other party. Of course, we must remind ourselves again that we cannot surrender those benefits that flow spontaneously from the Sacrament, such as the remission of venial sins, the growth in love for God and other people, the new title to everlasting glory and the curbing of unruly impulses. But there are many other spiritual and temporal favors that every person needs. There are .many that we ourselves need, even though we often do.not know precisely what" they are. Yet we forget our-. selves and transfer the intercessory vigor of our Communions to others when we offer Communion for them. It is like writing a let-ter of recommendation f6r som~ one else to obtain a benefit that you yourself need and have a right to; and it is a letter of recommenda-tion that you know is certain to be heeded. It is well to remember also that this impetrative efficacy of~Com-reunion is likewise of exceptional ~luality, just as the satisfactory efficacy, and for the same reason. The number and kind of actual 264 September, I~51 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS graces stirred up in the soul after. Communion exceed those accom-panying other good works. .Consequently if we co-operate with them, our acts of virtue will be correspondingly more fervent so that their pleading value is enhanced. Unfortunately, most of us probably do not pray explicitly "after Communion for the person for whom' we offer the Communion. This is, of course, not necessary since our intention made beforehand suffices to obtain for the otber~the satisfactory and impetrative fruits of the sacramefit. However, if we do remember to pray expressly for the' other person after we have received Communion, we shall un-doubtedly increase the value of our gift for him. It stands to reason that our Savior' listens to our. requests with a more willing ear when He is actually present within us with His Sacred Humanity. We recommend, therefore, the practice of praying explicitly after receiving Communion for the person to whom we relinquish the benefits. We may even ask Our Savior to grant certain spedfic favors, especially spiritual ones, to the other party. In conclusion, then, we cannot give away to anyone else the ¯ principal fruits of our Holy Communions. These we have itemized in the beginnihg. In addition to those listed, we might also add that when an indulgence is granted for the reception of Communion or for some prayer said,before or after receiving the Sacrament, we can-not offer it for another living person. Nevertheless, we do a singular favor foi others .when we offer a Communion for their intention. We sacrifice'for theirbenefit the satisfactory and impetrative fruits which are won by our acts of virtue preceding, accompanying, and follow-ing Holy Communion. MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS Medico-Moral Problems, Part III, by Gerald Kelly, S.J., contains complete dis-cussions of euthanasia, therapeutic abortion, organic transplantation,, and adult baptism. Also included are discussions of co-operation in illicit operations, the delivery of a. hydrocephalic infant, and lobotomy for pain relief. The booklet is published by the Catholic Hospital Association of the United States and Canada, 1438 South Grand'Blvd., St. Louis 4, Mo. 50 cents a copy; 12 for $5.25; 50 for $,20;' 100 for $37.50. Parts I and II can be obtained at the same place and at the same prices. 265 uestdons and Answers --20- An unexpected opportunity has arisen to sell a piece o{ communlt~ property {or $100,000, which is much more than we could get for it under normal circumstances. But the property must be transferred.withln ten days, otherwise the offer will be wlfhdrawn. VVhat shall we do about gefflng permission of the Holy See? Fortunately His Excellency, the Apostolic Delegate, now has faculties from the Sacred Congregation of Religious to permit the contracting of loans, sales, and alienations of property belonging to a religious institute, when the sum involved does not exceed a half million gold dollars, provided that the conditions laid down in canons 534 and 1531 be observed. We take this opportunity to inform our readers that the Sacred Congregation of Religious has also granted two other special facul-ties to the Apostolic Delegate: to dispense.religious for the reception of Holy Communion from the obligation of the Eucharistic fast so that they may take something by way of drink or m. edicin~, when their physician considers the keeping of the fast injurious to their health; also to shorten or prolong the postulancy prescribed by the Code of Canon Law (see Bouscaren, Canon Lau2 Digest, Supplement 1943-1948, p. 131, under canon 858). m2 I-- I have heard that permission of the Holy See is required {or th~ aliena-tion of notable relics and images. Is it proper ÷o infer that relics and ¯ venerated images may be bought and sold? Does his include sacred vessels? To .buy and sell is only one form of alienation. Hence it does not follow as a general rule that relics and venerated images may be bought and sold simply because the Holy See at times gives permis-sion to alienate such things. Since three distinct things are included in this question we think it advisable to treat each class separately. Relics. Canon 1289 states very plainly: "It is unlau~[ul (nefas) to sell sacred relics." To do so would be to commit a sin of simony. However, it would not be sinful to charge and pay for the metal case in which the relics are usuhlly inclosed. Canon 1281, § I tells us that "notable relics or precious images, and likewise all relics or images 266 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Which are honored in any church with great devotion on the part of the people, cannot be alier~ted validly nor transferred permanently to another church without the permission of the Holy See." What is me~tnt by notable relics? Paragraph two of canon 1281 gives us a list of notable relics: the body, head, arm, forearm, heart, tongue, hand, leg, or that part of the' body in which the martyr suffered, provided it be "entire and" not too small." Such relics may not be alienated without the permissi6n, of the Holy See. Since it is for-bidden to sell. relics, alienation here must be taken in its other meaning, that is, to give away, to lend, and the like. The permission of" the Holy See would be required also to alienate relics which °are not notable; provided that they are honored in a church with great devotion on the part of the faithful. Small relics in the possession of private persons do not come under canon 1281, but they may never be sold. Precious [maqes. Ecclesiastical goods (church property) are shid to be.precious,when they have a ~pecial value by reason of artistic, historical, or material content (canon 1497, § 2). An image is said to be precious if it was painted by a great artist, or was made of precious materials, and has a notable valu&, that'is, over 1000 gold life (about $335 in our present money). Such images, as well as others which are not precious but which may be called venerable because of the great devotion of the faithful towards them, may not be alienated without the permissiqn of the Holy See. Sacred Vessels. Things are said to be sacred when they are .destined for divine worship by reason of their consecration or con-stitutive blessing. Canon 1305 tells us that "an article of sacred equipment which is blessed or consecrated loses its blessing or conse-cration . . . if it has been put to degrading uses 6r has been exposed for public sale." On the other hand, canon 1539 states that "in the sale or exchange of sacred things no account of the consecration or blessing is to be taken in determining the price." We may say, there-fore, that sacred vessels may be sold privately by one individual to another, or by one moral person to another (a church or community to another church or community) provided no extra charge is made for the blessing or consecration. But sacred things may not be exhibited publicist for sale without losing tbeir blessing or consecra-tion. This applies principally to auction sales and to the placing of a sacred object in the window or in the show case of a store open to the public. 267 QUEST, IONS AND A .NSWERS Reuieu) for'Religious We may conclude by adding that a consecrated chalice and paten do not lose their consecration'by being regilded (canon 1305, § 2). May exfreme unction be admlnls+ered before any major opera÷ion? For the valid reception of extreme unction the subject must be in " danger of death ¯from sickness or old age. If the person who is to, undergo major surgery is already in this condition, he is capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation. It may be that this is ge~nerally the case, but it is not necessarily so. Some operations which may entail a great deal of danger are performed for removing some chronic condition which might not become dangerous, without the operation, for a long time. Such patients cannot be anointed before the operation. In practice, it is not easy to decide whether to anoint a person. before an operation or t6 hwait the outcome of the operation. ¯ There is no universally-established practice; nor could there be: Some patients are clearly not capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation; others are clearly capable; and still others are "borderline cases." Moreover, the pastor or chaplain has not merely to decide whether the patient can be validly anointed l~ut also to judge when the anointing would be most appropriate and beneficial. Our ¢ons+ffufions +el[ us +ha+ "[eff~rs fo +he S~s+ers as well as +hose senf by +hem shall pass +hrough ÷he hands of +he superior who may read +hem," In view of +hls s+a+emen+, may a eAenera[ chap+er eAranf +o 9olden jubilaHans +he prlvllecAe' of seal[n~ +belt leffers before ~ivlng ÷hem ÷o +hl superlor7 "-['he general chapter has no power to change the constitutiofis, unless the constitutions themselves give it that power, which is not likely. On the other hand, since the constitutions' do not oblige the superior 'to read all letters which pass through her hands, the general chapter could recommend that superiors refrain from reading the letters of golden jubilarians, but it could not take away the right to read them which is contained in the constitutions. The general chapter may likewise request that the constitutions be changed in this matter, if that be the wish of the majority. Such a request for a change in the constitutions would be made to the local ordinary in the case of a diocesan congregation, or to the Holy See (Co.ngrega-tion of Religious) in the case of a pontifical institute. 268 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Ret~iew /:or Religious m24-- Is the novice master to be present at the discussion of the general council which follows upon his report on the novices who are preparing for first professlon? Canon 563 reads as follows: "During the course of the year of novitiate, the master of novices, conformably to the constitutions, must present to the .chapter or the higher superior a report con-cerning the conduct of each of the novices." Strictly speaking there-fore, the master of novices makes his report to the chapter (in inde-pendent monasteries! or to the higher superior, but not directly to the gefieral council, unless the constitutions prescribe this. Hence a written report should be given the higher .superior who, in turn, will communicate it to the general council. Many constitutions have an article based on art. 300 of the Norrnae which says that "whenever in the general council the novices or the novitiate is discussed, the mistress should be called, who will make known her mind on the subject under discussion, or submit opportune information." There will be no need (and certainly no obligation) for the master of novices to remain at the council session after he has given the infor-mation prescribed by canon 563. If necessary, h~ can always be called back for further information. ~-25-- Is it permissible for sick Sisters who are not completely bedridden to ¯ receive Holy C~ommunion by the cell of a Sister who is confined perman-ently to her bed. These Sisters can manage to get around although the doctor's orders are that they rest as much as possible. Likewise the sana-torium in which they stay has' an elevator and the chapel is on the first floor. The general rule is that all should receive Holy Communion in the chapel if they can conveniently do so. If the Sisters are so sick that they are obliged to miss Holy Mass, even though they are up and about their rooms or in the corridor, they may receive Holy Com-munion on the floor on which they li~'e. As to the elevator: if the Sisters use .it to go to'another floor for their meals, then they should use it likewise to go to the chapel to receive Holy Commu'nion. In general one may say that if going to the chapel for Holy Com-munion would lengthen the time for the Eucharistic fast, or would put ar~ additional strain upon a sick Sister who is not confined to her 269 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS Review [or Reh'gious bed, she may receive Holy Communion on the floor on which she lives. --26-- Is the practice of saying I000 Hall Marys on the Feast of the Annun-ciation ÷o be considered a superstition? Everything. will depend upon the motive a person has in re-peating the Hail Mary that often on the Feast of the Annunciation. If this is done simply out of love for Our Lady, there is nothing wrong with it, since, it is a laudhble act of devotion. ~If, on the other hand, the practice were based upon a ~purious ,revelation, or a sup-posed efficacy which it does not have of its own nature (that of intercessory prayer), then it might be superstitious. New Medi!:a!:ion Books Like St. Teresa of'Avila, many religious,need a meditation book for many years to help them in their prayer. Four such books, writ-ten as helps for contact with God in prayer, have recently been pub-lished or reprinted. The authors are a German Capuchin, an Ameri-can Jesuit in India, an American Benedictine, and a Hungarian bishop. The books vary in purpose, content, and form. Direct, ~arnest, Practical One of the books is the fourth volume of MEDITATIONS by Father Bernardine Goebel, O.F.M.Cap., translated by Father Berch- 'mans Bittle, O.F.M.Cap. Adapted for the use of the Friars Minor Capuchin, the direct, earnest, and practical reflections will help any follower of the Gospel. The present volume is for the'time from Trinity Sunday to the Twelfth Sunday biter Pentecost. The meditation for Sundays is usually on the Gospel of the.day. Some of the topics developed f6r the course of a week are the Eucharist, the Mass, faith, hope, char!W, and love of .neighbor. Each meditation begins with a brief sum-mary of the meditation followed by a brief introductory paragraph, develbps two points w.ith a consid,eration and*application, and ends with a prayer. (Province of St. Joseph, 1740 Mt. Elliott Ave., Detroit 7, Michigan, 1950. Pp. 264. $2.50.) Prodac~ of Missionarg Zeal From the 'mission.field ~f Ifidia comes MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY 270 " September, 1951 NEW MEDITA'FION BOOKS DAY by Rev. P. J. Sontag; S.J. It has recently been reprinted in an attractive two volume set. The first volume containin~ I87 medi-tations covers the first half of the liturgical year from Advent to Trinity Sunday. The second volume complete~ the year bringing the total number to 369. Most of the meditations are based on the life of Christ. Meditations on the Apostles Creed, the Our Father, the sacraments, on social justice and Catholic Action are included, as ¯ ycell as meditations for the First Fridays, the lit.urgical feasts, feasts of special saints, and over twenty meditations "honoring Mary. Though the meditations'were l~repared specifically for the l~iity, priests, seminarians, and all religious will find them belpful. Each meditation fias two or three (the. additional gives the account from Scripture) preludes and three ¯points which contain ample matter for reflection. For the colloquy, the author modestly hnd wisely con-fines himself to suggesting the person, Our Lord or a saint, to ad-dress. The set belongs to the Science and Culture Series and has a preface by the general editor, Joseph Husslein, S.J. (The Bruce Publishing Company, 400 N. Broadway, Mil,waukee 1, Wisc., 1950. Pp. I, xviii q- 476; II, ix q- 466. $10.00.) Goal ol: Monasticism Volume three completes THE.SCHOOL OF THE L, ORD'S SERVICE by, Rev. Bernard A. Sause, O.S.B. (author of "Bene, dicti~e Spirit-uality," REVIEW, X, 7). The set gives a meditation based on the Rule of St. Benedict for every day of the" year. The present volume for the ninth to the twelfth month contains the text of the Rule of St. Benedict and thirty meditations on ea'cb .of the foll~)wing four subjects: spirit of detachment: good zeal': practices, interpretations. and attitudes that have grown from the Rule: and intimate union with God. There is a bibliography and a composite index for the three volumes. Each meditation contains a carefully developed consideration, an examen for the day, and a practical application. The considerations are enriched by quotations, examples, and commehts ~arnered from Benedictine tradition, The sources are given after each meditation. The author's" development of zeal is especially noteworthy. He pre-sents the virtue of zeal in a concrete, appealing'manner by singling out for each day of the month a Benedictine monk, nun, or lay Brother who exemplified some aspect of zeal in his or her life. Not all of the exam, plats are canonized saints. The book deserves and 2'71 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS rewards a careful, prayerful reading. (St. Meinrad, Indiana: The. Grail, 1951.' Vol. iII, Pp. vi q- 575. $4.00.) Devotion and Inspiration Rt. Rev. Ottokar Proh~szka, bishop of Sz~kefeh~rvfir, who died on March 28, 1927, was an outstanding and saintly prelate and a gifted, prolific writer. His MEDITATIONS ON THE GOSPELS are brief, s.wift-moving reflections on the entire life of Our Lord. He presents a text from the New Testament, gives a few short reflections, and leaves preludes, affections, and colioquies to the exercitant. The meditations should be a source of devotion and inspiration to many. The author w!;ites in the introduction to his work: '"I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly.' I wish to serve this purpose of Jesus at His Incarnation, and to that end I am sending this book out into the world. It is intended to assist in the development of the life of Cbrist within our souls . Christ is God Himself in human shape, and I have to adore Him, and delight in His sublime beauty, in the depth and unique quality of His Soul, in the powerful originality of His mind, in the charm which He diffuses and in the life which flows forth from Him. My soul hangs upon His lips and hearkens to His every word. I see God reflected in Him as in a mirror; I bow my head upon His bands and surrender my heart to Him. He is God's Instrument; He will form me and harmonize thd conflicting elements within me." The present Newman edition bad three volumes fin one. The authorized translation from the Hungarian is by Margaret de Pill. Father C. C. Martindale, S.J., has written the foreword. (Wes.t-minster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1951. Pp.: I, xiv + 229; II, ix + 322; III, viii + 282. $5.50.) SPIRITUAL BOOK ASSOCIATES (381 Fourth Ave., New York 16, N.Y.) September Selection--R. Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Our Saviour and His Love for Us. $6.00. October Selection--Henri Petitot, O.P. The True Story of Saint Bernadette. (Cf. REVIEW, May '51, p. 161). $3.50. 272 ¯ 8ook Reviews THE HISTORY OF THE POPES. By Ludwlcj yon Pastor. Translated by E. F. Peeler. Vol. 36: Benedict XIV (1740-1758). Pp. 513; Vol. 37: Clement XIII (1758-1769). Pp. 4S8. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Missouri. $5.00 per volume. This REVIEW (September, 1950) carried a notice of Volume 35 of the English Pastor, showing Pope Benedict XIV in the opening years of his pontificate working "with a pistol at his head," 'a weapon held by Catholic sovereigns demanding that he let them run the Church as well. ' It was particularly in m'eeting their concerted attack on the Society of ,lesus that Benedict XIV fought for his papal powers. Now Volume 36, the latter part of Benedict's pontificate, and 37, that of Clement XIII, come t6 hand, and their entire content is predominantly devoted to later phases of this titanic contest. Even so they bring the st.ory only to the end of the second last Act, and tfien break off while the~ translator works on the ddr~otternent. Will the Society, in the end, be suppressed? Will this regiment, of twenty-two thousand religious, in some forty provi,ces, 600 col-leges and over 1400 churches, be sacrificed? Read the next volume to foll~w shortly. To religious of both sexes, and members of whatever type of canonical organization, this story cannot but have deep and abiding interest. That it chanced to be the Ignatian Society against which the storm broke was because it was the "Swiss Guard" of the day, and the ruler of the Swiss Guard can expend his troops in battle, or order them back to the barracks to disband. Despite the faults and human weaknesses of the papacy's de-fenders, the story leaves them with the honorable distinction of. "canonical" death in the line of duty. Certain European monarchs were persuaded that the papacy had to be cut down to reasonable size. As the Minister Tanucci put it (37, 13) : "Certainly the primacy of the Pope was incontestable; he was the supreme head and centre of the Church; he had the right to summon a General Council, and he was infallible, but only when 15e made decisions in conjunction with the Bishops. But the Papacy in the form it had assumed in his day would have to. be abolished." 273 BOOK REVIEWS "The only way to treat the Pope was to . . . kiss his feet and bind his hands'~ .(28). So, under forms of exquisite politeness and courtly'deference, a violent strtiggle was waging. If the current tyranny of atheisti~ Commu, nism were being carried, on under the appearance of Catholic Leadership, if Marshal Stalin had his official minister at the Vatican to shape Catholic policy,.we could all the easier understand the high and mighty language of "unavoidable administrative necessity" that permeates these endless pages of eighteenth century despotism: It was proved with mathematical precision again and again that the mon-archs were but acting for the Church's good in withstanding the Pope, etc. Have we not heard these tunes being aired in our own day? Will it. be different in the twenty-second century, or the twenty-fifth? Details are all irrelevant; the contest wages still: evil has not prevailed, but it availeth much--GERALD ELLARD, S.J. THE LOVE OF GOD AND THE GROSS OF JESUS. By ÷he Rev. Regl-nald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Transl~÷ed by Sisfer Je~n~e Marle, O.P. Volume Two. Pp. vi q- 461. B. Herder Book C;o., Sf. Louis, 1951. $~.00. This volume carries forward and completes Father Garrigou- Lag~ange's studies on divine love and the perplexing trials that are apt to befall souls fairly far advanced in the way of that love. Briefly this is the content of it. Part one deals with "crosses of the senses." These ar4 understood to be just what St. 3ohn of the Cross describes as "the night of sense," and hence here we ,have Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange's interpretation of that portion of St. 3ohn's doctrine. Correspondingly the second part is taken up with St. dohn's !'night of the spirit." Both sections, therefore, are concerned with what one might term the dark, distressing, disconsolate, phase of the mystical life. Part three is headed, "The Life of Union through desus and Mary." Among the themes considered are the inhabita-tion of the Blessed Trinity, the unity and sublimity of the apostolic life, the priesthood of Christ, His kingship, the Blessed Virgin Mary as a model of reparation, and St. 3oseph as a model of the hidden life and first among the saints. As parts one and two would com-fort'and strengthen one who is suffering, the rigors of the night of the soul, so this third part has much that is positively very magnificent and inspiring. The Three Ages of the Interior Life is expressly offere~l to the 274 September, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS public by Ft. Garrigou-Lagrange as a synthesis of this work and Christian Perfection and Contemplation (vol. I, v). Hence it shares in the merits and demerits of that larger and later work. These were discussed at length pro and con'in this REVIEW previously (Novem-ber, 19'49, pp. 297-317; March, 1950, 78-95). ' Since The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus was subsequently incprporated in The Three Ages and presented there in the form which the author now prefers, it seems rather surprising that it should be translated and published at this time. Except for scholars who wisl~ to see both studies, one who wants Fr. Garrigou- Lagrange's ideas on these matters should preferably seek them in the later and more definitiire work--AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST~ By John of St. Thomas. Trenslated fro~ the Latin by Dornin~c Hucjhes, O.P. With e Foreword by Walter Farrell, O.P. Pp. x -f- 293. Sheed end Ward, New York, 19SI. "$3.7S. Now Fr. Hughes has done, and in beautiful form, for English readers what Madame RaissaMaritain did a number of years ago for the French, that is, he has made a translation of the celebrated

Issue 22.5 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Personal Integrity and Intellectual Obedience If only through what we may term'a nebulous feeling of supernatural discomfort, no thoughtful religious long escapes the knotty problems implied in his reasoned re-actions to his superior's directives. Sooner or later he wonders how the perfection of obedience could possibly and honorably require that he judge to be wise and prudent what he may on occasion strongly feel to be un-wise and imprudent. Some of the implications of this complex question we have explored in two previous articles.1 The interest shown in these questions together with the oral and epistolary discussions consequent on them have prompted us to propose several additional problems and to seek suitable solutions to them. The Problems Religious superiors, like the rest of humankind, usu-ally do not know what we may call the content of the divine will. As I type this sentence I cannot be certain that objectively speaking this is what God prefers me to be doing at this moment. When a major superior as-signs a religious to teach the tenth grade, he cannot be sure that such is precisely the divine preference for this particular religious. In both of these cases all we can know is that our action, and our intentions are good. At times we may be reasonably assured that the action we contemplate is in its concrete circumstances better than some other, but even then we do not see how God judges the situation. Does not our inability to know the content of God's will render pointless the whole concept of intellectual obedience? Is the subject supposed to conform his judg- 1"Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience," R~w~w FOR RrLtO~OOS, v. 19 (1960), pp. 67-76, and "The Superior's Precept and God's Will," REVIEW FOR RELmXOOS, v. 20 (1961), pp. 435--41. 4, 4" Thomas Dubay, S.M., is the spiritua director at Notr. Dame Seminary' 2901 South Carroll ton Avenue; Ne~ Orleans 18~ Louisi aria. VOLUME 22, 196~ 49~ ÷ + ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4:9,1 ment to the superior's judgment because the latter is somehow expressing the thought of God when he com-mands? And if the superior is not expressing the divine mind, why should one try to think as he thinks? Meaning of Intellectual Obedience Before we wrestle with these questions, we should per. haps review the fundamental principles involved. And among them we may recall first of all that intellectual obedience implies the attempt of a subject to see the wisdom of his superior's decision. While it does not re-quire a man to call black white when his superior is manifestly wrong, yet it is more than an assent to the mere proposition that God wills the non-sinful act of compliance. This latter assent plainly is not a conformity to the thought of the superior (as the classical concept of intellectual obedience would have it) or even an at-tempt at conformity (with which the classical concept would be content when more is not possible). Agreeing that God wills execution of a given command is nothing more than an assent to a universally received principle of Catholic theology: God wills obedience to legitimately constituted authority. Intellectual obedience according to the formulation of St. Ignatius .Loyola in his well known letter (from which Pius XII said we may not depart) requires that the subject "think the same, submitting his own judg-ment to the Superior's, so far as a devout will can incline the understanding." And hence in the many matters in which evidence is not coercive, "every obedient man should bring his thought into conformity with the thought of the Superior" (America Press edition, ;~ 9). This doctrine presents no problem when the subject possesses a founded certitude that his superior is either right or wrong. In the first case his judgment is con-formed by the very seein~ that the direction is correct, and in the second there is no need to try to conform to what is obviously false. The problem arises in debatable matters, matters in which an honest and objective man will agree that there may be something to be said for each of two or more opposing views. Since the evidence in these cases.is not coercive, a religious practices in-tellectual obedience when he makes a serious attempt to see reasons ~or the superior's view as well as for his own. We spont.aneously conjure up reasons for our own opinions, and so intellectual honesty hardly requires much effort regarding this half of the situation. But we do not spontaneously think up reasons for an opposing opinion, and so effort is requisite if we are to be co~n-pletely open. While this effort should be made in our disagreements with any man, it is especially needful in the relationship of the subject to his superior. Because of the position the latter holds as a representative of divine authority and because we may presume that this representafive re-ceives divine help in the exercise of his office (not, how-ever, a help that makes him infallible), the ftillriess of religious obedience bespeaks an especial effort to agree with his thought insofar as honesty permits and a devout will can bring it about. When a good religious, therefore, receives an unpalatable directive, this third and highest degree of obedience suggests that he make an earnest at-tempt to see his superior's point of view whenever the matter is important enough to consider motives at all. Man's Knowledge of the Divine Will From the point of view of the divine will, we may re-call to what extent a conformity is possible and in what sense a superior may be said to manifest that will. A man's will is materially conformed to God's when he wills precisely what God wills. If God were to give him a pri-vate revelation indicating exactly what He wished done at a given time and if the recipient of the revelation carried out the command, there would be a material con-formity. In this case the person's activity would corre-spond exactly with what we have called the content of the divine will. On a moment's reflection one can easily see that a material conformity known to be such is usu-ally impossible. A man simply does not know as a ,rule precisely what God knows to be the preferable course of action together with the circumstances that should sur-round the action. A religious superior is no exception to this limitation on our knowledge of the divine intellect and will. Frequently the superior cannot know that this directive or that is exactly what God would like done at this time and in these circumstances. And if the superior cannot know, neither can the subject. Formal conformity, however, is another matter. It re-fers to the motives one has in doing whatever he does. A man conforms his will to God's when he refers what he does to the divine good. Such is the conformity that St. Paul taught when he enunciated the command that we do all for the motive of God's glory: "Whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor 10:31). While we often cannot know the content of the divine good pleasure and therefore cannot be sure whether or not we possess a material conformity to it, we can always know the motive with which we are to act, and thus we can be sure that we possess a formal con-formity. Hence, even thongh I cannot be sure that my proposal to give ten dollars to this particular poor man is the best thing I could do with the money (God may 4- 4- 4- Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 196.,1 495 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 well know some other better way in which I could use it) and even though as a consequence I do not know whether my will is materially conformed to His, yet if a~ a matter of fact I do give the gift out of love for God I am sure that my will is formally harmonized with His. And this is all that I am commanded to do in the situa-tion. I am bound to have the right motive for whatever good act I perform. When all this, then, is applied to religious obedience, it means that a superior usually does not know the con-tent of the divine will and consequently may or may not be commanding-, in material accord with it. From the point of view of the subject obeying, this does not matter. God does will that he carry out the precept as long as there is no evil in it. (We must notice that in this prac-tical execution of the command material conformity is always possible and commendable, that is, conformity to that content of the divine will which has revealed that it wants men to obey their superiors.) Furthermore, the subject should possess the formal element, the proper motive for obeying, which proximately is the authority of the superior and ultimately the ordering of his obedi-ence to the divine goodness by charity: Suggested Solutions We are now prepared for the first of our problems. Why should a religious try to make his judgment regard-ing some precept conform to his superior's judgment when he is not even sure that the latter's represents the content of the divine will? How can the constitutions of some religious congregations admonish members that they should make their superior's judgements their own, that they should "obey" even the superior's thought inso-far as such is possible? In answering these questions several principles must be borne in mind. First of all, any man is bound by mere natural honesty to conform his mind to the truth insofar as he is able. No one has a right to entertain error. He may have a right to immunity from attack because he is in error, but this is not to say that he has a right to cling to the error. There can be no right to what is unreal. Secondly, in a'genuine difference of opinion between two persons in which difference the truth is not definitely established with 'an objective certitude, honesty demands that any man make a sincere effort to see the reasons for the other's view. Any man is bound to weigh the other man's reasons as well as his own. Any other procedure is mere prejudice. Hence, the demand of intellectual obedi-ence that a subject try to see that his superior's directive is wise is no intrusion on his human dignity or intel-lectual integrity. On the contrary, this perfection of obedience is protective both of intellectual humility and of integrity since it aids a man in divorcing himself from his often inordinate attachment to his own opinion. It opens his mind to other views and other opinions. Hence, this fundamental honesty by which we give a sympathetic consideration to the intellectual position of another is common both to the subject-superior relationship and to the ordinary man-to-man relationship. Yet there is a difference. There must be a difference. Otherwise, we could hardly speak of the attempt a re-ligious makes to conform his judgment to that of his superior as a distinct degree of obedience. But what is the difference? What is the difference between Brother X and Sister Y trying to look sympathetically upon their superiors' decisions and these same two persons attempt-ing to discuss a question of politics or philosophy in an unprejudiced manner? In both situations there is a pursuance of truth, an effort to maintain intellectual in-tegrity. The solution to this problem is difficult, admittedly difficult. And we frankly confess that we are not at all sure that our solution is adequate. We think that it is correct as far as it goes, but we are not sure that it says all that needs to be said. We believe that there are two reasons why a religious' attempt to see his superior's decision as feasible and cor-rect is something over and above this same religious' ef-fort to see a differing view in an ordinary discussion. The first "something over and above" is the supernatural posi-tion of the superior. While he remains a weak, imperfect, and entirely fallible human being, an ecclesiastical su-perior does occupy in the supernatural society which is the Church a position which is ultimately derived from God Himself. As Pope Pius XII rightly observed, the authority by which religious superiors rule is a participa-tion in the divinely received authority possessed by the Roman Pontiff. Therefore, while the religious superior does remain fallible, and sometimes sadly fallible, yet his dispositions and directions enjoy an ontological rank that other dispositions and directions do not enjoy. This basis and rank are the foundation for a new reason over and above intellectual humility and integrity why a sub-ject should seek to view his superior's disposition sym-pathetically and seek, if possible, to conform his judg-ment to it. A second reason is based on the relationship between the first and second degrees of obedience with the third, that is, the relationship between execution of the com-mand (first degree) and conformity of will (second de-gree) with the submission of intellect (third degree). A mere reflection on the psychology of obedience indicates ÷ + Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 498 that the perfection with which a man executes a directive and with which he conforms his intention to that of his superior will ordinarily be dependent on his intellecttial agreement or disagreement with the judgment implied in the directive. Our point is not that the typical religious will not execute a command unless he sees its wisdom but that he often will not execute it as per[ectly when he believes it to be unwise or foolish. Our point is also that he will find conformity of the will, that is, really wanting to carry out this command, much more difficult when the precept appears to him unfeasible. A religious priest whose superior directs him to teach a course which he judges to be of flimsy value hardly throws himself ir, to the task of doing an excellent job with it. He teaches the course, yes. But unless he is a man of rare virtue, he cuts at least some minor corners with it. A sister who is asked to organize a testing program that seems to her ineffectual is an unusual person if she does not experi-ence difficulty in wanting to organize it. Because there is a lack of intellectual harmony between these religious and their superiors, harm is done to the first and second degrees of their obedience. This fact affords us another reason over and above mere open-mindedness why a subject should seek to see the wisdom of his superior's decisions and to conform his judgment to them. If our analysis is correct, it seems to follow that intel-lectual obedience is rooted in the will. The conformity on this third level is, of course, found in the intellect; but the force moving the intellect toward it is the will. This observation is not surprising when we consider that the "moving-moved" relationship is the case even with the execution of a command. The actual operation of teach-ing or sweeping is executed by the other faculties, while the moving role is that of the will. We may speak, there-fore, of obedience of the intellect because it is the in-tellect in the third degree of obedience that is harmo-nized with the intellect of the superior, even though it is the will that moves it to the harmony. There remains another facet to this problem, or, if one prefers, another problem. Granted that we have in-dicated two reasons over and above mere intellectual honesty why a subject should attempt to see his superior's view, we must yet discover what guarantee of truth can be offered that will justify the subject's conformity. After all, is not evidence the fundamental criterion of truth; and if we are going to ask a religious to hold a precept as prudent or feasible, do we not have to assure him of its validity on the basis of objective evidence? And if a religious superior has no divine guarantee that his di-rections conform to the objective truth of things, how can one rightly ask another to harmonize his intellect with them? This is no easy problem. In answer to it ~ve must first, remark that no one is asking a subject to extend the value of his intellectual assent beyond available evidence. We do not suggest that a religious ought to make a certain judgment that his superior is correct ~vhen there simply is no irrefragable evidence that he is correct, nor do we feel that the sub-ject should entertain a judgment of higher value than his superior entertains. If the superior only thinks that this course of action is feasible, surely the subject is not re-quired by intellectual obedience to be sure that it is such. As a matter of fact, the latter would be a difformity, not a conformity. We may observe, likewise, that in many of the disposi-tions made in a religious community neither the superior nor the subject can be prudently sure that a particular course of action is the most feasible. An autocratic su-perior may act as though he is certain that his decisions are the only reasonable ones; but this does not, of course, mean that they are. How often can one know with complete certitude that a given sister should teach the third grade rather than the fifth or that a brother should specialize in history rather than in political sci-ence or that a priest should serve on the mission band rather than on a parish staff? Many of us may entertain strong opinions in such matters, but few could offer in most cases objective evidence that one decision alone is reasonable or even the best possible. It would seem, then, that intellectual obedience frequently does not require a certain assent. But we think that it often requires an opinionative assent, that is, an assent that holds a proposition to be probably true because based on one or more solid mo-tives. Two reasons suggest this statement. First, when an intelligent man or woman (we refer to the superior) decides on a course of action, one may usually presume that there is at least one solid motive behind it that would found at least an opinionative judg-ment that the decision is a prudent one. Secondly, the superior himself usually judges his directive as at least probably correct; and so il~ he can find some good reason for it, the subject of good will should frequently be able to find it also. The first reason bears on extrinsic evidence (authority), the second on intrinsic. Is a guarantee required for the objective truth or wis-dom of the command? Must the superior in looking for intellectnal obedience in his subjects offer them some guarantee that he is at least probably if not certainly right in his dispositions? Although the two questions ÷ ÷ ÷ Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 499 4. 4. + Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 500 may look equivalent, we would answer yes to the first and no to the second. No man can rightly give an intellectual assent to a proposition unless he has some motive pro-portioned to the quality of his assent. I do not proceed in an orderly fashion when I judge to be certain an as-sertion for which I have only probable evidence or when I hold an opinion with not even probable evidence. Hence, a religious need not judge his superior to be surely correct when he can see only probable reasons in favor of the command. When the subject can see no intrinsic reason in favor of the precept's feasibility (and such is rare, indeed), he should either refrain from judg-ing it altogether or base his opinionative judgment that it is feasible on the mere fact that his superior thinks, it so. In this second case he rests on extrinsic authority or evidence. His intellectual honesty is preserved in that he has not made a certain assent, and his obedience is per-fect in that he has made every reasonable effort to bring his judgment into accord with that of his superior. A superior is not ordinarily bound to offer the guar-antee for the assent his subject is to give to his disposi-tions. It would be unreasonable to expect one in author-ity to explain his reasons every time he decides upon some course of action. And it happens occasionally that natural secrecy prevents him from disclosing why he acts as he does. Yet at the same time we feel that often, if not usually, a superior should spontaneously offer reasons for his directives when they are out of the ordinary or when they are especially susceptible to misunderstanding. would even say that unless secrecy forbids it, a superior ordinarily does well to let the reasons for his commands be known whenever an intelligent subject could not l easily conclude to them and when the matter is impor-tant enough to go into them at all. Otherwise, it is dif-ficult to see how the subject could give an intelligentl assent or bring his judgment into line with that of hisJ superior except perhaps by a sheer act of will. As we have just hinted in the preceding paragraph,, all of our above attempts to give a reasonable account the roots of intellectual obedience as it bears on the ob-jective order of things are directed toward cases in whichl an agreement with the superior's mind is called for. There are many cases in the ordinary living of the re ligious life in which the directions given are not impor tant enough even to concern oneself about a conformity~ of judgment. In these it is rather blind obediertce thai is indicated: the willed execution without any thoughi as to why the command is given. We hardly think tha, a sister who has been asked by her superior to serve a.~ companion for another on a trip to town should bothei about trying to discover the rightness of the request o~ why it was made. Such scrutiny too easily lends itself to pettiness. Our above discussion rather envisions more important matters in which a religious should know his superior's mind that he may all the better carry it out. How, then, may we answer the questions with which we began? Does our inability to know the content of the divine will render meaningless the whole concept of in-tellectual obedience? It the superior is perhaps not ex-pressing the divine mind when he commands, is there any point in the subject trying to conform his judgment to that of his superior? Man's inability to know the divine mind in many of the practical details of human lille does not render mean-ingless the widely received principles of intellectual obe-dience. The religious is not assenting to his superior's direction as though it were an infallible oracle, nor is he judging that it is the only possibly reasonable disposition of the matter. Precisely because we reject the notion that a superior is revealing the content of the divine mind do we dissolve at the same stroke that other mistaken notion that in intellectual obedience the subject is assenting to a certain proposition known as such by God. Rather is the subject merely trying to put his whole being, intellect as well as will and body, into a harmony with his su-perior, a man who takes the place of God for him. And this attempt at harmonization implies no violence to in-tellectual integrity for the simple reason that it rests on evidence, either intrinsic or extrinsic. We may conclude, then, that the religious who prac-tices perfectly all three degrees of obedience integrates rather than disintegrates his personality. He executes di-rectives promptly and wholly, and thus establishes a new contact with God who has parceled out some of His supreme authority to men. He wants to carry out the precept because he sees the divine authority in a human instrument, and thus he places himself in the genuine stream of what is. He attempts to set his intellect in ac-cord with his superior's, and thus he simultaneously maintains intellectual integrity and submits his supreme faculty to the divine order. And all this is done through supernatural charity. This is sanctity because it is reality. ÷ ÷ ÷ In~ellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 501 PAUL HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P., is the chaplain at Rosaryville; Pon-chatoula, Louisiana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~02 We are all very conscious that charity inspires us .to give help to others, but have we ever realized that char-ity also inspires us to ask for help? St. Thomas Aquinas was well aware of this. He writes, for example, to a prince: "Your charity has asked me to reply in writing to your question. It is not proper that the requests which charity faithfully offers be refused by a friend.'u Thomas realized so well that charity seeks help as well as gives it, because he knew from experience what unity in lively charity can be. Living in the golden age of the Order of Preachers, when community life was fully synonymous with life in charity, when mutual charity penetrated everything, Thomas daily experienced char- ~ty at its best. Charity was a mutual give and take in per-fect spontaneity. Those early friars knew well the spirit behind St. Augustine's command in their rule: "Call nothing your own, but let all things be held in common among you." In the thinking of Augustine, this statement applied not only to material goods but to whatever the Christian has, whether material or spiritual, whether gifts of grace or talents of nature. Augustine was remarkably conscious of the unity of all Christians in Christ, of how all live one same life together in Him. For example, constrasting his own intensely active life as a bishop with the leisurely contemplation of a monk to whom he is wri(ing, Augustine says: "We are one body under one head, so that you are busy in me, and I am at leisure in you" (PL 33:187). Because I am one with Christ, what Christ is doing in you He is doing for me. And because you are one with Christ, what Christ is do-ing in me He is doing for you. We are one body with many functions of one life. We are one mystical person in Christ. Elsewhere Augustine writes: "Whatever my brother has, is mine, if I do not envy and if I love. I do not have it in myself, but I have it in him. It would not be mine, if we were not in one body under one Head." x Martin Orabmann, The Interior Lile o] St. Thomas Aquinas (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951), p. 9. In this unity of life in Christ, this one life in love, the mutual sharing of spiritual and material goods is love in action. Love receives as well as gives, love asks as well as grants. If the bond of love makes us consider that our brother's needs are our own and inspires us to supply him with what he needs, that same bond of love does not hesitate in appealing to our brother's love for help. Our appeal is based upon our love for him and his love for us. It is only right that what we expect him to grant in char-itY should be requested in that same charity so that both the asking and the giving are an exercise and a strength-ening of the bond of love. Our blessed Savior sets a beautiful example of these things in dealing with the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well. In His love for the woman, He desires to do her a service; but good psychologist that He is, He knows that her pride will resent His offer of help. And not merely because in her particular case pride will resent the un-veiling of her sin but because human beings in general like to be independent and do not care to admit that they need others. Their pride instinctively resents anyone who tries to help them. We have all experienced at one time or another the pain of having our charity rebuffed. And therefore when Jesus wishes to do this woman a service, instead of immediately offering help to her, He begins by requesting help from her. He knows how valu-able a request for help can be in establishing good rela-tions among people. Rather than give her pride an op-portunity to resent His help, He appeals to what is best in her human nature. Human nature was made for love. But love's proper act is to give. To win the woman's good will and love, Jesus gives her the opportunity to give to Him. He asks her to do Him a service: "Give me to drink" (Jn 4:10). His humble request and His need immediately wins her sympathy and benevolence. Upon the initial good will which she thus manifests, Jesus proceeds to build an eternal friendship. By humbly accepting the service of her love, He leads her humbly to accept His love in re-turn, His love with its gift of "living water" springing up into a divine love, binding her to Him in an everlast-ing friendship. This is the apostolic technique which Jesus teaches to His apostles. Christian charity has to be mutual, love has to be a response to love. From the prospective convert the apostle must draw forth some sort of love, even if it is only an act of natural benevolence towards him. Grace, seizing upon this, can transform it into some-thing divine. Since man was made for love and love's proper act is to give, if we would set up a bond of love between our-÷ ÷ Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 selves and our fellow we must give him the opportunity to give to us. We must win his benevolence and sym-pathy by humbling ourselves before him in need. Love knows how to receive as well as give. Is not the recogn:i-tion of another's need a natural incentive to sympathy and love? Is not then the humble recognition of our mu-tual need of one another the best soil for mutual low:? For charity is mutual giving. Almighty God has deliber-ately created us mutually dependent upon one another that we may have an opportunity to love by giving ar, d to love by receiving, that thus the bond of love may 'be perfect. Therefore our blessed Lord instructed His apostles to receive even while they gave: they were to accept the hospitality of those to whom they wished to preach, they were to eat what was placed before them, they were to sleep on what was prepared for them (Lk 10:7-9). They were to be humbly dependent for material things upon the people upon whom they wished to shower super-natural gifts. Thus there would be established a balance and the mutual interchange which is charity in action. St. Paul's words describe the situation well: "There is a just bal-ancing- your abundance at the present time supplying their need, that their abundance may in turn supply your need, thus making for an equality" (2 Cor 8:14). Christ used this same technique with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Though it was getting towards evening and the day was far spent, He acted as though He were going on, giving them the opportunity to urge their hospitality upon Him, so that by their love in giv-ing to Him their hearts would be prepared to receive His greater gifts (Lk 24:28 f.). Christ our Lord sent forth His disciples two by two so that they could mutually give and receive as they trav-elled to their missions, upholding one another in love. For in Christianity there is no room for the proud inde-pendent spirit which rejects others as though he does not need them, spurning their help as though he can get along without them, refusing to accept from others lest a debt of gratitude make him dependent upon them, carefully hoarding his own resources in fear that giving to others will impoverish him and make him dependent. How tremendously more fruitful all of our labors would be if all of us would work together in this humble charity which recognizes our need of one another! True charity is ever humbly aware of our mutual dependence upon one another in Christ and of our solidarity in Him; and therefore it is willing not only to give help but humbly to accept it and to give again in grateful return. For Christians must never give to others with an air of condescending superiority but must always humble them-selves to the level of the needy, in genuine compassion. "Be minded as was Christ Jesus," says st. Paul. "Though he was divine by nature, he did not consider his being on an equality with God a thing to be grasped, bi~t on the contrary he emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave, and was made like to men" (Phil 2:5-6). For the gifts of God, whether spiritual or material, are never given to us in order to exalt us above our fellowmen but rather to give us the means of serving Him in humble love. "Freely ~have you received, freely give" (Mr 10:8). If St. Thomas Aquinas always looked upon requests for his help as proceeding from humble charity, in humility he considered himself the servant of all in that same charity. For example, a young Dominican lecturer of Venice once wrote to him a list of thirty-six questions and asked for the answers within four days! Though this may seem to be an inconsiderate abuse of the generosity of an extremely busy man like Thomas, especially since the questions were vaguely phrased, nevertheless in sending back all the answers Thomas gently replied: "Although I h~ave been very busy, I have put aside for a time the things that I should do, and have decided to answer in-dividually the qusetions which you proposed, so as not to be lacking to the request of your charity." We must beware, then, of setting self-sufficient bound-aries about ourselves, saying, as it were, "This is my sphere of influence in the community, this is the work I will do. I can do this and no more, and I will accept no help in doing it, for I am self-sufficient within these lim-its. I want no help, because I wish to be independent of the need of helping another in return. So let us all de-marcate our spheres of influence, let us carefully portion out the common resources of our community life. This portion shall be mine, that portion shall be yours, and let us not trespass upon one anotherl You may not borrow my help or my equipment or my resources even in time of need, for at all costs we must avoid trespassing the 'rights' of one another. In short, let us kill all the spon-taneity of community life in charity." Religious who by vow have renounced everything, even their own wilI, are the last people in the world who should be insisting upon their rights. Is not charity a higher law than rights, does not charity break down the wails of proprietorship? Does not charity concede to others that to which they have no strict right? For whenever we have something and our neighbor is in true need of it, then it is no longer our own but his. It is not his in justice, but in charity. He cannot demand it of us--unless he is in dire necessity--but he can humbly ask it in love, and we grant it in love. We owe it to him + + + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22, 1963 505 Paul Hinn~bu~ch, O.P. REVIEW FOR REL|G~OU$ in the charity which makes all of us one body under one Head. And yet, there is order in charity. For though what I~ have is given me by God not just for myself but for the service of others in Christ, yet I must use and distribute what I have in an orderly way, using it for the appointed purposes in community life. If I am called upon to de-vote some of my time or my resources in giving emer-geny help to another so that my appointed tasks may seem thereby to suffer, rather than stifle charity's eager-hess to help I entrust my own affairs to divine providence while I attend to the immediate needs of my neighbor. On the other hand, the common ownership of all things in community life, in this one body under one Head in charity, does not justify any one member or group of members o[ the religious community in appro-priating an unjust share of the common resources, taking more than should be alloted when distribution is made to each according to his need. If resources are unjustly appropriated in this way, even the charity of those who are unjustly deprived cannot approve of the injustice, though they may have to endure it in patience. Even charity cannot approve of the injustice, for charity is obliged to love the common good and cannot permit this harmful swelling of one member at the expense of an-other. We cannot appeal, then, to the fact that we are one body under one Head to justify any highhanded appro-priating of the common resources. What my neighbor has is mine, what the community has is mine, but only in the friendship of charity. I have only love's rights to these things. And therefore only in humble charity may !1. re-quest more than is already allotted to me. Only mutual charity makes what is his mine and what is mine his. Charity never demands, charity humbly asks. And when she has received, in due course she makes a grateful re-turn. Everyone who is generous in fulfilling the law of char-ity and is ever eager to be at the service of others sooner or later runs into those who abuse his generosity by mak-ing, in the name of charity, requests which charity has no right to make. There will be those who will use the main point of this article as an excuse for imposing upon others, saying, "I request this in charity, so in charity you may not refuse me." Are there situations when we may refuse requests for help without violating charity? At first sight it would seem not, for our Lord says, "Give to everyone who asks of you" (Lk 6:30). However, our Lord never asks the im-possible. There are times when one is so laden with other duties of justice and charity that he cannot possibly ful-fill a request for help. But in a case like this, charity must know how to say "No." "There is always a way of refus-ing so graciously," says the Little Flower, "that the re-fusal affords as much pleasure as the gift itself would have." Lest we abuse charity's rigl~t to ask help, we must al-ways be very considerate of those of whom we ask help. We should not ask a generous person for his help when we could do the things ourselves easily enough. For if the one we ask is really charitable and generous, then we can be sure he already has more than enough to do, for every-one is asking his help. We must take care never to ask un-necessarily or selfishly. If we really do not need help and the person we ask sees that this is so, then he is not uncharitable in refusing us. In this case a work of charity is not called for, since by definition a work of mercy is aid given to one who has true need. Furthermore, a busy religious has to be dis-criminating in the works of charity he undertakes. Since it is impossible for him to do everything, he does not violate charity if he makes a prudent choice about whom he is to help or about the type of aid he is to give; for as we have said, there is an order of charity. No one is obliged to sacrifice the greater works of charity and jus-tice to aid someone who would abuse his charity. Even in refusing a request which charity has no right to make, we must be charitable in our manner of refus-ing. One must patiently bear with the fault of the one who seeks to impose upon him. Likewise, we must be careful in judging whether or not a person really is abus-ing charity's rights to ask. Ordinarily we ought to pre-sume that the bond of charity lies at the basis of all re-quests for our help. If we may refuse help to those who are uncharitably inconsiderate in the requests they make of us, on the other hand we should anticipate the needs of those whose charity is so considerate of us that they hesitate to ask our help lest they unduly burden us. If, when necessary, charity knows how to refuse help in a gracious way, true charity is also always gracious in its manner of giving help. If our consent to help another is grudging and ungracious, we deal him an uncharitable blow even as we help him, for we humiliate him by our attitude. My son, to your charity add no reproach, nor spoil any gift by harsh words! Like clew that abates a burning so does a word improve a gift. ÷ ÷ + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22~ 1965 5O7 Sometimes the word means more than the gift; both are offered by a kindly man. Only a fool upbraids before giving: a grudging gift wears out the expectant eyes (Sir 18:14-17). "The word means more than the gift" because the gen-uine charity behind the asking and the giving, the giving and the receiving, is the one thing precious above all else. 4- 4- 4- Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANTONIO ROSMINI Three Q estions on the Spiritual Life [Antonio Rosmini, 1797-1855, was one of the great figures of the Church in the nineteenth century. Besides founding the Rosminian Fathers (the Institute of Charity), he also founded the Sisters of Providence (the Rosminian Sisters). As the founder of the sisters, he was naturally solicitous for their spiritual progress and advancement. The Review is happy to present here a translation of a letter :from Father Rosmini to the members of the Sisters of Providence in England on three important matters of the spiritual life. The translation has been made by the Reverend Denis Cleary, I.C.; Saint Mary's; Derrys Wood; Wonersh; Guildford, Surrey; England.] Stresa~ September 24, 1850 Dear Daughters in Christ, I would not wish you to judge my charity towards you by the number of letters which you receive from me. The Lord knows that I have you in my heart and that I offer you to Him every day on the altar. If I write infrequently, attribute this to my weakness and to the fact that I know you have a superior who is full of zeal for your growth in Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, now that this superior of yours, and my dear brother in Christ, is returning to you after his journey to Italy, I cannot but send with him a letter which will serve to thank you for the gifts which you have sent me in your charity as a sign of your devo-tion and in which I shall answer those three important questions which you sent to me. I answer these questions because, although I know that you could have the same answers from your immediate superior who is full of wisdom and the spirit of God, I think that hearing the same things from me, as you desire and ask, will give you consolation and strength in doing good because of that affection and obedience which you grant me in Christ Jesus. It is for this reason that I write, not necessarily for your greater instruction. The first question which you ask me is this: "How can one use a spirit of intelligence without falling away from simple and blind obedience?" ÷ Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 + 4. ÷ ¯ 4ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This question and the other two which follow show your spiritual discernment becau.se they manifest your de-sire for instruction in the most perfect things. Perfec-tion demands that we know how to join and harmonize in our daily actions those virtues which, at first sight., seem opposed and even, perhaps, to exclude one another reciprocally. In fact, although no virtue can ever truly be opposed to another, just as no truth can be opposed to another truth, there is an art in uniting harmoniously those virtues which belong to faculties and passions which have contrary tendencies. When possessed by a per-fect man these faculties and passions come together in an orderly way. Knowing how to bring them together, there-fore, belongs to the study of that perfection to which we are consecrated. The person who seeks for perfection is rather like a composer who knows how to blend the voices of contralto, baritone, and bass. Coming now to your que.,stion, I say that simple and blind obedience can be joined with a spirit of intelli-gence and that this can be done in various ways. The First Way. It must be realised that the higher and the more universal the reason which governs our actions, the greater the use we make of a spirit of intelligence. Acting with a spirit of intelligence only means acting ~c-cording to reason without allowing ourselves to be moved or disturbed by any passion whatsoever. Now the highest and most universal of all reasons for acting is that of doing in everything the will of God (I expect you have seen what I have written on this matter and have also read it). But he who obeys with simplicity and purity is certain of doing the will of God who has said concerning ecclesiastical superiors: "He who hears you hears me." This is a simple but efficacious and sublime reason for acting. It contains so much good in itself that, when it is present, it renders every other reason superfluous. So you see that although obedience is called blind this is not because it is without light but because it has so much light that it does not need to take it from elsewhere. It is as though a man is said to be without light because he does not light candles when the sun shines. The Second Way. Besides this, he who obeys blindly and simply can use his spirit of intelligence in the way in which he carries out what he has been commanded. Two persons carry out a command of their superior: one of them does it without reflection, without attention, without putting his heart into the work, without think-ing of what he has been told, without endeavoring to understand what has been commanded; the other does the same work trying to know, first of all, what his supe-riot's intention was, then endeavoring to carry out that intention in the best way possible as if it were his very own. The former, you see, acts without conviction and almost in spite of himself. The other performs his duty willingly; he desires to succeed; he finds his happiness in this work since he is certain of pleasing God. The latter obeys both with simplicity and with a spirit of intelli-gence, like a living and intelligent person, not like a machine. It is obviously impossible for the superior, when he commands, to mention in detail all those things which concern the way in which the order, is to be carried out. He gives the command and then leaves the subject to carry it out. The subject who has the greater spirit of intelligence can be known immediately through observa-tion of the manner in which he carries out his duty. The Third Way. It often happens that the command is more or less general and that many things are left to the common sense of the one who receives it. In this case, the subject must be careful to note the sphere of action de-termined for him by the command of his stiperior. Within that sphere he is obliged by obedience itself to work in a personal manner, not capriciously, 9[ course, but according to sound judgment, that is to say, with a spirit of intelligence. If you consider the different members of a religious congregation, you will see that they all act through obe-dience, even the general of the order because he is subject to the pope at least. Nevertheless, obedience leaves a more or less free field to the details of their obedience. .Superiors have greater scope in this respect than subjects. According to his position, each one can .and must make use of his spirit of intelligence. In your own house, you begin from the central superior and you go down through all the other offices, each of which is subordinate to the one above and so directed by obedience. Nevertheless, all the work has to be carried out with a spirit of intelli-gence. Everyone has to use this spirit in so far as obedi-ence leaves the matter to her discretion. Take another example, a teacher or a nurse, for in-stance. Obedience imposes this work, and so the merit of obedience is present. But what a great deal of intelligent application is needed to carry it out perfectlyl And if you consider even particular commands, you will find that the greater part of them leaves some liberty where one's own intelligence can be used. For instance, you have to write a letter and have even been told in general what to write. Is it not still necessary to think carefully about the way in which the matter is to be expressed? Obedience, therefore, never determines all the actions which a person does--that would be impossible. Many commands give scope, and great scope, to the exercise of personal initia-tive. + + + Three Questions VOLUME 22~ 196~ ~ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Fourth Way. This concerns the observations which we make respectfully to our superiors about the commands they give us. These observations are perfectly lawful, but in order to make them with a true spirit of intelligence three conditions are required: first, that these observations spring simply from zeal for good and t.he glory of God, not from any self-interest; second, that they are not made lightly--in a word, that we do not say the first thing that comes into our head without having re-flected upon the matter; third, that they are made in spirit of submission so that if the superior insists upon his command the subject does not sulk but does what he is told with alacrity and joy. If the matter has great importance for the glory of God and it seems that what is commanded by the superior is not the right course, one can have recourse to a higher superior. This is not contrary to the simplicity of obedi-ence provided that the three conditions mentioned are put Jr;to practice. Superiors like to hear the observations of their subjects provided that these are offered in a spirit of charity and humility. If after all this it happens that what has to be done and what is done for obedience leads to some harmful effect (provided, of course, one is not treating of sin), the one who obeys has lost nothing. On the contrary, he gains because his act of obedience con-tains a mortification which is most pleasing to God. The man who mortifies himself in order to obey has taken great step forward on the road to sanctity both because he has denied his own will and because he has sacrificed his selblove and submitted his reason to a greater reason, God's very own, from which the command comes. That is suflacient for the first question. The second question is this: "How can one unite prac-tically the spirit of contemplation to an active life en-gaged in works of charity?" Since the union of holy contemplation with the exer-cise of works of charity is the aim of our congregation, follows that we must not be satisfied until we have ob-tained from God the light to join these two things in our-selves. I say that we must obtain from God the power of uniting contemplation and action in our life because the' only master who can teach us such a sublime science is, Jesus Christ Himself who gave us a most perfect example' of it. You see, this science consists in nothing else but' union, and the closest possible union, with Jesus Christ. In His mercy He has already prepared in His Church the' means necessary for this union. Even before we were born or knew how to desire them, these means were made' ready for us. What are these means, then, which enablel us to obtain this intimate and continually actuated union~ with Jesus Christ, this union which does not distract us from works of external charity but, on the contrary, im-pels us towards them and helps us to implement them? The first among them is the pure and simple intention of seeking Jesus Christ alone in all our thoughts, works, and actions. This uprightness of intention is harmed to a greater or less degree by any other affection which influ-ences our actions. It follows that our intention of seeking in everything Jesus Christ alone is not perfect if we have not given up self-love and sensuality entirely. I said, how-ever, that that intention which seeks Jesus Christ alone in everything is hurt by every affection which influences our internal or external actions because an affection or sensation which has no influence on our voluntary thoughts or words or actions (in which case the affection or sensation is entirely opposed by our will) in no way diminishes the purity of our intention. On the contrary, it gives it scope and increases it according to those words of God to St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in tribula-tion." The second means, which serves to help the first, con-sists in carrying out all our exercises of piety, and espe-cially our reception of the sacraments and our assistance at Mass, with the greatest possible fervor, tenderness, gratitude, sincerity, and intelligence. It is especially in these two acts of devotion that there is loving union be-tween Jesus Christ and the devout soul. The third means is that of endeavoring continually to keep alive the love of Jesus Christ in our hearts by hold-ing Him present, painted, as it were, before the eyes of the soul. We have to hear His words as they are recorded in the Gospel; we have to consider the actions which He performed during His mortal life and at the moment of His precious death (all these actions should be familiar to a spiritual person); we must apply His words and His example to ourselves and to all that we have to do; we must ask how He would act in our case and how He wishes us to act; when we are in doubt we should take advice, desiring sincerely to know and to do what is most perfect and is most pleasing to Him; we must listen to His voice with reverence and love when He speaks within US. The fourth means is that of beholding Jesus Christ in our neighbor. Whenever we have contact with our neigh-bor, we must endeavor to be of use to him in Jesus Christ and receive from him edification for ourselves. If we have a great zeal for the salvation of souls, we shall do every-thing in our power to win them and to bringlthem close to Jesus Christ. At the same time, we will wage war on useless and idle words and upon superfluous conversa-tioHnso awnedv vear,i nin c uorridoesrit yto. direct our every wo|rd/and work + 4. 4. Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 Antonio Rosrnini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to the betterment of others and of ourselves, and so to bring forth fruits of eternal life, two things are necessary: primarily and principally, charity should always be ou.r guiding star; secondly, we must ask from Jesus Christ the light of His prudence which multiplies the fruits of charity. A soul that always proposes to itself the good of souls in everything that it says or does will always be recollected even in the midst of many external works be-cause its spirit is always intent on charity; and he who thinks always of the charity of Jesus Christ and has noth-ing else in his heart is always recollected in Jesus Christ and in God because the Scripture says: "God is charity." To acquire the habit which enables these four means to fructify in a constant recollection of spirit even in the midst of external occupations, it is necessary to make great efforts in the beginning and mortify oneself reso-lutely with regard to everything that distracts the mind and is opposed" to this state of recollection and of the presence of God. We must ask this grace of Jesus Christ with great constancy. Only by persevering in intense prayer can the soul be established in that permanent con-dition of quiet in God which is never lost through any' external action provided the will does not give itself to evil. Here you must realise that the power which communi-cates with God and is joined to God is different from those other powers with which we work externally. When, therefore, man has come to a certain state of con-templation and union, he works with those powers which regard external actions without placing any obstacle to that supreme power which gives him quiet and rest in God. So it is that we read of certain holy persons who, while they seemed completely taken up externally, were speaking internally with their God and Creator. And this conversation of theirs, instead of impeding them, helped them to do their external works better, just as outward actions did not turn them away from their interior~ union with God. Such a desirable state is usually obtained by those faithful and constant souls who, at the beginning, suffer much and mortify themselves greatly and pray with in-tensity and wholeheartedness. This is the state which the Sisters of Providence must strive to obtain during the time of the novitiate when they have every opportunity, if only they will use it, of binding themselves indissolubly to God, the spouse of their souls. The union begt, n then must last for the whole of their life. Those sisters who have not obtained it completely during their novitiate must strive to gain it as soon as possible, But let us pass to the third question. The third question was, then: "How can one unite per- fect zeal and an ardent desire for the perfection of charity with perfect detachment from the esteem~ of others and a sincere desire for contempt and ill use." This question is no less difficult to dea,1 with than the preceding two--to answer in practice, ,I mean, not in words. But what is difficult to Jesus Christ and to those who hope in Him and pray to Him . ?~t In order to reply to this last question~of yours, I say that it is necessary to suppose in a person h foundation of solid humility. This consists in not attributing to oneself that which belongs to God alone or to other men. Humil-ity, in fact, is only justice. It is just that m~{n should think himself nothing (because he really is such) and that he should think God everything; it is just tl~at man should recognise that glory does not appertain to !nothing but to that which is everything. Therefore he should wish for no glory for himself but the greatest possible ~glory for God. When a man knows these things, it is just ~hat he should feel a certain uneasiness when he is praised by men be-cause he who is nothing cannot desire to b~ praised with-out usurping what is not proper to him. IOn the other hand, he should be joyful when he sees that men glorify God. Man however is not only nothing. He is something worse: he is a sinner (not only because of the sins which he has committed but also because of th~se which he could have committed and would commit con. tinually if God did not have compassion on him). It lis just there-fore that he should desire to be despised[and that he should rejoice when he is ill treated by mefl. Sentiments of this nature must be unshakeable and deeply implanted in the soul of a religious person. Nevertheless, this per-son must realise also that although man is a, lnothing and moreover subject to every sin, Jesus Christ lias redeemed him through His mercy freely given; He h~s saved him and clothed him with Himself in such a maqner that the Christian bears the adornments of Jesus Christ. These are more or less rich and precious according io the abun-dance of virtues, of merits, and of grace poss,essed by the Christian. A man who finds himself adorned in this man-ner is indeed mad if this causes pride in him. On the other hand, if he realises that all these treasures are given to him freely and through no merit of his own, he will humble himself and attribute to God alone dhe glory of them without usurping for himself even the sdaallest part of that glory. Yet, just as God has given to man theset'reasures of v~rtue and of grace through a wholly gratmtous love, so also He makes h~m a paruc~pator of H~s own glory. Once more, though, man must not consider this glo',ry which is g~ven to him as his own but as belonging to Jisus Christ 4, Three Questions VOLUMF 22~ 1963 4. 4. ÷ Antonio Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS who, through His mercy, has wished to pour it out upon those who believe in Him, and to allow them a share it. With all this well understood, we can formulate certain rules which enable us to unite a desire of perfecting onr works of charity with detachment from self-esteem and, moreover, with a sincere desire of contempt (a most pre-cious thing). The rules are the following. First Rule. Generally speaking we must not give any occasion for contempt, at least through our own fault. When, despite this, we are belittled~ we must receive our humiliation with joy as something precious; we must thank God for it without fearing that it will damage our works of charity because, even if some damage does re-sult from it, this is desired by the Lord for His own ends. We ought not to turn away from it but trust in Provi-dence which will know how to obtain greater good h'om the immediate evil. Second Rule. We must never do anything whatever to gain praise from men. To do so is a most despicable act. When praise doescome of its own accord, we must at-tribute it to Jesus Christ to whom alone it belongs; we must, for our part, fear it as a danger and take precau-tions against it by internal acts of humility and contempt of ourselves; we must protest that we do not want to re-ceive it as a part of our reward. After this, if we find that praise is useful towards the perfection of our works of charity, we can take pleasure in it provided that this pleasure concerns the perfection of charity. We must not refer it simply to ourselves and we must be careful that no feeling of vanity or pride arise from it. On the con-trary, after we have received praise we should prepare ourselves for greater humiliation, persuaded that praise has made us no better than we were before. Third Rule. When we realise that the praise has been exaggerated, we should be displeased because this is con-trary to truth and justice. We should attribute it to the large heart of the one who gives it. Fourth Rule. In order to know whether we are really detached ourselves, we must see if we are glad when others are praised. You especially must ask yourselves whether you rejoice when praise is given to your sisters. Even the very smallest dislike or jealousy on this account would be a very great defect. You must be generous with others but especially with your sisters; you must consider their virtues far more than their vices; and you must try to maintain, by just means always, the esteem which others give them. Everyone must be ready to turn praise away from herself and see that it goes instead to her sis-ters. Each one must wish to be first with the work in hand and the last to be praised. This is not a dit~icult thing when a person considers his own defects and the virtues of others; when he no longer judges or condemns the defects of others; when he leaves ~ll judgment to God to whom alone it belongs; when he puts into prac-tice the lesson which Jes.us Christ tau :ht with these words: "Do not judge and you will not be judged. In fact, exposing oneself to the danger of j, " " one's brethern is the same as doing tlztdging wrongly ¯Therefore, in order not to be in danger o~ em an injury. lnj"us ¯uce against them, one must abstain [croom mevitetrinyg d aen-finitive judgment which may harm them. tions as the answers occurred to me. I hope that, if you meditate and do all this, you ever more dear to God and assure for your mortal crown. Your most affectionate fat~ Filth Rule. We must never speak of th ings for which we can be praised-~even the world considers this wrong. Moreover, although we ought not to bl'ame ourselves without good motives, nevertheless we ought to strive to cover up our virtues as far as we can andI to speak con-temptuously of ourselves sometimes provided so with sincerity This i . ¯ ~ .we can do you are speaking with yo~u rp rsaislsteewrso orrm wy iethspl et~cmerlsloyn ws h"en wh.om you are friendly, provided, once mo~, that itwl~tahs a s~ncere foundation. My dear sisters in Christ, I have replied t.o your ques- ,n our Lord will become seives an lin-er in Christ, A.R. ÷ Three Questions VOLU~ ~:,, SISTER JEAN DE MILAN, S.G.C. Toward Greater Maturity ÷ ÷ Sister Jean de Mi-lan, S.G.C., teaches psychology at Rivier College; Nashua, New Hampshire. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 The compatibility of neurosis and religion has re-ceived considerable attention in the psychological litera-ture of the last. thirty years. It is argued that sanctity re-quires a certain integrity in the psychic order,1 that man's struggle for perfection is directly proportionate to his mental equilibrium.2 There is no doubt, then, as to the importance of mental health in religious life where men and women consecrate themselves to God by vows to practice the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Religious commit themselves to community living and they depend mostly on one another for the works of the community and for companionship. It takes only elemental charity to prompt one to look into the dynamics of a neurosis in search of the elements incom-patible with a religious life. It is now an accepted fact that without being diagnosed psychoneurotics everyone exhibits neurotic symptoms at irregular intervals. It will be the purpose of this paper to identify these neurotic traits and to suggest measures within the framework of a religious life which can help to attenuate if not to eradicate the troublesome symptoms. The paper will be developed along twelve characteris-tics listed by Schneiders as typical of neurotic person-alities: immaturity and sensitivity, self-centeredness, un-realistic ego ideal, rigidity and anxiety, isolation, ag-gression against self, mental conflict, lack of control, sug-gestibility, irresponsibility, lack of sense of humor, and emotional instability,s These traits can be found in many people including religious; it is only when they become x Jordan Aumann, "Can Neurotics Be Saints?" Cross and Crown, v. 5 (1953), pp. 458-59. s Robert Meskunas, "Sanity and Sanctity: An Inquiry into the Compatibility of Neurosis and Sanctity," Bulletin o] the Guild o] Catholic Psychiatrists, v. 7 (October, 1960), p. 248. s Alexander A. Schneiders, Personal Adjustment and Mental Health (New York: Rinehart, 1955), pp. 390-95. a consistent and persistent pattern that/one speaks of a neurotic personality. As a type of adjustment, it is in-adequate and it represents an meffioent and unwhole-some effort to meet the demands and rdsponsibilities of daily living. / 1. Immaturity,and Sensitivity The neurotics immaturity makes allI problems and frustrations loom large and menacing, IThis tendency, often paired with regression, connotes not only loss mature habits of behavior but a consequ~ent progressive inadequacy of response. The neurotic be.comes decreas-ingly able to meet the ordinary demands for social living and begins to withdraw from acuve part~opauon, m group acuwty. He does not master hfe ~ut expects life to look after him. He is unusually sensitive to comments concerning himself and cannot tolerate/any form criticism. His sensitivity makes the stresses~ and threats of reality almost unbearable¯ Religious life favors the cultivation of a/Christianper-sonality through the development of a perfect life---~ne exquisitely balanced, of noble service to ohe's neighbor, a life most happily modeled on Christ Hi~aself. In lead-ing to spiritual maturity, religious life de~aands of one constant and close personal contacts in theI common life which comprises factors capable of actualizing the po-tentialities of the individual. To be a constructive and mature power, the individual personality ]nust exercise itself through activity upon others. Religious who can be characterized by "immaturity and sensitivity" are likely to be living in a sElf-contained world. They have refused to walk through the doors swinging outward where the self can be ektended and actualized. 2. Self-Centeredness Neuroticism is characterized by a life which is, in some respects, self-centered. It is ~mmatunty s firs.t ally. The neurotic makes his ego the center of the universe; good is what is good for the ego, bad only what unpleasant to it. Menninger, a renowned psychiatrist, b~lieves that Christ Himself laid down one of the pnnople~s of mental health that is now recognized as of paramo,unt impor-tance. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all quoted Christ when they said: "For whosoever will save his life s~all lose it, but whosoever will lose his life for my sake will save it." What better can condense the attributes of a mature per-sonality? "Some men can love others enough~ to derive ¯ more satisfaction from that than from being lo~ved them-selves. It is still a magnificent precept. If you can follow VOLUME 22, 1963 ,519 it, you will never have to make a date with a psychia-trist." 4 Religious life, because of its theocentric plan, teaches a person to surmount his egocentricity. It also provides a basis for satisfactory interpersonal relations and cha:r-ity toward fellow men in the fatherhood of God instead of in changing human sentiments.5 The spirit of self-abnegation and self-denial is fundamental to the re-ligious life. Religious are called to share one mind, one heart, one life, one love in Christ. Their social service is motivated by the love of God in the neighbor. Self-love, then, tends to decrease as a function of one's love. for others. The paradox of a self-centered religious be-comes a serious indictment. + + + Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3. Unrealistic Ego Ideal The neurotic harbors an almost pathological ego ideal which prevents him from achieving a realistic attitude toward the issues and problems of daily life. His goal is a purely idealized and often artificial one. The ego ideal, the self one wants to become, may take the form of an ideal of personal conduct or it may be identified with certain desired accomplishments. The purpose of the ideal is to bring about identification with it in view of self-actualization. It emphasizes the forward movement or activity that is characteristic of living or-ganisms. The personal pattern of tendencies is projected into the future. This orientation toward future goals is commonly accepted by psychologists as a mark of matu-rity. Obviously, it reaches its highest perfection in re-ligion where man is oriented toward his ultimate goal.e Religion aims primarily at bringing persons closer to God, and by doing so it may secondarily promote their mental health. When a person believes that God assists him in a very personal way, life's perplexities and emo-tional crises become relatively unimportant. With such a clear-eyed notion of God, of His claims on the indi-vidual and His plans for him, the religious has a reliable and stable framework upon which to build a plan of life. Religion is the supreme moral virtue dominating his interior life and his relations to other human beings, and the religious view of life becomes the philosophy which dominates both thought and conduct.7 Such a man is strengthened by the sense of his own personal dignity. ' Schneiders, Personal Adjustment, p. 160. ~ James H. VanderVeldt and Robert P. Odenwald, Psychiatry and Catholicism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952), p. 185. e James E. Royce, Personality and Mental Health (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1955), p. 277. ~ Thomas Verner Moore, Personal Mental Hygiene (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1944), p. 236. A religious has only to gauge his serentty to evaluate himself on this trait. 4. Rigidity and Anxiety The neurotic's rigidity and anxiety d, not allow ~him to adapt to changing situations. Flexibility, suppleness, and malleability are the signs of life. I Rigidity, rigor mortis, is the sign of death. Such is the sta'te of the person who lacks malleability, whose personali~,y is excessively rigid'S Fear and anxiety, the very core of neurosis, are emo-tions which generally assume a rather egoistic character. It is well known and readily accepted thatldiffuasnexiety is reduced in the neurotic by the development of somatic symptomatology, exther phys~ogentc or psychogemc ~n nature. The physical symptoms then bdcome ways of structuring the anxiety¯ Anxiety may result from dejection flowing from one's inabilityto realize his ambitions; it maylbe due to in-jured vanity. There are surprisingly few neurotics' among people who are genuinely humble. Real Ihumil!ty is a prophylaxis against the anxieties one encounters ~n every day human interaction, for the truly huml~le person not only recognizes his own weaknesses and limperfections but he remains peaceful when his deficiencies are recog-nized by others also.9 One who has consecrated himself to God by religious vows is officially the spouse of Christ. Bu~ one can be officially the bride of Christ without having made in reality a complete sacrifice of himself in which his will is identified with and absorbed in the will of God, or without having attained to that psychologtcal state that St. John of the Cross designates as "spiritual ,matrimony." This state results in a cessation of all anxiety and a men-tal state of peace and delightA0 It is quitd remarkable how religious experiences tend to the moral perfectton of the one who has them. They give him a be~ter mode of adjustment in his relations to other humanl beings and a spiritualized conception of the nature of t~ials. 5. Isolation There is a certain amount of hostility in .he neurotic make-up coupled wtth tnabthty to get along w~th others. The psychoneurotm ts essenually a maladjusted personal- 8 Charles J. D. Corcoran, "Types Suited or Unsuited for Religious Vocation," Proceedings o] the Eighth Annual Convocation o[ the Vocation Institute (Notre Dame: Notre Dame Press, 1955), p. 33. 0 Raphael C. McCarthy, Sa]eguarding Mental Health! (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1937), p. 253. lOThomas Verner Moore, The Driving Forces o[ H~man Nature (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1948), pp. 421-22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 521 4. Sister lean de Milan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity and the victim of a bad system of mental habits. isolation results from a group of defense reactions, in-cluding primarily the fundamental biological reactions of defense and avoidance. The neurotic withdraws from his social group and becomes a nuisance even unto him-self. Man is a social being whose ultimate destiny is bound up with his observance of the great commandment dual charity. His perfection as a person is analogous to that of a seed which, to bear fruit, must grow outside of of itself. Religious growth in perfection can be measured in terms of one's serviceability to and influence on others. A life in the service of God and man, a wholehearted de-votion to the ideal of religious life, appears as the realiza-tion of our friendship with God. The profound feeling of loneliness and sense of isolation one experiences oc-casionally can be cured by a sincere trust in God, our friend. 6. Aggression Against Sell Neurotics are characterized by a great deal of petulance, annoyance with others, sensitivity to their at-titudes and behavior, readiness to quarrel and to find fault, and so on. Self-hatred as well as hatred of reality underlies both the spiritual and emotional disturbance. Aggression against self flows from conceited pride which has a twofold weakening effect: one of walling up its victim from reality and the other of making him super-sensitive to anything that might be construed to indicate a belittling attitude on the part of others,ix Running through all these neurotic ups and downs is a thread of chronic dissatisfaction and hopelessness which pre:;ents the eternal problem of "to be or not to be." The neurotic tries to evade the problem but no evasion is possible. He goes on unhappy and feeling offended and disregarded while it is within his power to modify, change, develop, and perfect his attitudes of mind, his emotional reac-tions, and the habits that fall under the competence of the will. It may call for the adoption of a new plan of life. Religious life, by having one strive towards the per-fection of a Christian personality, calls for a conscious development along the lines of private and social con-duct. Weekly confession is productive of a healthy ac-ceptance of one's shortcomings without introspective brooding. One is helped to come to a realistic acknowl-edgement of one's place, one's assets and liabilities, and one's dignity and dependence on God. Meditation is also a great promoter of insight. n James A. Magner, Personality and $uccessIul Living (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1945), p. 44. Mental Conflict Since it is the nature of conflict to pull the organism in different directions at the same time, deep-seated neurotic conflict is bound to disrupt the organization of personality. In the concept of. conflictI the conscience principle is of supreme importance; for it often happens that there is no real conflict between desire and its mere physical fulfillment, or between desire a~d one's sense of expediency, but that it is mainly and al~ove all between desire and the sense of duty. When impulse and fear are in conflict, the neurotic tries to resolve the conflict not by cont.trolling the im-pulse but instead by evasion and decep, uon. The fear results in behavior which seeks grauficauon while trying to keep punishment from occurring; thits strategy com-monly involves secrecy and falsehood. Th~ neurotic seeks to avoid social disapproval, but his conscle, nce hurts him. Attempts at repression may be unsuccessful and the in-dividual may resort to neurotic symptoms. Rehg~on, by reason of its experiences, behefs, and prac-uces, ~s eminently stated to the reducuon of damagxng conflict, feelings, and frustrations. It constantly reminds one of the intrinsic value and dignity of man, and of the fact that he is created to the image and likeness of God; there is no better way to offset the traumatic effects of in-feriority and the feeling of personal worthl~essness. There can be no more solid anchor than trust in! divine provi-dence and in the belief of His personal interest in each of His creatures. Conformity to the will of th~ all-wise God makes life's sorrows and fears bearable. Whlen a religious weakens under the burden of mental conflitcts, it will be wise for him to work out the debits and credits of his conduct in terms of self-will and will of G~d. 8. Lack of Control When the emotions are chronically ou~[ of control, some degree of neurosis exists. There is no neurosis with-out some evidence of failure in control an~t integrative functions. Integration presupposes wisdom ~in the intel-lect and character in the will--a scale of lvalues, self-knowledge, and habits of self-control. Most o,[ the neurot-ics are recruited among those whose will power is undeveloped. Stability amid the ups and downs of emotional moods is essential to both physical and mental heal~.h. Here the virtues of fortitude and temperance play their part. Re-ligion gives moral principles with a bac,king which makes them easier to hold onto when the going is hard. Meditation, a daily spiritual exercise for all religious, Moore, Mental Hygiene, p. 306. 4. Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ $i~tet lean d~ Milan, $.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 readjusts their thinking to a proper sense of values. Be-sides, one is not allowed to elude the dynamics of grace for any considerable time when one truly lives his re. ligious life. 9. Suggestibility Suggestibility is closely linked with emotional im-maturity and harmful dependency. The suggestible neu-rotic is controlled by an idea or by someone else rather than by himself. His want of self-confidence makes him dependent upon others so that he leans on their judg-ments and readily yields to suggestion. He is vacillating in his purposes, uncertain in his opinions, fearful of re-sponsibility, and reluctant to assume the initiative in any activity. Such feelings batter at a person's mental in-tegrity until it is weakened or destroyed.13 Suggestibility resembles "lack of control" inasmuch as it implies lack of integration. The greater one's erno-tional vulnerability, the greater will be the predisposition to neurotic reactions. No doubt the neurotic is happier with his neurosis than he would be without it in view of all the circumstances external and internal as he per-ceives them; however, he lacks the happiness of an inte-grated personality. What VanderVeldt said of religion can be said of re-ligious life: "The condition for the mental health value of religion is that people truly live their religion.TM Perhaps not all people who are supposed to be religious and become neurotic have made their religious convic-tions an integral part of their lives. 10. Irresponsibility Sense of responsibility is the realization that one has certain duties and obligations to fulfill and the deter-mination to fulfill them to the best of one's abilities. Sense of responsibility and the willingness to accept obli-gations are dependent to a great extent on maturity. The comparison is often made of a neurosis being a closed door that bars dyn~imic development for the neu-rotic. If the doors of the neurotic hell are locked from the inside, the psychotherapist can only help the patient find the key. This is not an easy task as the neurotic pa-tient clings to his symptoms even though he is disturbed by them and seeks psychiatric help. The neurosis is a way of life that is pleasant to the neurotic, especially when he is able to manipulate the environment to meet his selfish needs. The ability to assume responsibility is in large part a McCarthy, SaIeguarding Mental Health, p. 266. VanderVeldt and Odenwald. Psychiatry and Catholicism, p. 193. matter of moral courage¯ One who has honest religious convicuons feels obhged to do something worthwhile for God and for man. He turns aside from the unwholesome pursuit of selfish pleasures. Religious Iprinciples direct his mind to the purpose of life, and in/so doing they do not deprive him of pleasure but' give it i~ abundance and permanence as he attains the great purp, ose of life in the service of God and man. If he has adopted the religious ideal with enthusiasm, then it become~ a powerful in-hibitory force against the development of unwholesome mental conditions.15 11. Lack ol Sense of Humor A good sense of humor is one of the c iteria of mental health and adjustment. It is not found in the neurotic whose life is humorless, a drab affair d~ minated by ill-ness, conflict, frustration, dissatisfaction, ~and discourage-ment. Humor is based on the perception of incongruities; it is a feeling of surprise, the joyous shock Iof discovery in our appreciation of life's incongruities. To find these con-trasts we must be self-detached,.account ourselves of little ¯ importance, look outwards and not rewards, feel drawn to people and to th~ngs ~n thanksgxwng; for humor ~s the reward o1: a wxll-to-commumty. "Wlll-to-cornmumty ~s not to be understood as a fixed determ~nauon to hve with the community but rather the will td live in a com-munity as a grateful member of a crowd,°r group. Hu-mor should be the natural endowment oflall thowsheo seek to live in religion. The test of a true sense of humor is the capacity to laugh with others at one's self; but that i~ not all. One must discover the reason for such laughter. One must learn to discover in the laughter of others s~omething like a comphment. True humor ~s akin to brotlierly love and sympathy; ~t brads us closer together and relaxes all un- ! due tensions. There is nothing so effecuve in checking the ingrowing pains of pride as a sense of h~umor. People who take themselves too seriously need the ~antidote of a good laugh to reduce values to their true llevel and to declare a permanent moratorium on manyI of their pet grievances and frustrated ambitions.17 A sense of humor combats anxiety, which is a blight on the ~ehg~ous life, by exercising the mind in a way which develops a living, vibrant suppleness. Cheerfulness is the siga which ac-companies sacrifices made out of true love, the love of God. Gloom and sadness are the signs of s~lcrifice made ~ Moore, Mental Hygiene, pp. 244-45. xo Ferdinand Valentine, The Apostolate o[ Chastity (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 15. x7 Magner, Personality and Success]ul Living, p. 48. ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22~ 1963 out of self-love, out of vainglory. A" sense of humor enables one to behd without breaking under the weight: of the cross, to see the proportion between the suffering,; of this life and the glory of the next, and to see oneself in the humble relationship of creature to Creator. 12. Emotional Instability Emotional instability is a dominant feature of the neurotic personality and a primary determinant of the neurotic's difficulties. Along with his emotional change-ability and high general emotionality, he exhibits be-havior that is characteristic of a spoiled child. There is an intimate connection between mental and moral health. Wholesome effective living and mental stability require an adequate scale of values, or philos-ophy of life, and a set of worthwhile attitudes and habits. These qualities can be provided more efficaciously and more abundantly by religion than anything else in one's life. Only moral virtue can give a healthy, integrated personality. The virtues moderate one's emotions and temperament, bringing them into balance. A virtuous life will result in unity and integration of personality. Summary and Conclusion Religious are not immune to neurotic behavior; at one time or another, a religious is likely to exhibit neu-rotic traits. But by its very nature, the religious life can help one counteract the possible neurotic tendencies. A brief discussion of the positive contributions of religious life to mental health was introduced with the discussion of each neurotic trait. The religious man or woman of humble faith in God, of daily prayer and consultation with God, of devotion to his or her religious duties as God has given light to see them has the assurance of a full perspective on life, health of mind, peace of soul, and a view of time in the light of eternity,is ~s James A. Magner, Mental Health in a Mad World (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 298. 4. Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 526 ROBERT j. KRUSE, C.S.C. Au in Religio 'From a supernatural point of view, th, exercise of re-ligious authority and the practice of ehg~ous obedience are meaningful only when conceived as~ participations in the authority and in the obedience of Christ our Lord. eAd::a°~n:r~ ~Vreo~tern~p. t to understand authority and obedi- . ~ a ~nrist-centered way of ~ife, we become gud~ of gloss misunderstanding In such }a situ . - gardless ot the reasonableness "a n d t h et ingenudittlyO oIlf~ oreu-r solutions to the problems which religiouslauthority and religious obedience pose, such solutions remain void of genuine supernatural worth. In discussing authority and obedience, therefore, our first and constant care must be to associate them with our life in Christ. ~therwise our discussion will remain purely human and natural and a ~. consequence sterile Attempts ,~ ~-~ - ~-,. ¯ s. hfe~as ~,s Christian a"nd relig~io tu~s x lcifaett~ ~m Uu~lvt lbnee wanaal~zffd in divine terms. To confront supernatural reality with purely natural reflections betokens a wand of reverence ~r~he g~dly way of life with which we ~re ~a . ~st our Lord. ~ ceu ~n In this article we will speak of authority in the r - ligious life. In a subsequent article we will ~er some r~ flections on religious obedience. Of the t~o topics the latter is the more all,cult. Both are intimately connected. Afith~rity and obedience are relative terms so that what-ever ,s said o~ the one necessarily contains implications for the other. In our discussion of authority ~e ~ill group our considerations about three focal poiqts: first, re-ligious authority and the mystery o[ the ~ncarnation; second, religious authority and the imitation of Christ our Lord; and third, religious authority and] the mystery o~ the Redemption. Divine life flows to the souI through many channels. Ultimately, however, all of those channels drink at a sole spring and that spring is Christ. It is He who gives ÷ ÷ Robert J. Kruse, C.S.C;, is a faculty member ot? Holy Cross Fathers Semi-nary; North Easton, Massachusetts. VOLUME 22, 1965 Robert CK,~.Ce., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 528 to the soul living water, "a fountain of water, springing up unto life everlasting" (Jn 4:14). What is it that the Christian and that the religious seeks? He seeks a share in the life of God. For without a share in the life of the eternal God, man is deprived of all eternal significance. Unless a man looks outside of himself to a higher order, to the transcendent order, to God, in search of an ex-planation for his own existence, unless a man looks be-yond self to Another for the fulfillment of his own noblest hopes, he remains imprisoned without hope in the finite, in the created, in the temporal order--with no more persona/significance than that of any other transi-tory phenomenon. Ultimately, all religious questions re-duce themselves to this sole question: the nature of man's relationship to God, the possibility of man's sharing in the life of God. For apart from such a possibility man becomes merely a moment in time. And self is incapable, totally incompetent to satisfy its own profoundest aspira-tions. So that man seeks a way out of the maze of human, created, and limited reality, finite love, imperfect good-ness and truth, a way which will lead him to the enjoy-ment eternally of unlimited reality, infinite love, perfect truth. That way is Christ. Christ is the sole way. There is no other way. Among all communications of divine life, none re-motely approaches that enjoyed by the holy humanity of Christ our Lord. For in all truth the human intellect, the human will, and the human body of our Savior are the intellect, will, and body of a divine person. No created being save the holy humanity of Christ, that hu-manity f.ull of grace and of truth, enjoys this personal union with God. Truly in the womb of the Virgin Mary are celebrated the nuptials of God and of man. In the mystery of the Incarnation, we witness the wedding of the divine and the human in the person of the Word made flesh. And in virtue of His holy humanity, the Son may be said to render perfect obedience to His Father and our Father. "Therefore in coming into the world, he says., a body thou hast fitted to me .B.ehold, I come., to do thy will, O God" (Heb 10:5-7). It is indeed significant that because of His obedience our Savior is glorified and exalted. "Appearing in the form of man, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even to death on a cross. Therefore God also has exalted him" (Phil 2:7-9). It is equally significant that because of His obedience our Savior lays claim to His Mystical Body, the Church, and wins authority over that Body. "Christ is head of the Church, being himself savior of the body," so that, "the Church is subject to Christ" (Eph 5:23-24). God has made all things "subject under hwihsi cfhe eint,d eaendd i sh hiims b hodey ""a (vEepn hea a2so: 2 'o2-v--e2 r-~ ,a) . r/t t,h, e_ C h u r c h., indeed would onlyY g uruhdrigsitn. gOlyn athssee ontth teor lhthaen dw, imll aon y." sup.eriors. The obvious explanatiofi is a~t hand: ~h:uir. Perxor" ,s not Chtr. iIsn d e e d , t h e s u p e./rior ma n be conspicuously Christlike T~;o ~.2, .y ot. even. course, irrelevant. For the. s.u. p,~er-i~olras naauttlhoonr iat s", .ot authority of Christ even if tbo . ¯ ,~ - y as the --- ~uperaor § conauct is far t~oro gmr ~asnpr itshtlei kper.o Tfohuen rdo osti gonf itfhicea pnrcoeb olefm.~/tihiees I innc aa rfnaailtuioren. God has willed to use human channels fo~" the communi-cation of divine life. First and foremost, t~e holy human-ity of the Word Incarnate. That humani,ty is, of course, "tried as we are in all things except sin" ~Heb 4:15). But in His Mystical Body the Incarnation ~1of the eternal Word is extended through all the centuries of man's pilgrimage in exile. And to His Body C~rist has com-municated His authority. In the Church~.~which is the prolongation through history of the mystery of th c,.,arn.auo.n--davme life is communicated ;,,! ,.~" .~__ t, oa. lhe Church can do this only becaus~ Christ is her Head; and in Christ human nature has lald claim on the divine, on the life of God. So that in th~ Church, the Body of Christ, the perfection and humanity receives truly divine gifts, fduilflfneess of Chri.~t's There is, of course, this crucial our Savior's fence between is --' r-. ,., r~.er ~s holy, perfectly sinl,~ss; the latter str~lYesP:~t~ut~iYn "fer~n'wnghi21.y. In the lmeantime it ~vL~.rot~uide of the holiness of its Hena ~dt. sBeuetk ws rite.~h:daelm Cphtriiosnt oin r - h.as c,o,.mmumcate.d to His Mystical B.bdy a arti~i- ~m,~e, ~sni.n ~f.un ltnaless osw on[ a tuhttaato Mrit"ys, tai c~aa]r-t i_cri, ~.,.;.~ i ~soay cann~o, ~t msucbnv eevretn. t~r,~a, ~,~,,.e~ m_t_ynstee.rry l nofta t}hlie. bIlnec naronra itmm.np ercecmabalien si m~ plliivciirt~lyg aty today and everyday. Such religious are ~unwilling to admit that divine life can be communicated to them through human channels---channels ¯ frailties which the very term "humans"u ibmjepclite tso. Talhlu tsh ien our treatment of authority, perhaps our basic need is to emphasize more the "humanness" of it~that it is the ex- ÷ tension and continuation of the mystery of ~he Incarna-tion, the m)stery of God's making His own a human ÷ nature in order thereby to redeem human nature. y our Loro resid " ~mperfect and sinful human bein¢~. . I , ~ an --~, we mUSt also alIlrm ~ut~i~y VOLUME 22t 1963 5,?,9 4" 4" Robert Kru~e, C£.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 53O that it is a duty incumbent upon those in authority to become increasingly perfect and sinless. In this effort those in authority have a sure guide: our Lord's exercise of authority. We have here a question not of what author-ity might be but of what authority must be. That is to say, there is an obligation for those in authority to ad-minister their trust in a Christlike manner. It is not, therefore, a question of some vague, elusive ideal but rather a question of serious moral obligation. Of cour:;e, as in every creaturely .undertaking, perfection is never totally realized. That does not, however, render its quest any less imperative. What, in more concrete .terms, does the Christlike exercise of authority involve? Fundamental, it seems to us, is the sense of service. "But Jesus called them (the apostles) to him and said, 'You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. Not so is it .among you. On the contrary, whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you, shall be your slave; even as the Son of Man has not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many' " (Mt 20:25-28). In the last analysis it is the functidn of those in authority in the religious life to contribute by their direction to "building up the Body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the deep knowledge of the Son of God, to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12--13). Religious authority, then, stands in service of Christ's Mystical Body. The superior must never forget that his commands are addressed to a subject in whom the Spirit of Christ dwells. Let those commands never grieve that Spirit. Authority's commands must come from Christ: and be directed to Christ. That is, the superior must speak words which are sensitive to the Spirit of Christ within himself--words which the Spirit of Christ within the subject recognizes as springing from a kindred Spirit. It is the same Christ who both commands and obeys. Con-siderations of a purely human kind, attitudes which re-flect a purely natural assessment of the nature of author-ity-- these are entirely out of place and constitute a degradation of religious authority. Fundamentally, the superior's role is to act as an instrument for the more per-fect rule of the Spirit of Christ over the hearts and over the conduct of those vowed to religious obedience. In the fulfillment of this role, external trappings de-signed to enhance authority's position are of dubious value. One of the most gifted theoIogians in the Church today writes in connection with this point: In the life of the cloister there are still to be found age-old rituals governing the etiquette of superiors, involving demands of respect from subjects, secretiveness, ma ifestations of su-periority, appeals of superiors to a hi her wi ¯ 5°.? escens,o etc. All hould m' ,hs?lay . or w.Juter away. ~UDerlors s .,~a o ~ ~ permitted to me worm aroudd ,~.~ cast a long ~nd quiet lance at fluential, who re~e~'L~ff?c, . w~o ~re truly ]powerfu~ and in- ¯ ~ a ~reat ~ea/ ot unquestioning obedience pompous front. Superiors should oyu, inetflly i andsmeciut trhitayt ibne cheirntadi na Circumstances their subjecu know ~ore than ' matter at hand? ~ey do about displays of condescension "ro~w st o:- these ourel x , . y e 3ernal competence of the superi8or m proDort~on to ¯ . The truly l~r--- the ~n recognizes spontaneously the 7 ~ cat superior speaking, of all these trappings.i nInsi gthniisf ircea~nacred, ist pisir situuraelllyy salutary to read and meditate upon our Eord's r " . sh~p w~th H~s apostles. Nowhere in the ,ospelse~a~'°~e find our Lord making a fuss over SUch trivia, "You me Master and Lord, and you say well, fqr so call therefore, I the Lord and Master have wasOed yIo aumr f~e eIft,, you also ought to wash the feet of one a,nother. ~i~ ~u ]~ ~x~le, that as I hav~ done t~J ~ ~ ~noum oo (in 13:13-15). Regarding the matter of superiors' see~I i'ng coun~s e' l, some reflections are in order. Today, perha~ps more than at any time in the past, given 'the comolekit o tieth-cent . t Y f twen- . ury apostohc activity, it ~s'urgent ~hat superiors tsheeek i nadspviicrae.t iHonolsy o Mf oththee Hr tohle. ,C ch~ur:c_h:, .e v e ~ .s-e ~ns .i t~"ve to necessity in th~ ~-:-~'o- u s y r ~uVle-s- tw~,h picrohw sohees dd oto~tr tohvise ~ve ~rv 5nao-tt -t.hueg amd- vo¯rice es eorniol ubsu -ot uestions t-h.~ ~,k,u .~. .~ o tfLter n r~e" ulres y the consent of councId.ors asq well. Superiors should gladly reco~ize the Chu ~ch's w" -~d-~ta_g ~ersd taoi nojne gg aai~nde dw firlolimng sleye akvina~il ctohue-m~s :e1l~v,e_s7 o.~'-t~sff~ any reason w ,, the., .k_. ,. ,o . ,,o~,. l~or is there sistance and ehn~l i,g~hyt e~n-mouelnat ctoo nthnonsee t /o~eciria sl~l,a arpcpho fionrt eads-for this task. To put the matter very frankl ~: the Holy Spirit is perfectly capable of inspiring eact and every religious in a community with both a supern ttural view-point and useful practical suggestions re. arding the apostolic work entrusted to the communit, blu.n gtin the s " ' . , Far from + we!gh carefullyu tbhjee cstusp mernmaatut~ravl em, ethrieto s u- e~-'m--r sh,ou!d courage the religious to appropriate ~aoc otit oa n~ wtophoesnal ,p eon-s-sible, and in every case welcome the subject's interest and enthusiasm. It is false to suppose that ;vorthwhile l0 t0 K9~ar0l )R, aph,n 3e~r,4 S. .J . , " R e f l e c t i o n s o n O b c, dience," Crc Currents v. Authority VOLUM~ 22, 1963 Robert K~,r~u.~se,., REVIEW FOR REL)GIOUS ideas can emanate exclusively from those in authority. Such an attitude is an affront to the Holy Spirit. Related to the matter of seeking counsel is the matter of openness. Some superiors, regrettably, are excessively secretive even regarding insignificant daily directives. Many of their undertakings are shrouded with an aura.of mystery. The real mystery is what advantage they think derives from such a procedure. It is small wonder that subjects fail to display much enthusiasm for the su-perior's proposals when they are rarely invited to share in the superior's confidence. We would recommend to such superiors prayerful reflection on the words of our Lord spoken in the intimacy of the Last Supper. "No longer do I call you servants, because the servant does not know what his master does. But I have called you friends, because all things that I have heard from my Father I have made.known to you" On 15:15). What a contrast between the conduct of our Lord towards iHis apostles and the conduct of some superiors towards their religious. In this connection it is most helpful for supe-riors to cultivate within their communities a family spirit and that holy familiarity which the term "family" suggests. Nothing is to be gained by remaining aloof and distant. How can one who is aloof and distant touch and quicken the hearts of his subjects with the Spirit.of Christ? We might consider many other practical questions re-garding the Christlike exercise of authority. More im-portant, though, than coming to grips with parti(:ular problems is grasping the ideal which will serve as a guide for the resolution of every problem. That ideal is at once easy to understand and difficult to practice. What would our Lord do if He were in my place? How would He handle this problem? How would He win to Himself this person? To be a good superior demands intimate knowl-edge of our Lord and constant docility to the inspirations of His Spirit. Finally, some comments regarding authority and the mystery of the Redemption. The religious life, as all Christian life, is at the same time both incarnational and eschatological in character. It looks beyond the temporal order to the creation of new hea,~ens and a new earth. Indeed, the mystery of the Incarnation is itself the prin-ciple of this transformation. God makes Himself a sharer in our humanity only that we in turn might: share in His divinity. And ultimately our divinization will be accomplished solely by our personal sharing in the mys-tery of the Redemption. We must make our own the mys-tery of Christ's passover from death to life. With Christ, the great wayfarer, we journey each day through ter-restrial exile and affliction to our celestial dwelling and resurrection. "Wherefore we do not los! heart. On the contrary, even though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by d~y. For our pres-ent light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measure (2 Cor 4:16-17). Every Christian in the fulfillment of h, is vocation en-counters the cross of Christ. Justly does Saint Paul declare that we are ' always beanng about ~n our Ibody the dying of Jesus, so that the life also of Jesus maylbe made mani-fest in our bodily frame" (2 Cor 4:10). Certainly the re-hg~ ous superior ~s no exception to th~s rule. The exercise of authority is a cross. The superior shoul~l willingly em-brace that cross recognizing that only by Isharing in the mystery of the cross is self-love subject to passion and to death and the love of God to renewal and ~o resurrection. "This saying is true: If we have died withI him, we shall also live with him; if we endure, we shall rilso reign with him" (2 Tim 2:11-12). To exercise authority with anxious care is the supe-riot's cross. It requires no small self-sacnfic,e. On the con-trary, thanks to the constant demands of all kinds made ¯ upon his time, his energies, and his interest, the superior is truly "poured out in sacrifice" (2 Tim 4:8). A continu-ing death to self-love attends the wgflant superior s com-mitment to his holy trust. In this context welmust address ourselves to one problem in particular--a problem which occasions the deepest suffering for the conscientious su-perior. Stated in the broadest possible term~s, that prob-lem is one simply of remaining faithful t~o the super-natural order m the face of the pressures wli~ch a purely natural wewpo~nt bnngs to bear on rehgmus hfe and the apostolate. How many superiors are d~str, essed by the disintegration of spiritual values with which they are periodically confronted? How are they to res~pond to this challenge? Doubtless, the question is a vexifi~.g one. In such cases what is clear is that the super!or must re-main faithful to supernatural values. Spec~ous as the temptation to compromise may be, such compromise un-dermines. the very structure of religious life. S~metimes it may appear that only by making concessions to man's innate self-indulgence can harmony be maintained. Are not such concessions a mistake? Has not our ILord Him-self declared: "Do not think that I have come to send peace upon the earth; I have come to bring alsword, not peace., and a man's enemies will be those of his own household" (Mr 10:34-36). Obviously we are not sug-gesung that the superior pounce upon every trifling de-parture from regular &sc~phne. Shortcomings of this kind are usually nothing more than manifestations of our common frailty in persons of genuine goo~,d will. To ÷ ÷ ÷ Authority VOLUME 22, 1963 533 ÷ Robert Krt~e, .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 tax the subject's good will over every peccadillo is hardly a Christlike manner of exercising authority. The situ;t-tion we envisage is far different. We have in mind the case of the religious who deliberately and systematically by his actions and attitudes exhibits practical contempt for the religious life. Cost what it may the superior mtlst courageously resist such a betrayal of religious values. To permit flagrant disregard for the supernatural order to go unchecked is intolerable. It proves demoralizing for those religious honestly striving to fulfill their vows and scan-dalizing for the faithful who almost inevitably become acquainted with such a state of affairs. Certainly in all such cases those in authority must dis-play arl exquisite kindness and sympathy, tempering the rmness of their decisions with tangible benevolence, t,ut I firm tliey must be--for the sake of the religious life it-self. Let St. Paul's exercise of authority be their model: "For though we walk in the flesh, we do not make war according to the flesh; for the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but powerful before God to the demolishing of strongholds, the destroying of reasonings--yes, of every lofty thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every mind into captivity to the .obedience of Christ" (2 Cor 10:3-6). Surely no cross burdens the zeal-ous superior with more anguish than the recalcitrant subject. It taxes both his prudence and his courage to the utmost. Only let him recognize in tiffs cross an instrument for his personal sanctification. For the realization of God's will let him sacrifice his own popularity. To act with firmness and decision seems temperamentally almost impossible for many superiors. Nevertheless, their voca-tion demands just such firmness. In their weakness let them surrender to the Spirit of Christ their Lord, the Spirit of fortitude, who has been poured forth in their hearts. By so doing they will purify their own souls and will contribute significantly to the sanctification of their subjects. For their course of action is self-crucifying and so redeeming. Regarding positive steps to be taken in such situations, it is extremely difficult to generalize. Two suggestions come to mind which may prove of some utility. First, when dealing with such cases it would seem particularly desirable for the superior to work in close harmony with his councilors. Such collaboration contributes signifi-cantly to an objective evaluation of the problem at hand, minimizing the danger of the superior's being prompted by merely human considerations in his analysis of the situation. In addition, one or another councilor may be in a much more advantageous position to cope with the problem than the superior himself. Second, it would seem a duty incumbent upon the superior to neutralize and even to turn to the spiritual advantage of the corn .any d!sedification or scandal ar;~;n~ t_AJ_ ,mun"l.ty ject's behavior Cann~, -~-- .o,,:~ ~,ul~ an unruly sun- ,,L L.c superior exploit this oppor- ~t~rn2~aYn~n~?Cf~lrC~etaer:nnce~hn:ne~ elli:k,gelo,u as s~ ;wttiteuldle sa osf tuon- encourage prayer and sacrifice 'both for dheir delino confrere and for their own . : ¯ v,--o~vc,ance ~n noeiity. This ~uh~ULnb7 odn°noe;~of_ co,urse: ,m. a spirit of h~mility. Passinl~ tiit-~rS snoulo. I~e SCFU U ' " violatioofn - - . e rChh ri.s.t.h. kpe sIpoiruit swlhyi cahv ~ohoiduled dan aimsa ate ! the entire community. Rather, a sense of cornorate re-sponsibility and an awareness of man's Inborn weakness should be developed. In some such anner as this can the superior offset the harm done y th problem reli-b ! gtous in his community. In this article we have attempted to relate the exercise of religious authorit,, to the fun-'- our faith¯ the Incar~nation a--~ -u~a-m- e,~n t-a tt m. ysteries ot ¯ .tt ttte l~eclemDtlon A from such a vision of .~-^-: . t : 2 part dn~,.~.~u ,.~.,. ,~.~. . -,,~:,~,tLty mere e, XlStS tlae real ,at purely natural attitudes will invade our minds and shape our thinking along lihes devoid supernatural dimensio¯ns Such in~r,,o:~-- l_ . - of dured. That is why, practically "s -n~e,a~k,-isn c,~an .nt.o_t _o e, en- ,- ~,,I t,e sole tr .bmee Cashurrt.set s0 ,of wthne eCxherirsctiisaen oe¯xf eirtc ~ioo^,~-- u^-t', -a.".u.[ni o, r¯ltv can onu.e devoted some attention to ¯ xoi tHIS reason we also ¯ authori"ty and ~th e ~¯m~¯ tation of Christ. In closing, we would recommend to all who seek more knowled,,e on the su~-:- - -- ,~ d- ivine Lord¯ For l~ove of Him iosj cbcotr nm oatf t~,~kenyo wstuleadyg oeu orf Him,. and out of love shall grow likeness. And ultimate that ~s all Christian authority needs: to be ~hristlike. ly + + ÷ Authority VOLUME 22~ 196~ BROTHER PHILIP HARRIS, O.S.F. The Parent's Role in Guidance 4. Brother Philip Harris, O.S.F., is the vice president of development of St. Francis College; Brooklyn, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS One area of formal guidance1 in the schools today which has been most neglected but which holds the great-est promise for the future is parent guidance. Although extensive training is now provided for a profession or an occupation, little assistance is offered to the newly-mar-ried couple facing one of the most challenging human responsibilities--the rearing and education of children. The average parents want to do a good job of raising their offspring as useful citizens. But they need the~ as-sistance of educators who are willing to share the fruit of their own special knowledge and experience. Such a partnership with parents can be a.great aid to the over-burdened and under-staffed guidance department as it seeks to help a maximum number of youth in adjusting to a confusing and complex twentieth-century world. By right, and in fact, the parent is the child's principal counselor. Jusot as parents have the primary duty to edu-cate their children, so they have the basic obligation of providing sound guidance to them. Any guidance en-deavors of the school should be based on this premise, for educators only supplement the counsel given to students by their parents. The influence of parents on a child's life decisions is formidable. It is the task of the school also to aid the parent so that the young person makes the correct decisions and attains optimum personal development. It is understandable that in this age of rapid techno-logical changes, vocational opportunity, and personal challenge parents would look to the guidance specialist to help them discover, develop, and direct all of the God-given potentialities of the child. The theme of this con-ference is "The Adjustment of Young People to a World in Accelerated Technical and Economic Evolution." Par-ents possess the opportunity to assist today's youth to be- 1 This is the text of a paper delivered to the International Con-ference on School and Vocational Guidance, Paris, July 16-22, 1962. come tomorrow's successful adults. Ho!ever, the faculty in general and the guidance worker in[particular must help parents to understand the child of tl~ television and the space age, to project themselves into the future so as to determine educational and vocational possibilities for their children in the decades ahead, to appreciate the school and the guidance department's objectives and practices, to utilize good principles of met tal hygiene and right living in their families. Such a plan for cooperative and compiementary child formation by parents and educators must be~in with the pre-school youngster and continue throul~h ~aigher stud-ies. How to accomplish this will be the Isubject of this paper. Before examining the methods for peiping parents to fulfill their natural role as guides, it is ~seful to realize the advantages of such emphasis through t ae student per. sonnel services of the school. Values o[ Parent Guidance A parental guidance program strengthms a schooI's guidance efforts in the following ways: l) Teachers are limited in the amoun~ of time and energy they can devote to helping pupils so~ve their prob-lems and meet life's challenges. Trained counselors, even on the high school level, are few in nurhber and can guide only a fraction of the student bod~. Any sound guidance practices, therefore, that parents can utilize with their offspring will lessen the educator's load and permit school counselors to do more effectiv~ worL 2) Prevention of more serious problems ~hould be the aim of .any. paren.tal gu¯idance effort. If p~rents can be alerted to signs ot emotional disturbances, .to the effects of broken homes or rejection, to their children,s needs especially psychological), to the acceptance Iof their chil- ~tgi~srd.less ,of speci.a.1 talent or limitation~, then many 3) Througinh stchheoiro cl ownitlalc bt ew riethd upcaerden otsr ,a evdouicdaetdo.rs may gain insight into the family background ofttheir pupils and are better able to understand each child! 4) Parents gain a greater appreciation of]the school's program and the teacher's efforts. As a resuh, they may give increased support to school activities, fcr they truly appreciate every endeavor made for their chil ~l's improve-ment. Some of the means for translating these calues into realities through the school's guidance effor follow: Parent Clubs Teachers are familiar with various home-sc/~ ol groups, such as the Parent Teacher Association and Fathers' or Mothers' Guild approach. Such or~anization~. o ]. however, ÷ ÷ ~Pmarde Gntusidance VOLUME 22, 1963 4" 4" 4" Phili~ HaOr.Sr.iFs,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should have a two-way effect. The parents may raise funds for special school projects and assist in other ways; the school should provide, in turn, programs that help the members do a better job in their role as parents. Par-ents with exceptional training and skills may be willilxg to aid pupils and other parents with special knowledge and experience. For example, speakers for a career day can be recruited from a parents' guild; or parents who are doctors, nurses, or psychologists, can be called upon to address the parent group. Volunteer workers of all types from among the pupils' parents may offer free service to the school. A well-functioning parent club can be a deterrent to juvenile delinquency and offer good leisure time activ-ities for both parents and children. It not only will bring the school and home into closer cooperation but also may promote greater harmony and understanding between parent and child. Parent Forums Any aspect of child development or improvement serves as a good topic for a parent forum. It is best ithat parents be invited together who represent children of distinct grade or age levels, such as the upper, middle, or primary grades, or the pre-adolescent or adolescent pe-riod. Thus, there will be some common meeting ground for discussion. The student's intellectual, vocational, so-cial, or moral development can serve as the basis for a number of group conferences. This type of affair can be conducted in various ways. One is to have a guest or faculty speaker whose address is followed by questions from the floor. Another procedure brings in a specialist whose talk is discussed by a panel of parents with a faculty member as moderator. Parents of the graduating or senior class often profit from an educational forum to which representatives of high schools (or colleges) which the graduates will likely attend are invited for individual questioning or group discussion. These general meetings of parents are most effective when they do not take more than two hours for the total program. They may be preceded by some type of audio-visual aid while the assembly hall is slowly filling up. Sometimes films on adolescence or family mental hygiene may be projected and then followed by a discussion led by one of the faculty. Usually parent forums are held in the evening, but a week end or holiday afternoon may prove appropriate. Refreshments served after such events help teachers to meet the parents in a relaxed, social atmosphere. Parent Group Conferences These conferences are small group me~etings of parents and a teacher. If a guidance counselor or~ school l~sychol-ogist is available, these conferences may be arranged with him. These group interviews run'from ~fteen to twenty ~tin.utes and ,gi.ve the parents an. opport,~nity to present ae~r parental ~mpressions and experiences and to hear the educator's evaluation of their child. ~uch interviews have great potential for "preventive" ~ ¯ cational, vocational, or social areas. Tclo{uen tseechhn~n iinq ueed uis, most effecti.ve when these conferences a~e arranged parents a common problem, rot ex!mple, ents of students failing the sam~ two school subjects or the parents of pupils who are truant or.l.the parents of students who are withdrawn and antisocial or the parents of "exceptional" children--such natural groupings will permit the process of multiple counselin~ to take place. The teache~-counselor must prepare for ~he conferences by studying the family background anbdeI t¯horoughly fwahmosilei apra rwenitths mthaek ec uump tuhlea tgirvoeu pre. cords of the studbnts ,u. oSno motm tet~ i.sn p.terorecsetidnugr ree sbeya rPcrho hfaess sboeresn Sreapwo r~tnedd Mona ah vlearr iaa-t Chico State College in the United States. Their gr0ut~ counseling approach included botfi parents and student~. It centered a~0und underachieving pupils and involved a series of eight sessions where freedom of e~xpression was uppermost. First, students were asked to sit in a circle of six with a counselor, while the parents Isat off to the side as observers. Then, after personal introductions stu-dents were asked to express their feelings a~s to why ,they were ,u.nderach.ieving. The sessions were structured aproos.tut~.moan sK weye rteo ps,w cist cohre qdu, ewstiitohn tsh. eA pfaterre nthtsir itn3 ~th mei ncuirtcesle the and the youth as observers. Prior to such meetings~, it is helpful if both parents and students fill out an inventory of their attitudes toward each other and sc[ ool. Gradually, parent and offspring will gain insight into their own personal relationships and uriders~ anding as to why the child is not obtaining better grade.,. A plan for improvement can be developed, and a gap of time be-tween the fifth and the last two sessions will )ermit them to try out these ideas in practice. Then, th~ final guid-ance periods can be devoted to reports of success or fail-ure as well as a realistic review with implications for the future. The initial results of this technique i adicate that such family counseling can become a useful part of the school guidance program. Parents and Guidance + + ÷ Philip Harris, O .S.F. REVIEW FOR REL]G|OUS 540 Individual Parent Guidance Teachers and administrators have long met with par-ents on an individual basis to discuss their mutual con.- cern--the student. Frequently, such meetings were con-cerned with an analysis of the pupil's problems, abilitiet~, potential, and plans. However, this old technique can be made more effective by the use of some modern ap-proaches. For example, with the student's permission, his autobiography, anecdotal records, test results and ventories may be interpreted and discussed with parents. Another useful procedure is role-playing--the teacher switching to the role of the parent or the child and pos-sibly the parent switching to the role of the student. Or, the youth may be invited to attend the session to explain his feelings or position, or to "role-play" his parents. Parent Bulletins and Reports In addition to the written reports commonly given to parents by schools, bulletins which interpret standard-ized test results may be prepared to help parents gain greater insight into their child's abilities, aptitudes, and interests. A newsletter can be issued by the guidance de-partment, principal, or parent organization on: com-munity guidance and psychological resources; suggested means of helping a child with specific physical, psycho-logical, or social problems; a bibliography of free or in-expensive publications useful in the guidance of youth, of use to parents; scholarship or student aid opportuni-ties; entrance requirements of local institutions of higher education; projects for family group recreation; adoles-cent needs and conflicts; and principles of good human relations in the home. In working with modern parents, it is wise to consider the changes that have taken place in parental attitudes toward education and their goals as parents. The Chang-ing American Parent by Daniel R. Miller and Guy E. Swanson (New York: Wiley, 1959) is but one example of published reports that provide much light on the sub-ject. Many guidance books for teachers contain a chapter or two on working with parents. A recent volume, for example, Guidance in the Elementary Classroom by Gerald and Norma Kowitz (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959) devotes the last chapter to "Counseling with Par-ents." Another recommended work is Adlerian Family Counseling edited by Dreikurs-Corsini-Lowe-Sonstegard (University of Oregon Press). The school's attempt to aid the parents to fulfill their God-given responsibilities as guides to their own children will undoubtedly prove fruitful in the good accomplished attaining the objectives of the school guidance service, in saving on teacher time and energy, and in the, good public relations thus promoted. SISTER TERESA MARY, C.S.CI Religious 0 ce and Critical Thinking It is often said that we are living in a critical t.he people of the present tim . L . a.ge,. T, hat mose of the ,~, o,~L- _, ~- ,~-,: naor,e critical t~aa consc.musne~s s. .o.f. t~h,e,, ~co, mat pteIeaxstl tmy opfa rtth, efr uon~i tvheerisre g. eMateenr recognize that they must constantly adapt [their thinking to manifold new discoveries being made.~ While it is not necessary to doubt the existence of absolutes as some of I our contemporaries do, the need. to recq~ze relative aspects of man's being and knowledge o~ the world is much more apparent today than ever b~fore A new manifestation of the evolutionary ~rocess in th ha,s . ~coe ab?y~ largely because ot t~he ~e~t ro e world ~twy esncthioetlhar cs einnt uthreiesse Mpeoriroedosv eisr, bethe ~ i"nng o cw o¯~m ~em,~ u g -ne i c a a a.te c~ea~ath m content and method to large masses of or " ~eople. The spread of scientifi- -~ . ,-- , dreary the development of the crit~ic ~a-lu supginrti tn eacmespsnargil ym menea. nIss this critical spirit a good or an evil for them? than e a s g ~re Although the wordc .n.t~.osm,, often e a to break down some existing structurec ownintohtoeus ta desire apprec~atmn of facts~ ~t need not have th:~ 1 . ~rop~r meamng As a genuine intellectual effort, ~,t~s ure-sfuolrttsu nmaatye more often be presupposed as good and ~onstructive. Criticism is usually offered out o~ a sincere ~ntent'on to better the existing structure, not to destroy i~, and~is the m~ural product o~ a creative mind. Without seein~ the ~ ly as the values which he holds have been critically examined, Sister Teresa ra~"mnally acceet~d,.an~ then u~e Mary, 5 as general guides to behavior is in-ra~ her than as ng~d mvmlable principles can the perso~ be character- structor in theolo~ ~zed ~ liberally educated." Paul L. Dressel, "'The Role of Critical at St. Mary's Col-Thinking in Acquiring Enduring Attitudes and lege; Notre Dame, w~th Revolutionary Chan~es ~ . Know'ledge to Deal Indiana. National Con er~ . ~. ?~.u, a paper presente~ to a. 19 .~ f . u n~gner Education in Ch'cz£. ~ ~' v0~v~ ~, ÷ + ÷ Sister Teresa Mary, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS deficiencies in the current state of our existence, individ-ually and within a group, we cannot even maintain our present good, much less acquire all the good that is po:~- sible for us.2 The tendency of the modern age to be critical can, if rightly exercised, open up wider oppo:r-tunities for full human existence. Having recognized the value of the critical process in human activity, we come to the problem of this article, to consider the relationship of criticism to the virtue o[ obedience in the religious life. While attachment to per-sonal judgment has always been the crucial issue in the question of obedience, this matter takes on added dimen-sions in an age which emphasizes the value of a good, free, critical personal judgment. When a subject has been educated to think for himself, there is bound to be a se-vere adjustment for his personality if he is obliged to give this up in the interest of religious obedience. Part of our problem will be to determine whether the subject of obe-dience is obliged to give up personal judgment in any way and, if not, how he is to coordinate a conflicting judgment with the will of the superior. The following examples from current articles should suffice to show that there are a variety of answers to the problem of obedience. These answers have seldom been compared so that some sharp differences among them could be properly noted. It will be well to look at them first before trying to answer whether religious obedience and critical thinking are compatible. All authors, of course, agree on two points: the supe-rior's will is to be obeyed in all commands which are not sinful, and this obedience must be more than a mere external execution of the command; as a genuine human act it must flow from self-determination to the goodness of the act of obedience. The religious subject recognizes in the light of faith that the superior has been invested with authority in a congregation estab

(J^JLMJAU!**-- MARCH, J899 oeTtneoo Qettysbmr erciury .CONTENTS. The Old Campus 1 Extracts from "Honor in Stu-dent Life" 4 A Page from Prof. Brede's Diary 6 Henry Louis Baugher 7 A Compiled Thanatopsis 10 Thy Speech Bewrayeth Thee 13 The Favorite Sport of Rome IS The Cultivation of the Dramatic. 18 Concerning the Inhabitants of Porto Rico 20 The Reconciliation of Orlando and Oliver 24 Editor's Desk 26 Kee Mar Reception 29 Success in Art 31 The Trip to Chambersburg 33 Athletics 35 jBURGreOLCEGE^LIiRARY GETTYSBURG, PA, r\Hiimmmmitimmmmsmm. FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. J. R. STINEk-> •*nd SON, Gents' Furnisher, CHAHBERSBURO STREET. C. B. Kitzmiller, Dealer In Hats, Caps, Boots and . A.—Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. J. H. Myers, Fashionable Tailor, Clothier and Gents' Furnisher. The best place in town tohayeyourCloth-mg made to order. All workmanship and Trimmings guaranteed. No charge for re-pairs and pressing for one year. Dyeing and Repairing a specialty. Ready-made Clothing the largest stock in town. Up-to-date styles. Bicycle Suits and Breeches Headquarters. 11 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. S. B. ALCOTT, .Agent for. Browning, King 6c Co., Merchant Tailor, N. Y. Suits *12 up; Overcoats $12 up; Pants $4. r it and Workmanship Guaranteed. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott s Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. EPH. H. MINNIGH, Manufacturer, Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Confectionery and Ice Cream. Oysters in Season. News Depot and Subscription Agency. Sole manufacturer of Dr. Tyler's Cough Drops. flain St., Gettysburg:, Pa. EDGAR 5. MARTIN, .Fine CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. JOHN H. MINNIGH, Confectionery «*- lee Cream: Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. .COLLEGE OP. Physicians and Surgeons BALTIMORE, flD. TIT The College of Physicians and Surgeons of Baltimore, Maryland, is a well equipped school. Four sessions are required for graduation. For full information send for the annual catalogue, or write to THOMAS OPIE, M. D., Dean. Cor. Calvert & Saratoga Sts. .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. VIII. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1899. No. 1 Editor-in-Chief. J. FRANK HEILM AN, '00. Assistant Editors. LUTHER A. WEIGLE, '00. SAMUEL VAN ORMER, '01. Alumni Editor. REV. F. D. GARLAND. Business Manager. JOHN K. HAMACHER. Assistant Business Manager. CLARENCE MOOE. Advisory Board. PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD. D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price One Dollar a year in advance, single copies Ten Cents. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. THE OLD CAMPUS. HE was old. The snows of sixty winters had silvered the raven locks of sixty years ago. His figure tall and erect showed scarcely any signs of his four decades. Yet the expression of those sad brown eyes had hidden in them an experience rich and varied. The secrets, that those firm lips had guarded, surely were worthy of so kind and noble a character. But interest, sym-pathy, even love could not rob that soul of its hidden secret. The story of his life as known by his associates was without the touch of a romance. His parents having died when he was young, he was educated by his relatives. His course at College was very ordinary, with exception of a great interest in athletics. He was not exceptionally bright and did not graduate among the first ten of his class. There suddenly developed within him after his graduation a strong determination to make a name for himself in his profession. Then there was exhibited the strength of his will and ability. Gradually he rose until he stood at the head of GETTYSBURG COLLEGE LIBRARY GETTYSBURG, PA. |U,olM THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. his profession. Now, however, after having attained this much desired position there seemed to influence him, not that former spirit of determination but rather a mechanical direction of his powers to a certain end. He was never married and his life seemed to be very lonely. A peculiar fondness however for a small boy, whom he had employed about his office, grew up within him. The boy was sent to College and each year, as his strange benefactor came to visit him, a stronger bond united them. So then we can understand the feelings of these two men as they stood together upon the Old Campus on the eve of the young man's graduation day. It was early evening. A gentle breeze was playing among the the leaves of the trees. Sometimes they seemed to whisper of the days of happiness that were passed beneath their shade and then suddenly a low wail of sadness issued as a moan from their shadowy depths. To our two hearers the}' brought different feelings. Yet they had one desire in common and it was to unfold to each other the thoughts stirring for supremacy within them. The younger man was full of glad expectancy. All the world lay before him in which he might achieve great deeds. No longer would he be bound by the narrow circles of college walls and authority, but he would now be able to take his place among men. Everything would be sacrificed until he attained his high-est ambition. Life was long and sweet. He would make the most of it. The older man listened to his companion's enthusiastic re-marks with fast dimming eyes. After the youth had ceased speak-ing the older man said, "Listen my boy to the story I have to tell, and if you can profit by any of its lessons, do so. Men have called me morose and perhaps they are right. Women have said that I am heartless but they know not the depth of my love. Years ago I entered this institution with all the future spread in a glittering expanse before me. I was by no means a hard stu-dent. I was however an ardent lover of all kinds of sport. My means were limited so that I was not among the richer class of boys. My life passed along in its ordinary course until my com-mencement week—and then a change so sudden, so vast burst upon me that even to this day words fail to express it. I was playing on our ball team. How vividly it all comes back to me to-night, as though it were but yesterday. It was the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 3 last inning with the score a tie. Was it chance that enabled me then to be the means of winning the game for our team? I do not know. But as the boys were carrying me from the field, my attention was called to a group of ladies who wished to congrat-ulate me. Suffice it, my boy, that among that group there was one, whose modest appreciation of my chance was more wel-come to me than the compliments of all the others. That night, just a few decades ago, I walked with her under these same old shade trees, which to-night whisper their sweet old secrets to me. Then I learned for the first time that my ideal of womanhood was approaching reality. I can but marvel at the depth of thought and feeling, at the richness of mind and intel-lect which existed in so beautiful a form. My child, words to-night are inadequate to express my feelings as they were then. I said farewell with the intention of realizing all the possibilities of her ideal of manhood. It was a chance acquaintance but it influenced my life. I entered the bustle of the busy world and was amply re-warded for my labors. But the originator of all my strongest ambitions and the shaper of my character had passed from my life altogether. For years I tried to trace her but all in vain. Then my profession seemed to lose its former glamour and I grew more reticent. I thought that so many years ago it might be but a passing fancy for the fair girl by my side, but all the years of my life since, have shown me the wonderful depth of my love and affection. So sacred has her memory been to me, that never would I enter society, and so have been misunderstood. I tell you this because you are the only one in all this wide world whose affection I believe is mine. To-night after long years of separation, I met her brother. He told me of her beautiful, con-secrated life. Numerous as were her suitors, she rejected them all. Could it have been possible that she cared for me, and I missed my happiness by delay? Those swaying leaves, which whisper to you in the fulfillment of your fondest dreams, murmur to me in an undertone, that she loved me as I loved her, with all the wealth of our new-born affections. Such are the memories that rise within me upon this dear old Campus to-night. Could these trees tell the tales that they have heard, could those rooms in yonder dormitory re-echo the thoughts of their many occupants, then truly could they reveal t THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. : secrets more joyous and perhaps more sad than mine. Go forth, my boy, and meet the world with that bright smile of yours. Keep that pure spirit untainted by any wrong to your fellowmen and God. But remember, by the moral of my life, this lesson, New hope may bloom, and days may come of milder, calmer beam, But there's nothing- half so sweet in life, as love's young- dream. —S. W. H., '99. EXTRACTS FROM "HONOR IN STUDENT LIFE." A WISE college president recently declared, after an outbreak of rowdyism in his college. I am of the opinion that unless the common tenden-cies toward irresponsible conduct in college life are checked, parents will begin to doubt whether it is best to send their chil-dren to college. The older I grow the more deeply I feel that it is the duty of all people charged with any responsibility for the guidance of youth to co-operate with all others having any share in that responsibility, to the end that the young may make the most of themselves. I know of nothing which would contribute to that end more largely than to require them to respect others and the established institutions of their country. I would permit the largest freedom of individual action, on the assumption that it would be within legitimate bounds. I would not only tolerate, but I would sympathize with, and, when agreeable to them, I would join with young people in all activities in which they may properly engage. The theory upon which university authorities commonly ab-solve themselves from all responsibility for offenses committed by students away from university grounds or not in the immediate presence of the faculty, is a very convenient one, but, in my judgment, it is a very unsound one. And they are particularly charged with doing all that in them lies to help parents attain the higher ends for which they sacrifice much in order to send their children to college. It is sad to see the extent to which college students think it unmanly for them to reveal the gravest offenses committed by their associates, and even to lie in order to shield them. Tattling about ordinary shortcomings, or any of the small affairs of college life, is to be scorned. But when an offense stains the character t^mmmmmmmaammm THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ofan institution and violates the law of the state, the time has come for every true man's hand to be raised against the offender. And student and community sentiment upon this, as upon other matters, must be much influenced by university action or univer-sity indifference. The curse of college morals is a double standard—a shifting for the convenience of the moment, from the character of a respon-sible man to the character of an irresponsible boy. The admini-strative officers accept without question a student's word; they assume that he is a gentleman and that a gentleman does not lie ; if, as happens now and then, he is not a gentleman and does lie, they had rather, nevertheless, be fooled sometimes than be sus-picious always (and be fooled quite as often). Frankly treated, the student is usually frank himself; our undergraduates are, in general, excellent fellows to deal with; yet so much is done for them, so man}' oportunities are lavished on them, that the more thoughtless fail to see the relation of their rights to other people's, and, in the self-importance of early manhood, forget that the world is not for them alone. Students of this kind need delicate handling. They jealously demand to be treated as men, take ad-vantage of the instructors who treat them so, and excuse them-selves on the ground that, after all, they are only boys. This double standard is seen in both theme-copying and sign-stealing. Its moral effect is probably more insidious in the former than in the latter; for whereas persons more or less mendacious pass muster in all society but the best, no decent community outside of college will put up with a thief. In college, both offenses have been tolerated, through the pernicious doctrine, held by some re-pectable persons, that the life of every young man—or at least of every young gentleman—takes in a period of engaging anarchy, during which period almost anything short of murder may be winked at as boys' fun. Fun, and not crime, is doubtless the motive; and the fault is no more in the young men than in those staid citizens who boast their own early escapades, and are con-tent that their sons should behave no better than they did. Yet wherever the blame lies, the real nature of these acts is so plain to anyone, however young, who suffers himself to open his eyes, that the usual slow processes of education may, perhaps, be ef-fectually discarded. I 6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The rolls of our higher institutions contain our selected youth; and it should not be possible to say of them what Bismarck said of the German students, that "one-third destroy themselves by dissipation, one-third wear themselves out by over-work, and the rest govern the country," or as put by a distinguished educator, one-third go to the dogs, one-third to the grave and the rest are the strength of the republic. It is the supreme function if school and college discipline to merge the first two classes into the third —not, as we are all too prone to think, to eliminate or ignore them. The chief end of education should be to transform weak-ness into strength. If in a republic the man must outweigh the majority, then in a deep sense the whole body of our educated youth must outweigh the mass of our people. —JAMES C. MACKENZIE. A PAGE FROM PROF. BREDE'S DIARY. A VIEW from one of the peaks of the Black Forest of the whole chain of the Alps, reaching from Mt. Blanc, 140 miles away, to Tyrol in the east will not soon be forgotten, but the view from the Rigi, on Lake Lucerne, while restricted to the Bernes Alps, has probably no rival in the whole world. But the weather must be propitious. Our party ascended by the Rigi rail-way, which makes you feel as though rising in a balloon, so quickly do lake, and city, and lower hills recede; but as we neared the summit, a cloud enveloped us, a steady mist began to fall, and all hopes of having a view the following morning were apparently shattered. But let the traveler in Switzerland never despair, rise early, make the best of all his time, and carry out his programme, for when he least expects, there will be a rift in the clouds, and as ifby magic touch they will be gathered up, leaving him face to face with some sublime view, such as he had hardly hoped to see. We retired despondent, but rose to witness a glorious sunrise. The whole range of Alpine peaks stood out boldly against the blue sky, but dull and gray, when suddenly here and there a lofty peak, touched by the warm rays of the rising sun, glowed with the rosy hue of life. The snow-clad mountains, though the nearest was twenty miles away, seemed so near as to make one think the voice could reach them. The view to the south was bounded by this wall of Alpine peaks, to the west were the rugged outlines of the MMnonmaM THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. j Tura, while northward one hundred miles away, the outlines of the Vosges and Black Forest peaks could be traced, and to the east the Suabian and Bavarian ranges ; cities, towns, and villages were visible without number; the great lakes of Lucerne lay close at our feet in wonderful hues of emerald, blue, and purple, while at a greater distance on every side appeared other well-known lakes. From Lucerne we may explore the lake, or rather the series of lakes, and pass the places made illustrious by Schiller's drama of Wilhelm Tell. At Fluelen we take the railroad and pass, within the next hour, through the finest scenery of the whole St. Goth-ard route, climbing the mountains, winding about in looping tunnels, until it is utterly impossible to be certain of the direction. At the town of Geshenen we are near the head of the valley, and after seven miles of tunnel through the St. Gothard we speed along the banks of the Tessino to the shores of Lake Maggiore and the plains of Northern Italy. If we leave the railway at Geshenen, however, and go a-foot along the turbulent Reuss a few miles farther, we shall come to a wall of rock which the stream has pierced for itself—the Hole of Uri—and where the road has emerged from a tunnel, we hardly know whether to be-lieve our eyes, for before us opens a charming plain shut in on all sides by lofty mountains, this is the valley of Andermatt, and we are here at one of the most interesting points in the Alps. To our left, that is to the east, a road in sweeping curves climbs the mountain over the tunnel, which in a few hours would take us to the sources of the Rhine; opposite, a few miles along a similar road takes us over the Gothard Pass to the Rhone glacier. This rises in terraces a distance of six miles, and seems like an immense frozen cataract, while from beneath it rushes a lusty stream, the Rhone. HENRY LOUIS BAUGHER. ON the founding of Pennsylvania College in 1832, Rev. Henry L- Baugher—the father of our Prof. Baugher—was elected Professor of Greek, being transferred to the Presi-dency of the college in 1850, he continued his valuable services to the college and the church until his death, April 14, 1868. The third son of President Baugher, Henry Louis, was born August 6, 1840, and entered the Preparatory School of the college 3 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. in 1850, graduating with honor in 1857, being assigned the Greek Oration. During the next two years he taught in the schools of Uniontown, Md., Quakertown, Pa., and Washington, D. C, and in 1859-60 in the Preparatory School of Pennsylvania College. In i860, he was in the office of the Sergeant-at-Arms of the United States House of Representatives. During this troubled period in National affairs his duties required various journeys to the border and southern states. The year's 1860-1863 were spent in studies in the Theological Seminaries at Gettysburg and Andover. In 1863 he was licensed as a minister, serving for the next year as co-pastor with Rev. S. B. Barnitz in "Home Mission Work" at Wheeling, W. Va. From 1864-7 he was pastor of the Lutheran church at Norris-town, Pa. On leaving this charge he spent six months in travel in Europe, returning to take charge of the pastorate at Indian-apolis, Ind. From this work he was elected in 1868, about four months after the death of his father, President Baugher, to the Professorship of Greek Language and Literature in Pennsylvania College, entering on his new and congenial duties January 1, 1869; he continued in the professorship till 1880, when he resigned to enter the active ministry. At this time his Alma Mater in recog-nition of his services and abilities conferred on him the honor-ary degree of Doctor of Divinity. He served the Kountze Memorial congregation at Omaha, Neb., during the year 1880-1, when he returned to Gettysburg. After a short interval he was elected Professor of Greek in Howard University, Washington, D. C, serving in this position 1882-3. In x883 he was again elected Professor of Greek in Pennsylvania College, continuing till June 1896, thus completing twenty-five years of teaching service in his Alma Mater. During the periods he was teaching in the college, he also temporarily filled positions in the faculty of the Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, teaching New Testament Exegesis, 1870-4, and Sys-tematic Theology, 1883-4. For a number of years he was Vice- President of the alumni association of the college and served as chairman of the obituary committee. In 1874 when Dr. F. W. Conrad established the Augsburg Sunday School Teacher, he selected Prof. Baugher to prepare the lesson comments. On the transfer in 1875 of this publication, to the Lutheran Publication Society, Prof. Baugher was elected edi- ■H THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY tor of the Augsburg Series of Sunday School Lesson Helps—con-tributing the lesson comments and preparing the questions and aids given in the Scholar's Quarterly, continuing in this posi-tion till January i, 1894. He was a member of the International Sunday School Lesson Committee, from 1879 to 1897; and of the Board of the Lutheran Publication Society, 1877-1880. He was a trustee of Carthage College 18 80-1, and at the time of his death a director of the Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, hav-ing been continued in this position from his first election in 1889. Dr. Baugher was elected President of the General Synod in 1895, and of the Luther League of Pennsylvania, in 1896. In 1897 he was chosen editor of the Lutheran World, resigning this position in 1898, he was quietly residing in Gettysburg, having declined several pastorates and a Professorship in the Theological School of the United Synod of the South. During recent months his health failed rapidly, and he passed into rest at Philadelphia, at 10.30 P. M., February 11, 1899. Dr. Baugher was frequently elected by the West Pennsylvania Synod as a member of the General Synod. He served his Dis-trict Synod and the General Synod on many important commit-tees, he was a member of the committee which prepared Augs-burg Songs, Number One; chairman of the committee 011 the De-velopment of Luther's Smaller Catechism ; was for many years a member of the committee of Beneficiary Education of West Pennsylvania Synod ; a member of the Executive Committee of the Parent Education Society, and at the time of his death a member of the committee on revision of Hymns of the Book of Worship. The publications of Dr. Baugher consist of his editorial work. Numerous contributions to the church papers, several articles in the Lutheran Quarterly and the volume on the Gospel by Luke in the series of Lutheran Commentaries. April 3, 1872, Prof. Baugher was married to Miss Ida Smith, of York, Pa., who with one daughter, Miss Bessie, survive to la-ment a loving husband and father. The strong personality of Dr. Baugher was felt in every rela-tion in which he was placed, having strong convictions in the many matters in which he was interested, his urgency and forci-bleness in advocacy of his views always commanded attention and respect. In all public utterances as a preacher, teacher and writer IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. he was clear and impressive. As a teacher he was enthusiastic and deeply concerned for the welfare of his pupils. As a churchman he was interested in all Christian work—but specially in all things Lutheran—in her institutions, her missions, her theology. He was an advocate of central, responsible gov-ernment in the church and a leader in the recent movement for a more uniform and more extended liturgical service. He was strongly desirous of a union among the various Lutheran bodies in the United States, believing this could be attained by a con-formity to certain views as to historical Lutheran Theology. The large number of persons who had been attracted to Dr. Baugher in warm friendship will miss his genial company and his sympathetic interest in their welfare. —E. S. B. A COMPILED THANATOPSIS. "Pallida Mors aeguopulsatpedepauperum tabernas Regumque turris." THUS Horace (Odes I. 4, 13,) tells us that "Pallid Death with impartial tread at the hovels poor does knock and at palaces of kings," and echoes Solomon's words (Ecc. 3:20,) then centuries old, "All go unto one place; all are of the dust and all turn to dust again." Death above all others is impartial, laying low rich and poor, young and old. Nor does he long warn, nor is the day well known. Alfred Tennyson beautifully expresses this in the sixth poem of "In Memoriam:"— O father, wheresoe'er thou be, Who pledgest now thy gallant son, A shot, ere half thy draught be done, Hath stilled the life that beat from thee. O mother, praying God will save Thy sailor,—while thy head is bow'd, His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud Drops in his vast and wandering grave. Ye know no more than I who wrought At that last hour to please him well ; Who mused on all I had to tell, And something written, something thought. HMMMHriH I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. II Expecting- still his advent home : And ever met him on his way With wishes, thinking-, here to-day, Or 'here to-morrow—will he come.' O somewhere, meek, unconscious dove, That sittest ranging golden hair ; And glad to find thyself so fair, Poor child, that waitest for thy love ! For now her father's chimney glows In expectation of a guest; And thinking 'this will please him best,' She takes a riband or a rose. For he will see them on to-night; And with the thought her color burns; And, having left the glass, she turns Once more to set a ringlet right. And, even when she turn'd, the curse Had fallen, and her future lord Was drown'd in passing: through the ford, Or kill'd in falling from his horse. "In an hour when thou thinkest not," thus he comes as Juvenal also shows (Sat. Ill, 261-267) in telling of the death of a father while his household was preparing for him the cena. We translate the passage in verse as follows:— * * Now his household secure the pans and the dishes Wash already, and kindle the hearth-flame by puffing their cheeks up, Flesh-scrapers oily they clatter, in placing by oil-flask the towels. These things among the slaves are hastened variously, but he Sits already upon the bank, as a newcomer hateful Charon he dreads, nor hopes for the boat of the muddy, dark river In his unhappiness, nor has the coin in his mouth there to offer. "The young may die and the old must," we, too, all say, yet feel an added pang when Death takes the life while in the bud or when its first soft petals are opening. He claims this right how-ever, says Longfellow in "The Reaper and the Flowers :" There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath. And the flowers that grow between. "Shall Ihave nought that is fair ?" saith he; "Have nought but the bearded grain ?" 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Even more than we, the ancients felt this sad fate. They thought the old ought to die, and in their unmitigated selfishness urged them to die in behalf of the young when their death was necessary and even slandered them for not doing it. Just such a case occurred when, in behalf of King Admetus after all others re-fused, his dear wife, Alcestis, endured the pangs of death. Then when Pheres, the father of Admetus, brought love-tokens for the last rites and ceremonies he was met with some such gauling, shameful words as these from his son (The Alcestis of Euripides, vv. 629-672),—"Neither do you come to this funeral-feast invited by me, nor do I count your presence among the friends. These adornments of yours she shall never put on ; for she shall not be buried having any need of these your gifts. You ought then to have sympathized when /was just perishing. But you, who stood aside and let another die and she a young lady although you were an old man, do you bewail this death? Indeed you were not truly the father of this body, nor did she, alleging to have borne me and called my mother, bear me. * * Most certainly you ex-ceed all others in soullessness, you who, although being so far advanced in years and having come to the limit of life, were not willing nor had the heart to die in behalf of your son, but together with my mother let this strange woman die. * * Short for you at all events was the remaining time worth living; and I and she might have lived the remaining time, and I being left alone should not have bemoaned my misfortunes. * * But in vain are old men willing to die, finding fault with old age and a long period of life." Compare also Juvenal, Satire X, vv. 246-247. "The Stoics," said Bacon, "bestowed too much cost upon death, and by their great preparations made it appear more fear-ful." Yet how have men approached death, how should we ap-proach it? The ancient looked with greatest dread upon death. Alcestis died in a mad frenzy, heightened by Admetus' grief for his loss. Then too, it was very necessary that they die feeling as-sured of Horace's thought as found in his Odes I. 28, 36 : * * * licebit Injecto ter pulvere curras. How the old customs remain ! Thus died the ancient Greek but Juvenal again has something better. Among the things that man should desire above all others, above pleasures of time and THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 13 sense, he names a strong resolve, void of the fear of death, that reckons the closing period of life among the boons of nature. Fortem posce animum, mortis terrore carentem Qui spatium vitae extremum inter munera ponat Naturae. * * Sat. X. 3S7-3S9. Yet we would rather hear Bryant's injunction : Go thou * * "not like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dung-eon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering- trust, approach thy grave Like one who wrappes the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." We all would know that '' the spirit shall return unto God who gave it," (Ecc. 12 : 7), and that as Milton says,— Weep no more woeful Shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor ; So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky. So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, Thro' the dear might of him that walk'd the waves, Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song. In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love, There entertain him all the saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears forever from his eyes. Or as Jesus said of the maid, "she is not dead but sleepeth." —C c. G., '00. THY SPEECH BEWRAYETH THEE. Long years ago, one doleful night By pallid light of taper's dim, Our Savior faced a lawless trial Before the Sanhedrim. And while it took its course, there stood Behind the pillars of the court, A bosom friend, who now disowned A knowledge of his Lord. H THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "I do not know the man," he said, With lying- and stentorian lip ; And e'en denied with cursing tongue, His own discipleship. But all his cursings went for naught, They would not listen to his plea ; A damsel stepping forth declared : "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." Ah, truant man ! art thou surprised, When through thy polished surface peer The deadly vices of thy heart, And conscience hard and seer ? Art thou surprised because thy word Is disbelieved by friend and foe ; While those of lesser learning find A fertile soil to grow ? Be not confused as to its cause, It is not difficult to see ; For, while thy culture hides the stain, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." Thy smooth exterior may conceal The fount of stench that lies within, But through the labial orifice Will gush the streams of sin. Thou canst not hide from critic man The full abundance of thy heart; For out of it, the mouth we're told, Its issues will impart. Like as the pendulum, which makes From side to side its measured peace, So does the tongue of man explain The works behind the face. It is the signet of our God Upon his human beings placed, And gives them sure ascendancy O'er all beneath them based. If used with love, it yields a balm More healing than on Gilead grew, And will restore the saddest heart To life and health anew. When used against a wicked foe From Satan's vast and mighty horde, It's finer than Damascus steel, And sharper than a sword. IHMHHIIi^H THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 15 But rest assured, when secret sins, Their taints upon the owner leave, His tong-ue will not belie his state, His lips will not deceive. Ah ye, with records yet unstained By baneful blots of sin and doubt, Be sure before you step awry, Your sins will find you out. And thou with vain deceitful heart, Which thine own maker best can see ; Remember that by man thou'rt known, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." —J. B. BAKER, 1900. THE FAVORITE SPORT OF ROME. THE favorite form of athletic amusement of every nation is usually characteristic of its populace. The United States has her "baseball," England her "cricket," and Germany her "bowling,"—games showing a tendency in these nations to encourage that which will develop strength of body and alertness of mind for the purpose of performing the duties and enjoying the blessings of life. Russia's great love for fast driving indicates the excitable natures of her people. The occupation of the "kite-fly-ing" Chinaman well portrays his sluggishnes of both mental and bodily action. Until recently "bull-fighting'' was the chief amuse-ment of the Spanish, whose bloodthirsty and treacherous nature is evidenced by the delight with which the spectators behold such torture as is inflicted upon each other by the matador and his mad-dened antagonist. And just as modern nations have their characteristic muscular pursuits, so also had the ancient nations. Greece and Rome both attained to great excellency in the sports of the arena. But the character of the games of each betrays the difference in the char-acters of the two peoples. The Grecian government endeavored to increase the love of its subjects for such sports as foot and chariot-racing, boxing, wrestling, discus-throwing, and such other friendly contests as would increase not only physical strength, but that grace and perfect form of body for which the Grecians were noted. But Rome, on the other hand, fitted her youths only for military service, forgetting to pay atttention to human grace and i6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. beauty. For she committed the serious error of adding to her en-nobling and health-producing sports that of the' 'gladiatorial show.'' This institution had its origin about two centuries and a half before Christ, when two young men arranged a series of mortal combats at the burial of their father, a prominent Roman. They believed the spirits of the departed delighted in the shedding of blood. These combats were called a ' 'gladiatorial show,'' and the combatants "gladiators;" that is, "sword fighters." For many years these contests took place only at funerals, the deceased often having willed a sum sufficient to defray the expenses of the show. L,ater, they were held in the "Circus Maximus" of the "Forum" at Rome ; but as these places were inadequate, amphitheatres were built especially for the purpose. Of these amphitheatres, the most nearly perfect one extant is that at Rome, called the ''Coliseum.'' It is an elliptical structure consisting of many rows of marble seats built in tiers, to a height of over one hundred and fifty feet. The space in the centre, called the "arena," where the contests were held is also elliptical, and over two hundred and eighty feet long. The Coliseum is still com-plete enough for us to observe how magnificent it formerly must have been, when it had so many dens for holding animals to be slain, so many attendants, such beautiful decorations, cushioned seats to accommodate eighty-seven thousand spectators, and its arena large enough for ten thousand participants and large enough when flooded with water to hold many war-ships. This building has since been damaged by lightning and by being used as a for-tress in time of war and a quarry in time of peace, several large palaces have been built of the marble taken from it. The Coliseum has been called one of the "seven wonders of the world." Those who fought in the arena ofthis amphitheatre were formerly slaves who were condemned to die, or malefactors who were allowed to earn their liberty by fighting. But later, Roman citi-zens and even senators went into the arena. Commodius the Ro-man Emperor fought in a contest. These gladiators, however, did not enter combats without training. For this purpose they had schools or gymnasiums where they were trained in a similar manner to that in which gymnasts are to-day trained, and their diet was regulated just as the diet of our modern football players is regulated. But unlike our practice, everything was done at the schools to increase brutality and thirst for blood. Before entering THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 17 here each gladiator was obliged to take an oath, which lowered him to the rank of a slave as long as he remained there. From this fact arose the rebellion of Spartacus, which threatened for a time to overthrow the Roman Empire. For, fifty-seven gladiators, escaping from a school, took him for leader, and with the help of other slaves conquered almost the whole of Italy. Crassus, how-ever, came to the rescue of his state by defeating Spartacus. So, the show-bills being posted and the gladiators so well pre-pared for their dreadful work, the contest began. The person giving the show, or "editor," held a place of honor at the middle of one side of the arena. The combatants entered from doors at the sides. Animals to be slain were raised by elevators from their dens beneath the seats and urged into the arena. The men fought each other in different manners and with different arms. Some wore full suits of armor, frequently without eye-holes, to amuse the spectators with their ill-aimed thrusts. Some were entirely naked and carried swords. Others were on horseback and often pairs of men fought against each other. The chariot combats were very exciting. A noose was sometimes used by one gladiator to catch another. But the most interesting was the con-test between those who carried the net, tridens, and dagger, the first to entangle an opponent and the last two to kill him when caught in the net. Having cast the net and failed, the gladiator would be obliged to retreat to a corner and try to gain time in which to readjust his net for another throw, at the same time warding off the blows of his antagonist. When a gladiator was overpowered, whether he should live or be killed was determined by the wishes of the spectators. If he had fought nobly, they held up their thumbs, and he was set at liberty, If not, thumbs were turned down and he was put to death. Unlike the Greeks, besides the customary wreath ofpalms, they presented prize money to the conqueror. With the abolishment of such barbarous practices ended the greatest of the degrading influences upon the Roman mind. By these practices the people were fast becoming idle, lazy, licen-tious, and dangerous, and when Spartacus needed persons to carry out his plans, he found them among that class of people who were habitual attendants at the gladiatorial show, a class whom the Roman government had unwisely been feeding and furnishing with free amusement. Such was their desire for games THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. that they cried in the streets, "Give us bread for nothing and games forever!'' With the discontinuance of such sport came a lessening of im-purity in politics. It cost at that time about thirty-five thousand dollars for an office-seeking politician to give a show respectable enough to bring him popularity and votes. Such a sum very few men could afford to spend, and so in order to obtain such re-sources they were obliged to practice extortion upon their poor rural tenants, and to undermine the Roman government by profit-able intrigue in the city. The effects of such an institution as the gladiatorial show cause us to be glad that in our times and in our nation there are no such abominable practices to be done away with, no athletic sports that degrade to such an extent as did this Roman folly. Truly, the character of a nation may be known by the character of its athletic pursuits. c^, -D. C. B. '01. "THE CULTIVATION OF THE DRAMATIC." 1. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.—2. THE EXTENT TO WHICH IT IS CULTIVA-ATED.— 3. ITS INFLUENCE UPON SOCIETY.—4. REMARKS ON AMATEUR PLAYERS.—5. SHOULD WE TRY TO CULTIVATE THE SPIRIT.—6. CON-CLUSION. THE drama is one of the most interesting and instructive productions of the Literary Art. Its origin dates back to the ancient Greeks and Romans. A large portion of their literature is connected withthedrama. In its two forms, comedy and tragedy, it covers a large range of subjects. It seems to have grown up naturally with the people; and while it has changed somewhat from the original, yet in its fundamental principles and meaning it is still the same. The drama represents the pursuits and events of daily life, and when these are studied, and acted, they are made the more interesting, because they are then brought more vividly before the mind. We may inquire now : "To what extent is the dramatic spirit cultivated at the present time? " I cannot say whether or not it is cultivated as much now as it was many years ago ; but it cer-tainly is cultivated to a large extent. We are continually receiv-ing new plays, which rank well with the older ones, although they differ from them in some respects. Such plays as those of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 19 Shakespeare, Goldsmith and others, will never lose their place in literature. They are being played everywhere by the best pro-fessional troupes. During the winter months especially, the theaters are crowded, and people will go again and again to hear these plays. Many of the magazines give long accounts of the stage, including descriptions of the most famous actors, and an ex-planation of the plays that have been, or will be, given. It is evident that the people have not lost their love for the drama, which still holds a high place in literature. Some people are very bitterly opposed to the stage and will not allow any of their children even to see a play. They have some very good reasons to think as they do. In the early history of the drama, the highest classes of people took part in it. But later, many disreputable people went into the plays, and to-day we have troupes made up of that class. It is not to be wondered then, that many people are opposed to the stage. But in every profession we find people with whom we would not associate. Although the stage is a profession which I would not think of choosing, yet it is a profession that many very excellent people choose, and who attain to high hon-ors. There is a class of plays which have a demoralizing effect and these plays should not be exhibited. Besides the number of professional troupes, we have a number of amateur players. Almost all the colleges and smaller institu-tions have their dramatic associations. This has been done re-cently by many of the colleges. It seems to be a necessity, and both the students and friends of the institutions, take a great deal of interest in them. They give plays at home and in neighboring places, and some of them have been doing excellent work. Our association is just in its childhood, and it is making earn-est efforts to rise. It started about two years ago with but a few members and has kept on increasing until at this time it has reached a number which is able to do some good work. There seems to be a great interest taken in it, and it will not be long, if we do hard and faithful work, until we will rank well with the other colleges. This is something which should be of interest to all students, because, as some go out of the association when they are gradu-ated from college, others will then be ready to go in. s 20 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. But we say, "what is the necessity of cultivating the dra-matic?" It is of the utmost importance, for several reasons. Here one receives instructions which he cannot get as well any-where else. It is a splendid cultivation of the voice, because one is re-quired to articulate distinctly; otherwise the audience would lose interest. Then in order to become successful actors, every movement must be studied, so that we may be graceful and pleasing. We must get into the spirit of the play, and study it carefully be-fore we can render it correctly. It also gives one ease and grace in the society of others. Not every one has the ability to become a good actor, but those who have, should cultivate and use it. This is a part of our education as well as anything else. Plato says: "A good education is that which gives to the body and soul, all the beauty and all the perfection of which they are capable." Those who are studying to be successful actors, should al-ways remember that "they are playing/or the audience and not to them. They make a part of a living picture." We must for-get ourselves, so to speak, and enter into the plays withheartand mind. We shall have reached an advanced stage of development when we are able to please our audience. **&> CONCERNING THE INHABITANTS OF PORTO RICO. FOUR centuries of Spanish civilization seem to have done little for the uplifting of the primitive race of Porto Rico. Spain gave the island nothing, but took all. She pretended to administer a government, which was both arbitrary and despotic, with no thought of other than her own interest; but she demanded and required for this both the liberty and the land of the people. She corrupted their simple life and taught them vice and crime. It was seldom that they murmured. They endured their fate with scarcely a hope. They were more than long-suffering and patient. So that when a better day began to dawn, they were scarcely ready to realize it. But when the fullness of time had come and the Cas-tilian banner of oppression was forced to retire to make way for •Mam THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 21 the hallowed emblem of liberty, there was not found one to shed a tear, but a multitude to cry from the very depth of their hearts " Viva Americano." I never shall forget how an intelligent, gray-haired citizen of Ponce, with tears in his eyes, tears of honest joy, but several days after the surrender of that city, told me how seemingly impossible it was for him to believe that what he saw, was real ; then he told me how, when he was a child, he had been taught to cherish a hope of freedom and to look toward the United States for it. And how he had instilled that same doctrine of love of freedom into the minds of his own sons; and now how at last in a single night, when it was not expected, it had all come to pass,—the hope of ages realized. It was all like a dream to him, could it be and was it really true,—had God indeed heard their secret prayers ? And the tears trinkled down his careworn face. Nor less impressive to me is this instance, that when a school boy, fifty years ago, Mr. Rivera, (late one of the secretaries of the new autonomic govern-ment granted the island by the Sagasta ministry) should have written a poem, one stanza of which, translated, is that "Someday the great Eagle of Liberty from the north shall swoop down upon this island, and bear away the monstrous brute bleeding in his talons." And it was, strange as it may seem, Mr. Rivera's re-ward to have the honor as well as the privilege to be among the first Porto Ricans to swear his allegiance to that country in the North from which in time the "Eagle of Liberty" came. We might go on and multiply instances to show how the love of the Porto Ricans for our flag and nation ever manifested itself; we might continue to tell of mothers, who have brought their chil-dren miles that they might only see the flag of the free, and how reverently their daughters have tenderly caressed and kissed its folds, how also on the field of battle men and women have followed that flag with water for our famished soldiers, but are these not sufficient for the credulous ? But who are these inhabitants of Porto Rico ? They are of two classes, viz., the rich and the poor. The rich own the land and the poor live on it. The rich are of Spanish descent, and the poor are descended from the aborigines and the negro slaves, but still the rightful owners of the soil. The poor are indeed very poor and the rich very few. The poor were too poor and the rich too few to promote any enterprise of particular consequence upon I 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ■ the island ; so that the condition of the people under the Spanish regime was most deplorable in every phrase. The little capital that did manifest itself upon the island was largely from without. For the few rich, who did by chance pos-sess any means beyond their land, were fearful to invest; because a successful business was only so much plunder for the unscrupu-lous agents of the so-called government. Thus were the inhabi-tants by the very nature of their government driven to and held in a condition solely dependent on the product of the soil. There-fore in the soil lay the hidden wealth of the island beyond the reach of the Spanish vandal. And it was a great wealth ; for a benign Providence had made the island rich and fertile. I '00. EDITOR'S DESK. THE late staff of the MERCURY has done work worthy of Get-tysburg, and we cannot let the members of the staff pass from service without thanking them, in the name of the friends of the MERCURY, for their sincere, hard work. During the last year they surmounted disheartening obstacles and have given into the charge of the new staff, a paper which ranks with the best college publications in the state. The present editors and business managers take pride in controlling the GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 27 The committee in charge of the annual parade did not forget Washington—they simply remembered the blizzard. The condi-tion of the streets on the 22nd, proved the good judgment of the committee. As for the town youngsters who, had the parade been held, very likely would have caused some trouble, there is a gen-eral understanding in college, that the baseball and football men assisted by all other students, keep the youngsters where they be-long during the games on Nixon Field. We are glad to know that the parade was missed, for the celebration of Washington's birthday by a parade is an annual event of Gettysburg which cus-tom has made dear. During the recent blizzard, Gettysburg was practically cut off from the rest of the world ; but college work went on. It was not an uncommon thing, while the trees on the campus were wrestling with the raging storm, to see the form of some student or professor, bent at an angle of 45° to withstand the blasts, slowly wending his way over the pathless plain toward Recitation Hall, which, be-cause of the blinding sheets of snow, appeared in dim outline. Occasionally refractory hats would leave their accustomed places and accompany the gale; these would be hotly pursued by the owners, and sometimes by words "that would never do to tell." The storm passed by. Snow plows were welcomed at the de-pots, and mail trains were eagerly awaited, and when they came, many letters, long delayed, caused good cheer to return to the despondent hearts of numerous students. Soon the pavements of the town were cleared, leaving long channels through the deep snow ; and in due time we were permitted to walk on the concrete (?) avenues of the campus. On the evening of Feb. 21, Mr. Beck, a Lutheran missionary from Siberia, delivered an address to the students of Seminary. All pronounced the address interesting and highly profitable. On the afternoon of the following day, Mr. Beck gave a short but in-teresting talk to the "Volunteer Band" of college. The plain, child-like manners of Mr. Beck are a sure testimony to the nobility of his character. —,Ji:i,LJ.L:lii±i!li±LilJ^. 28 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The staff is highly gratified at the readiness with which the contributors of this issue, offered their productions. We notice in college, a perceptible increase of what we might term, "literary-courage. '' Until last year our students were timid about publish-ing their work because they hesitated to face the guying of their fellow students. Now, however, no one is guyed for an honest attempt in the literary line, but he is rather commended by all for his "good work." Although some articles published by the MERCURY from time to time may not be the very best, the editors desire to publish them for the much needed encouragement of literary work. Heretofore the MERCURY has published home talent in preference to other, and the present staff intends to pursue the same course. As for this issue, although there was but a week to prepare it—we have endeavored to turn out a GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The late trip of the College Musical Clubs was an exceedingly pleasant one in more ways than one. Despite the bad weather, which interfered materially with the audiences, the boys express themselves as having the most enjoyable trip in the memory of any man on the club, and all are loud in the praises of the yonng ladies they met in the different towns of the Cumberland Valley. The college girls especially seemed to appeal to these college boys of ours. There is a quick twinkle of pleasure in every man's eye when Irving is mentioned. By far the best concert of the trip was given there, and it certainly must have been the inspira-tion of so many charming hostesses that enchanted the boys, even to the extent of falling up the steps, and losing some other fel-low's pennants. Then there was the reception afterwards and chapel the next morning, and finally the matinee in Harrisburg on Saturday, and many large square envelopes at the post-office after the blizzard was over. The Glee Club men will not forget Irving soon, and wish for some pretext to go back this year. We bespeak a big audience for the Irving Club if they ever come to Gettysburg. 'Rah for our sister ! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 29 KEE MAR RECEPTION. GETTYSBURG has many excellent young people but not enough to go around. As a result many of the college boys fail to secure the social culture they are expected to have when once graduated. A consciousness of this lack of social training added double interest to our anticipations when we as a senior class were invited to Kee Mar college to a reception. Our most sanguine expectations were realized. A warm welcome was extended to us by members of the faculty and students and we soon felt that we were among friends. The spacious halls were decorated with the Maryland colors, and adorned with plants. And while the patter of light feet kept time to the sweet music, other lads and lassies strolled up and down the corridors, or al-lowed cupid to drive them into a secluded spot where the side-long glances of glinting eyes pierced the armor of the hardest heart. Appropriate toasts were given and responded to, refreshments served, when the laughing moon slowly setting warned us to de-part. His warnings were seconded by the college authorities, else some of the boys had been there yet. Saturday morning we college men were invited to a concert given by the College Glee Club. A very few minutes served to show how much easier we felt in this home of the nymphs. Formality was absent. After an extended program of excellent music which charmed us all, the boys from Gettysburg responded with a few impromptu verses and various yells which had a strange echo in those halls. But the unfeeling hands and expressionless face of the clock pointed to the hour of final departure, Kodaks, handkerchiefs, mementoes, were in evidence, and a fierce struggle between love and duty was fought in many hearts. But though the time was too short for one of our number to pay his respects to our land-lord, we all caught the train. It was a long way home, and many fellows have been longing ever since. A reunion is being wished for soon. Some of the crowd see nothing but Kee Mar to this day on every page of every book, while pretty faces are seen even when their eyes are closed. Not a little of the pleasure of the trip was owing to our hav-ing with us Miss Menges, formerly a classmate, now at Irving ; and Miss Welty, our class poet, who, though she never was a boy 3° THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. in all her life, yet gave expression to the common feeling of the boys whose thoughts were too deep to beset down even in poetry. This promises to be the only song sung around here until after June 15. TO KEE MAR. TUNE—"Jnanita." Swift o'er the mountain Speed the boys of ninety-nine, White gleam the snow fields In the bright moon-shine. To fair Kee Mar College Where the lovely maidens dwell,' As the train moves onward Hear the joyous " yell." Kee Mar, lovely Kee Mar, Full of hope we came to thee, Kee Mar, kindly Kee Mar, Thou wilt gracious be. Slow o'er the mountain Back returneth ninety-nine, Each eye a fountain Shedding drops of brine. For some hearts are broken How it happened none can tell, And the word now spoken Is a sad farewell. Kee Mar, lovely Kee Mar, All our heart we leave with thee, Kee Mar, loyal Kee Mar, Ever faithful be. When in our dreaming / Eives again that happy night, We'll catch the gleaming Of those eyes so bright. Hear the low, sweet music, Tread again the stately hall, With the girl we worshiped At the Kee Mar ball. Kee Mar, well-loved Kee Mar, In the years that are to be, Kee Mar, darling Kee Mar, We'll remember thee ! ma THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 31 SUCCESS IN ART. EVERY artist strives for success. But this word "success" admits of several definitions. In the mind of one artist it means money or fame or both; to another, it means a knowl-edge of his art and ability to enjoy it. Success, then, can be true or false. True success in art is attained when art is studied for art's sake and the product is real art. An essential in attain-ing such success is that the artist himself be true. That is he must be "heart, head and hand" an artist. The desire to create is natural, but besides this, knowledge and complete mastery of materials and implements is indispensable. An artist must first be completely grounded in every detail of his art before he should begin to produce. In every trade among artisans, ignorance under this heading is unknown; badly constructed articles of merchan-dise find no market. So it should be in art. Knowledge must be the absolute foundation or else the creation will be as faulty and unbalanced as a house of cards and will fall to pieces at the first shaft of intelligent criticism. In all good works on harmony the very last chapters are reserved for the treatment of composition of melodies. This in itself teaches a lesson, and one which is very evident; it says, "Now after you have the foundation laid you may safely attempt the superstructure." Technique and method guided by intelligence, are absolutely required. Then the successful artist must be industrious, patient, and persevering. We gaze in rapture at a beautiful painting or hear an exquisite piece of music and we forget that back of it all lay a long, steep and toilsome road, tediously climbed. Constant and tiresome was much of the labor. An artist must essentially have what has been called the "artistic temperament"—*. e. imaginative and sympathetic power. Ruskin says, "The qualities which distinctly mark an artist with-out which he must be feeble in life, forgotten in death—with which he may become one of the shakers of earth and one of the signal lights in heaven—are those of sympathy and imagination." Imagination is the strength of all art, of everything beautiful in architecture, sculpture, painting, poetry or music. The Venus of Milo, in all its beauty was seen in the rough marble shaft by the sculptor, long before the releasing chisel touched the stone. And sympathy, too. is necessary in order that the creations should 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. be properly interpreted and understood. So strong should this temperament be in every artist that the artist himself will lose sight of the "ego" in his work, while to others his individuality shines out in every one of his creations. How many engaged in some art have been so eager in anticipation of artistic success that they have forgotten the soul in the wealth of splendid tech-nique they exhibit in their works ! They do not live their art and hence are not true to themselves. Study well any of the classics in literature, painting, sculpture or music and see how easy it is to recognize the productions of the same brain. So every true artist will imprint on each piece of his work a certain indescrib-able something which makes each resemble the other and dis-tinguishes it from the creations of other artists. And then the artist must do his best. No half-hearted attempt will be successful. Simple productions should be attempted at first; nothing elaborate, as for instance, in music, a Grand March or an Overture ought to be undertaken,—but some little theme, well and faithfully worked out. These should be the characteristics of everyone engaged in art; and one of the reasons why this is not so is because so many of the art public do not understand art sufficiently to demand better creations. In the construction of articles used in everyday life, there is no necessity for especial education to detest frauds, it only requires common sense; but with art products, however, it is different entirely. One often meets with highly intelligent people who cannot distinguish between a colorless daub and an original work of art, filled with atmosphere and light. They have not yet educated their eye to see wherein lies the difference; again, we see many who prefer an everyday, popular song, superficial and light, to the beautiful melodies of an Abt, a Schubert, or a Verdi. Education in art is evidently not sufficiently general to enable everyone to make these distinctions. Ignor-ance of beauty of form, or structure, undeveloped imagina-tion, unappreciation of beauty of symmetry are too general. Suc-cessful attempts are being made to remedy this, especially in literature, by the University Extension Movement. People are discovering that they need not necessarily be college graduates to become cultured and appreciate the best. This is a condition, then, for which some allowance can be made but what shall be done for the individual—and he is one of a large family—who IHHH I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 33 I while admitting his ignorance of the principles of art, yet cooly in-forms you that he can "tell a fine painting when he sees it, or a good piece of music when he hears it?" This is the class of peo-ple who open the way for those would-be artists who make "suc-cess" and "money"synonyms. They are both pretenders. The public, eager to be gullied, thinking that money will purchase everything, aims at seeming to be well-versed in art; the artist, with little real knowledge, and less imagination, too insincere and full of pretence to live his own life aims at the money or social position his apparent art productions will procure for him. Each deserves pity. They may gain their respective ends, but neither can ever know the delights of one who has developed a taste for art, or who has consecrated his life to it. They cannot, with all their wealth buy the wholesome, pure and rapturous thrill of delight, for one second, that another can invoke at will from such as Bach, Beethoven, Horace, Shakespeare, Raphael, or Wagner. Success in art, then, cannot be measured by the money one gains; a true artist will live in his art long after millionaires have passed away. Michael Angelo, Dante, and Palestrina still live while the names of their contemporary moneyed men are dead. And let us bear in mind, too, that the road to success is always one of toil and weariness. —P. '00. THE TRIP TO CHAMBERSBURG. ABOUT forty of the boys took advantage of the recent good sleighing and went to Chambersburg to attend a concert given by our Glee and Musical Clubs. The party was divided into three sled loads and got started after an hour's delay in waiting for our Proctor (who decided to accompany us about the time we were ready to start) to get a hair-cut and shave in or-der to be presentable to the sight of the Wilson girls. Soon after leaving Gettysburg it started to snow hard, so we had to break our own road, which soon told on our horses. When we reached the top of the mountain we were informed that we were favored if the horse would be able to get us to Chambersburg that night, much less bring us back. The boys got scared and decided to wade the snow when a steep hill was reached rather than spend the rest of l^uMmmmmmummMwmm 34 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the night so far from friends. All the other sleds, which were lighter, passed us on the mountain except the fourth one, which was a cutter with two freshmen in it. They heard of the fellows going, so the}' went up town and after much persuasion, and many promises in case the horse and sleigh were lost, they started out in pursuit of the other three sleds. The heavy snow covered all traces of a trail, yet by the aid of matches and sign-boards they reached the top of the mountain where the road was rough, the trees close on either side, no full moon to light the way, in fact there was nothing there but a team and two scared freshmen. One was positive that there were bears in the mountain because he knew of one having been shot recently. The other tried to con-vince him that they were perfectly safe so long as they staid in the road, but after a few strange sounds were heard in the woods and a few dark stumps were seen in the direction of the noise, they were both positive of the presence of bears, so they turned and lost no time in getting back home, where they related their ex-perience to their friends. Our last through sled reached its desti-nation after a long six hour's drive. The only amusement on the way over was giving yells, singing songs and telling stories. We went immediately to the concert, where we were greeted by the presence of about thirty Wilson girls who showed their appreci-ation for our yells and songs by their innocent cousinly smiles. After the concert we had supper, a thing we looked forward to after we walked the second steep hill. About 11 p. M. we were informed that it would be impossible for the horses to make the return trip that night. Well, the common topics of conversation among the boys who went financially prepared to return the same night, were as follows: Where are you going to sleep? Have you any money to lend ? Do you have any relatives in town ? And do you think we can stand the proprietor off? It happened that some went prepared to stay a week, so the money soon became equally divided, and the boys spent a pleasant night but by no means a quiet one, if you can believe the report of the proprietor. The next morn-ing we were allowed the privilege of visiting the Wilson College and attending chapel with the girls, a privilege which seemed to be enjoyed mutually, judging by the interest they took in showing us through the college buildings. On our way back the only stop made was at the big hotel on the top of the mountain where we THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 35 did justice to a good dinner. The trip was enjoyed by all who took it and the same crowd could be easily induced to repeat the trip, especially if the Wilson girls were at the other end of the line. —H. M. C. ATHLETICS. THE Sons of Hercules have gotten down to systematic work, and expect to hold their exhibition about the third week in March. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings are devoted to this branch of athletics, basket-ball occupying the floor on other days. A number of old men are candidates, includ-ing Koser, who is leader, Traub, Bottinger, Stock, Straw, Brum-baugh, Smith, Smyser, Jr., and Bickel. These are all men whose work is well-known. Among new men who are showing up well may be mentioned Stock, Jr., McClean, Claney, Koser, W. W. Hartman, Smyser, Jr., and Ketterman. In general, the work is of a high standard and promises a good exhibition. Beside the usual features, it will include this year, boxing and wrestling ; and the programme will also be varied by performances of the glee and mandolin clubs. A game of basket-ball will close the evening, which is certainly one to look forward to with pleasure. There is plenty of good material yet dormant, however. Let every man come out and do his best to make this year's gym team a success. Manager Weigle has completed his schedule for the coming season with the exception of one date. It is as follows: April IS—Franklin and Marshall at Lancaster. April 20—Susquehanna at Selinsgrove. April 21—Bucknell at Lewisburg. April 22—State at State College. April 26—Dickinson at Gettysburg-. May 5—Susquehanna at Gettysburg. May 6—Indians at Carlisle. May 13—Dickinson at Carlisle. May 20 -Franklin and Marshall at Gettysburg. May 27—Indians at Gettysburg. June 3—Open. June 10—Bucknell at Gettysburg. It will be noted that we meet Dickinson again for the first time in five years and other old rivals are on the list. All the teams ^mmmmmmm 36 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. are about our strength and there is no reason why we should not have a successful season. Let every man come out and get down to hard work and we will make the season of '99 one to be re-membered. EDITOR'S SCISSORS. That New Year resolution, Unlike most things of earth, Grows ever small and smaller; It was biggest at its birth.—Ex. HEARD AFTER THE BLIZZARD. " Don't you throw that at me, kid ! " " Gwan, I'll lick the whole college." —W. The boys came over the mountain, The boys came over the mountain, The boys came over the mountain, To see the Wilson girls, To see the Wilson girls, To see the Wilson girls, The boys came over the mountain, The boys came over the mountain, The boys came over the mountain, To see the Wilson girls. We won't go home till morning, We won't go home till morning, We won't go home till morning, For we've seen the Wilson girls, We've seen the Wilson girls, We've seen the Wilson girls, We won't go home till morning, We won't go home till morning, We won't go home till morning, We've seen the Wilson girls. -Sled No. 1. When you leave college without permission, always take the Proctor along. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 37 Old Dorm to New Dorm ; "You may be pretty, but you're terribly cracked." New Dorm to Old Dorm ; " Cork it off ! You've been full ten years." I saw an old man in a funny old wig Go dancing- along-, jiggity gig. Behind him there capered and gambolled a dog And a donkey that ambled, joggity jog. They jigged and they jogged and they gambolled in glee To the tune of a fiddler, fiddle dee dee. They went till they came to the volcano's top, And down they went into it, hobbity, hop. And then I didn't see them any more. —Castalian. ,t^^ri:sjr~s->r-s5jr*sis->t4r-»r~s>jr^-> RINTING WE PRINT THIS BOOK ^ and BINDING MT. HOLLY PRINTING COMPANY. The Mount Holly Stationery and Print-ing Company does all classes of Printing and Binding, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertaining to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. MT. HOLLY SPRINGS, PA. ^«_r^_jr-M^--w~jr^r^:r^r^:kJc^jr"5^rT^r-^^r-5«j H. S. BENNER, ■-^--ib tEroxel. Dealer in ^irte (groceries anb Itottons *_x_4}orfc Street. Teachers. Union Teachers' Agencies of America REV. L. D. BASS, D. D., Manager. Pittsburgh Pa., Toronto, Can., New Orleans, La., New York, N. Y., Washington, D. C, San Francisco, Cal., Chicago, 111., St. Louis, Mo., Denver, Col. There are thousands of positions to be filled. We had over 8,000 vacancies last sea-son. Unsurpassed facilities for placing leachers in any part of the U. S. or Canada. One fee registers in 9 offices. More vacan-cies than teachers. Address all applications toPITTSBURG, PA. MUMPER & BENDER Furniture Cabinet Making, Picture Frames Baltimore St., GETTYSBURG, PA. .GO TO. I}otel (Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square- B. M. SEFTON. W. F. CODORI, Sim^Tcodori Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. .ao TO. TIPTON & BARBEHENN, Barbers, In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. Subscribe for t£jc .©ettysburg. HIercury MtfH FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. I gasebaU ^applies, .SpalOtng's SLeague JBail, dftite, dfcasfcs, Etc. Managers should send for samples and special rates. Every requisite for Jennie, ©olf, Crtcftet, aracft anO ffielb, ©gmnaetum Equipments ant) ©utftts Complete Catalogue Spring and Summer Sports Free. The Name the Guar-antee." a. ©. SpalOlng & JSros. New York .•. Philadelphia V Chicago S. G. Spangles & Co., Piitc >IfW 102 EAST MIDDLE STREET. Telephone 39. S. J. CODORI, Jr. *H Druggist*** Dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Articles, £ Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. .Baltimore Street. R. H. Gulp, PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York St. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER. 19 S. NINTH ST.PHILADELPHIA. PA SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through C. H. Tilp. Gotrell # Leonard, 472-474 Broadway, Albany, N. Y. makers of CAPS, GOWNS and. HOODS To the leading American Colleges. Illus-trated Manual, etc., upon application. Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS OF SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. mK^^m^mt^^mmm PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. You can't expect to create the im-pression that you are well dressed unless your clothes are MADE FOR YOU. Equivocate as you may, the fact remains that ready-made g-arments lack that air of exclusiveness which custom work possesses. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg St., Gettysburg-, Pa. G. E. SPANGLER, j» ( Successor to J. W. Eicholtz & Co.,) Dealer in Pianos, Organs, Music, Musical Instruments, Strings, Etc. YORK STREET, 1ST SQUARE. GETTYSBURG. II08 CHESTNUT ST., PHILA. Wright's Engraving House HAS become the recognized leader in unique styles of COLLEGE and FRA-TERNITY ENGRAVINGS and STA-TIONERY, College and Class-day Invita-tions, engraved and printed from steel plates Programmes, Menus, Wedding and Recep-tion Invitations, Announcements, etc., etc. Examine prices and styles before ordering elsewhere. Fifty Visiting Cards from New Engraved Plates $1.00. ERNEST A. WRIGHT, 1108 CHESTNUT ST., PHILADELPHIA. JOHN L. SHEADS, New Cigar Store Next Door to W. M. Depot, GETTYSBURG. P. F. HENNIG, DEALER IN Bread, Rolls, Pretzels, Crackers, YORK ST., GETTYSBURG. Reasonable Rates to Clubs. 1XX filler, Grocer, Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season . . . \9 TXlain St., ©ettusburg. City Hotel, Main St. Gettysburg. J* Free 'Bus to and from all Trains Thirty seconds' walk from either depot Dinner with drive over field with four or more, 51.35 Rates $1.50 to $2.00 per day. John E. Hughes, Prop. C. A. Blocher's Jewelry Store, For Souvenir Spoons, Sword Pins Etc. All kinds of Jewelry. Repairing- a Specialty. POST OFFICE CORNER CENTRE SQUARE .Photographer. No. 3 Main St., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. Our new effects in Portraiture are equal to photos made anywhere, and at any price.

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

Issue 41.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1982. ; REVIEW FOR REIolGIOI.IS (ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO, © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI,IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscfip!ion U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $1"/.00 for two years. Olher countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW Eou RELIC.IOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, 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 Sept./Oct., 1982 Volume 41 Number 5 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence wilh thc editor should be sent to REVII.:W FOR R~:I.,(;~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be senl Io Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuil Community; SI. Joseph's University; Cily Avenue at 541h SI.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~ou REL~(aOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Letters of Gratitude Robert F. Morneau In this article, Bishop Morneau is attempting an experiment, the inspiration of which he explains in his introduction. If his effort responds to a sufficient desire in the audience, he has other letters to other authors already in mind. Bishop Morneau, Auxiliary Bishop of Green Bay, has an office at Ministry to Priests Program; 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. How many of us, well-intentioned indeed, have been moved to express gratitude for gifts received but, lacking either sufficient discipline or crowded by pressing demands, have failed to properly recognize our benefactors. I stand self-accused! Though trained in younger years to promptly send thank-you notes, distance from gracious family policies has allowed this excellent habit to diminish ,and finally disappear. This present collection of thank you letters, though long overdue, attempts to make restitution; it seeks to halt my proclivity to take things for granted. Several stimuli have served as prods in this present endeavor. One was Flannery O'Connor's The Habit of Being. l found in her collected letters a style of discourse that might be labeled "heart .talk": simple, direct and highly personal Listening in to her conversations with a variety of persons proved to be for me enriching and inspiring. A second stimulus came from a reflection of Henri Nouwen in his sensitive autobiographical piece The Genesee Diary: Meanwhile, it remains remarkable how little is said and written about letter writing as an important form of ministry. A good letter can change the day for someone in pain. can chase away feelings of resentment, can create a smile and bring jo.t, to the heart. After all, a good part of the New Testament consists of letters, and some of the most profound insights are written down in letters between people who are attracted to each other by a deep personal affection, l~tter writing is a very important art, especially for those who want to bring the good news (p. 70-71). A third and most important stimulus comes from a personal desire, i.e., a longing that others might meet some of the people who have touched my life. 641 642 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Their wisdom and gifts are too valuable to remain on shelves, collecting dust while our spirits remain famished. These jottings of mine are means to an end. They attempt to draw the reader to lovingly pursue the .full text of each author addressed. The passages 1 have included are merely hors d'oeuvres; the main course lies in the books themselves. Our libraries contain a wealth of material that boggles the mind How to be selective in such a rich mine; what gems to carry out and which to leave behind? The choice, like all choices, causes us joy in the books withdrawn, sorrow at what must be foregone because of our limitations. But then there are other seasons for further reading and future generations to ponder other authors. Three letters are contained in this series. The first is written to Julian of Norwich (b. 1342 - d. 1416). In her masterpiece of spiritual literature, Showings, Julian articulates how God revealed himself in her life. Her work is marked by clarity and depth, compassion and keen sensitivit.v, theological precision and accu-racy. The work is a deep personal witness of how the human heart is touched b), divine love. The second letter is addressed to Simone Weil. She lived from 1909 to 1943. She was a brilliant mathematician and philosopher and became deeply involved in social and political issues. Though attracted to Catholicism, she never was received into the Church. Her writings show deep sensitivity and keen intelli-gence. Ralph Waldo Emerson, an American essayist and poet, is the recipient of the third letter. He lived from 1803 to 1882. His essays are filled with poetic insight and challenging convictions. He was a gifted man who articulated well the inner journey. Hopefully, these letters will draw us into a deeper appreciation of three who journeyed before us. Hopefully, too, we will be challenged to read the primary sources. Julian Norwich, England Dear Julian, I write in gratitude for your spiritual journal which has touched the heart of the human condition in many ~vays. For those who are skeptical of private revelations, and I am one of them, your writings indicate that such workings of God are authentic when received and expressed in grace. I would like to share now some of the themes and reflections that touch my spirit. Your God! Courteous, accessible and familiar! At the heart of such a theology is your intense awareness of a God whose love is personal, a God who waits and longs for us, his people. I noted that you used the adjective "courteous" of God well over fifty .times, driving home the point of his graciousness and intense affectivity. How attractive this is: to be drawn by love to God rather than to be exposed to harsh attributes of anger and wrath. And what a struggle you had to Letters of Gratitude / 645 find the compatibility between wrath in God and his rich courtesy. Yet your sense of sin and the necessity of mercy permeate all your writings. Sin is offensive to God indeed; yet his love comes to our sinfulness in mercy and healing. The God you experienced is indeed the God of Scripture. You are now famous, you know, for calling God "mother." More specifically, you applied this term to Jesus because it is through him that we are reborn and nurtured in our new life. He carries us, as a mother does her child, in fruitful pregnancy. Based on this analogy of birth, nurturing and pregnancy, the only fitting term is "mother." Hopefully, this beautiful image will not be lost because of myopic imagination or airtight theologies. In your life of seclusion, the charge might be made in our age of high social consciousness that you lived a truncated spirituality. However, your reflections constantly call people to virtue, the practical living out in specific ways the love of God experienced in prayer. Moreover, you often use the expression "fellow-Chris-tians" which indicates that you were deeply concerned about all people. Thomas Merton once stated that he never felt so close to God and his fellow pilgrims as when he was in solitude. That paradoxical experience was also part of your life and you shared it with us well. Speaking of well-ness! A constant refrain is that "all will be well." Time and time again you drive us back to the mystery of providence and the demand for trust in the Lord. The great deed of God will be to bring about total healing of .history and creation. We stand too close to pain to realize this but you had. the faith to believe in the darkness. Indeed, faith is the ability to say "I know that you know." Yet in the darkness of our pain and frailty we want all to be well now, unable and unwilling to accept the woe that comes our way. Again you call us to a central spiritual truth: well-being or woe is not the heart of the matter, rather it is doing the will of the Father. In this lies all holiness and peace. You are a good teacher. Through the analogy of a hazelnut (183), you draw together the mysteries of being created, loved and preserved; the image of a knot (284), points out the tremendous bonding between God and ourselves; at the bottom of the sea (193) you remind us of God's continual presence; in the magnifi-cent image of the city (337) you point out how God dwells forever in our inner abode; in the analogy of the king-servant (188ff) we are present with the familiar and personal working relationship between the Creator and his creature. Add to these pictures of wounds, a purse, the ground, a gardener, a citadel, and you bring us through images into insight. These delightful mental "buckets" help us to retain a wealth of truth and theology. Romanticism gives way to realism because you lived constantly in the shadow of the cross and the experience of suffering that such discipleship entails. You longed to taste.the sufferings of Jesus, your Beloved. Thus your spiritual life was a mixture of consolation and desolation; you accepted this as your Savior did in his life. Very helpful is your description of the alternating movements of the spirits and the constant challenge to accept either with equal peace of mind. Our natural inclination is to flee pain, poverty and deprivation; grace allows us to endure and 644 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 participate in this dark side of life and thereby make great spiritual progress. Attitude of mind is crucial; grace is necessary to train us in proper disposition. The fact that we have little or no control over the alternating spirits deep within adds its own unique cross. Acceptance of this fact is a key to spiritual maturity. In what lies happiness? What is heaven? You respond to these questions with directness and simplicity. Heaven is Jesus: happiness is found in personal relation-ships with our God and his creation. Having things is replaced by being possessed by Love. Being is more significant than doing, though the latter will follow freely when love is embraced. Further, God's bliss is in us--we are his delight, his bliss, his crown. What magnificent mutuality here! God's countenance never changes, his eyes are always filled with love, his smile is graciously upon us. A God who delights in his creatures--you have repeated well the message of the psalmist. Central to our relationship with God is prayer. I really enjoyed your distinction between higher and lower contemplation (339), the former focusing on God's love and causing spiritual joy and delight, the latter gazing upon sin and keeping us in reverential fear and holy shame. What a beautiful balance, a trait that is discernible throughout your writings. Indeed, without contemplation we begin to distance ourselves from our subjective experience and thus from the Lord. Yet he remains ever close; we must be disposed to hear and respond to his slightest touch. Two last points are of great interest to me: the constant reference to divine indwelling and the seeking/finding theme. God has, in his inscrutable providence, decided to make his home within our being. From this flows an incomprehensible dignity that we are challenged to attend to. With such a guest, how reverently we should live! It is because of our blindness and insensitivity that we fail many times to live within this presence. Then too, Julian, you speak of two movements that are of great importance: seeking the Lord and finding him. For you indicate that in the finding we receive consolation and deep joy; in the seeking, the Lord is pleased and delighted. Both are good, yet what is central is the Lord's will. Thus if we are to find the Lord, then we should rejoice in such a grace. Come what may, it is recognizing and doing God's will that determines sanctity. For your lightness of touch, for your sharing of faith vision, for your modeling of prayer, for your gentle humanness, I thank you. With deep affection, RFM Happiness Contentment For until I am substantially united to him, I can never have perfect rest or true happiness, until, that is, 1 am so attached to him that there can be no created thing between my God and me. (183) For this is the loving yearning of the soul through the touch of the Holy Spirit. from the understanding which I have in this revelation: God, of your goodness give me yourself, for you are enough for me, and I can ask for nothing which is less which can pay you full worship. And if I ask anything which is less, always I am in want; but only in you do I have everything. (184) Letters of Gratitude / 845 God's Will Relativity Pleasing God ¯. and therefore we may with reverence ask from our lover all that we will, for our natural will is to have God, and God's good will is to have us, and we can never stop willing or loving until we possess him in the fullness of joy. And there we can will no more, for it is his will that we be occupied in knowing and loving until the time comes that we shall be filled full in heaven¯ (186) But the reason why it seemed to my eyes so little was because I saw it in the presence of him who is the Creator. To any soul who sees the Creator of all things, all that is created seems very little¯ (190) And this vision taught me to understand that the soul's constant search pleases God greatly¯ For it cannot do more than seek, suffer and trust. And this is accomplished in every soul, to whom it is given by the Holy Spirit. And illumination by finding is of the Spirit's special grace, when it is his will. Seeking with faith, hope and love pleases our Lord, and finding pleases the soul and fills it full of joy. And so I was taught to understand that seeking is as good as contemplating, during the time that he wishes to permit the soul to be in labor. It is God's will that we seek on until we see him, for it is through this that he will show himself to us, of his special grace, when it is his will. And he will teach a soul himself how it should bear itself when it contem-plates him, and that is the greatest honor to him and the greatest profit to the soul, and it receives most humility and other virtues, by the grace and guidance of the Holy Spirit¯ For it seems to me that the greatest honor which a soul can pay to God is simply to surrender itself to him with true confidence, whether it be seeking or contemplating. These are the two activities which can be seen in this vision: one is seeking, the other is contemplating. Seeking is common to all, and every soul can have through grace and ought to have discretion and teaching from Holy Church¯ It is God's will that we receive three things from him as gifts as we seek¯ The first is that we seek willingly and diligently without sloth, as that may be with his grace, joyfully and happily, without unreasonable depression and useless sorrow. The second is that we wait for him steadfastly, out of love for him, without grumbling and contending against him, to the end of our lives, for that will last only for a time¯ The third is that we have great trust in him, out of complete and true faith, for it is his will that we know that he will appear, suddenly and blessedly, to all his lovers. For he works in secret, and he will be perceived, and his appearing will be very sudden¯ And he wants to be trusted, for he is very accessible, familiar and courte-ous, blessed may he be. (195-196) And in this my understanding was lifted up into heaven, where I saw our Lord God as a lord in his own house, who has called all'his friends to a splendid' feast. Then I did not see him seated anywhere in his own house; but ! saw him reign in his house as a king and fill it all full of joy and mirth, gladdening and consoling his dear friends with himself, very familiarly and courteo.usly, with wonderful melody in endless love in his own fair blissful countenance, which glorious countenance fills all heaven full of the joy and Citations are reprinted from Julian of Norwich, Showings. trans, by Edmund Colledge, O.S.A., and James Walsh, S.J., © 1978 by The Missionary Society of St. Paul the Apostle in the State of New York, used by permission of Paulist Press. 646 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Dryness of Spirit bliss of the divinity. (203) This vision was shown to teach me to understand that some souls profit by experiencing this. to be comforted at one time, and at another to fail and to be left to themselves. God wishes us to know that he keeps us safe all the time, in sorrow and in joy; and sometimes a man is left to himself for the profit of his soul, although his sin is not always the cause. For in this time I committed no sin for which I ought to have been left to myself, for it was so sudden. Nor did I deserve these feelings of joy, but our Lord gives it freely when he wills, and sometimes he allows us to be in sorrow, and both are one love. For it is God's will that we do all in our power to preserve our consolation, for bliss lasts forevermore, and pain is passing, and will be reduced to nothing for those who will be saved. Therefore it is not God's will that when we feel pain we should pursue it in sorrow and mourning for it, but that suddenly we should pass it over, and preserve ourselves in the endless delight which is God. (205) And when we fall back into ourselves, through depression and spiritual blindness and our experience of spiritual and bodily pains, because of our frailty, it is God's will that we know that he has not forgotten us. (307) For our courteous Lord does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously: for our falling does not hinder him in loving us. (245) Our Lord wants us to have true understanding, and especially in three things which belong to our prayer. The first is with whom and how our prayer originates. He reveals with whom when he says: I am the ground: and he reveals how by his goodness, because he says: First it is my will. As to the second, in what manner and how we should perform our prayers, that is that our will should be tuned, rejoicing, into the will of our Lord. And he means this when he says: I make you to wish it. As to the third; it is that we know the fruit and the end of our prayer, which is to be united and like to our Lord in all things. (250-251) II Simone Weil France Dear Simone, l write in gratitude for your essays touching on a wide range of experience: God's presence in our human condition, the plight of the worker, the meaning of affliction, the purpose of s~tudy, the struggle for justice, the future of political and economic systems. You speak from felt experience, keenly analyzing the causes and effects of human proclivities and aberrations. Provocative, inspiring, challeng-ing all, your reflections have touched many minds and hearts; your sensitive spirit has provided both theoretical and practical implications that continue to have impact on our times. Letters of Gratitude A trait that strikes me deeply is your candidness in addressing personal and collective issues. In regard to your spiritual life, you were drawn toward Catholi-cism but felt that you could not accept that stirring because in so doing you would remove yourself from large segments of the human family. While failing to see the logic of your conclusion, 1 respect your unwillingness to compromise, your com-mitment to principle. Your courage is impressive. Besides personal honesty in terms of your own life-style, you take on systems that oppress and exploit the fundamental rights of people. A deep sense of responsibility toward the common good and a powerful vision of human solidarity made you cry out wherever the dignity of people was threatened or.injured. Human respect did not paralyze you; you were willing to pay the price in your hunger and thirst for justice. A related but distinct theme is your profound insight into the philosophic patterns of means-end. The ultimate evil is to reverse the order of reality: turning means into ends (138). This principle explains so much of life. Other authors concur with your observation but from slightly different angles: C. $. Lewis warns of getting caught on Christianity (creeds, codes, cults) and' forgetting about Christ; he notes elsewhere how writers begin to focus more on how they say things rather than the truth which is the end of all discourse. Pope John Paul 11 speaks about techhology enslaving the person whenever humans fail to exercise their proper responsibility over the instruments that they have created. All in all, exploitation and manipulation are the consequences of failing to allow'the goal to govern the process. Such a failure fosters death, not life. By profession you did spend some time teaching. In writing about this most noble vocation you articulated a thesis that all study, by its very nature, is directed toward the love of God and is a preparation for that love. The inner dynamism of the process contains the power of contemplation, that human act of loving atten-tiveness that puts us into intimate contact with reality. All study is an exercisein attention; attention is a form of contemplation: contemplation is essentially a union with reality whose ultimate source is God. In faith we bglieve that all creation in some way manifests the Creator. Thus your thesis has a firm theologi-cal basis. Regardless of the discipline, be it anthropology, sociology or literature, attentiveness to the reality exposed by these studies is indirectly preparing the alert student to love of God. What joy this is for the faith-filled teacher; what a surprise to the atheist who unwittingly leads the searching student into the embrace of God. Shakespeare once wrote: "Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel." You worked in a factory and understood from experience many of the trials of human life. From the inside you struggled with need and pain, small joys and unhappy compensations. Choice, not necessity, drew you into this world. To the extent that you did not need to remain in the w~rld of wretches, possessing the necessary resources both intellectually and materially to exit at will, there was a tinge of unreality in such a choice. Not all the strings were cut. Regardless, you tasted the full range of boredom, anomie and meaninglessness that result from situations in which people are no longer dealt with as persons but are treated as objects or machines. It was from this posture that you prophetically demanded reform in 641~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 systems that impinged negatively on the hearts and dignity of people. Your words continue to challenge our generation, caught by a vast technological network that threatens our freedom and enslaves our spirits. A special influence in your life was a poem by George Herbert entitled "Love." While concentrating with great effort on the inner meaning of this distant, sensitive man's beautiful verse, you encountered the Lord. Drawn into the dialogue of the poem your heart was captured and held fast. The intimacy and indwelling articu-lated by HerbertAake us to the heart of faith: a deep personal relationship with God that provides a basis for discipleship. The struggle expressed between the invitation to be with God and one's sense of unworthiness, between resting in the Lord and being busy with one's duties and responsibilities, between allowing God to be God and trying to control the flow of lives--all these apparently were part of your existential experience. In a single short poem, crucial life issues were raised and given a resolution: to live in his presence. Eternal joy is contingent upon our individual responseto this challenge. The ways in which God touched your life were as many as the ways in which he used you to influence others. Your awareness of this sensitive process is de-scribed by the term "instrumentality." Through various persons, seen precisely as channels of grace, the Lord made his presence felt: Fr. Perrin acting as friend-counselor transmitted a sense of faith; Homer writing in The Iliad shared a scope of reality and human interaction that enriched your sense of meaning; close friends, intervening at key moments in your life, made visible divine love in word and deed. Having known the divine presence, you in turn shared, through your finely honed gifts, your interpretation of that experience. The Creator and creature in dynamic mutuality! St. Francis' prayer experienced and lived! All of us who have read your works know firsthand the power, meaning and joy of this instrumentality. Sincerely, R.F.M. Friendship Fear But the greatest blessing you have brought me is of another order. In gaining my friendship by your charity (which 1 have never met anything to equal), you have provided me with a source of the most compelling and pure inspiration that is to be found among human things. For nothing among human things has such power to keep our gaze fixed ever more intensely upon God, than friendship for the friends of God. (19) Everybody knows that really intimate conversation is only possible between two or three. As soon as there are six or seven, collective language begins to dominate. That is why it is a complete misinterpretation to apply to the Church the words "Wheresoever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Christ did not say two hundred, or fifty, or ten. He said two or three. He said precisely that he always forms the third in the intimacy of the tete-a-tete: (23) As always happens, mental confusion and passivity leave free scope to the imagination. On all hand~ one is obsessed by a representation of social life Letters of Gratitude Prayer Joy Presence Unhappiness Expression which, while differing considerably from one class to another, is always made up of m~,,steries, occult qualities, myths, idols and monsters; each one thinks that power resides mysteriously in one of the classes to which he has no access, because hardly anybody understands that it resides nowhere, so that the dominant feeling everywhere is that dizzy fear which is always brought about by loss of contact with reality. (37) The key to a Christian conception of studies is the realization that prayer consists of attention. It is the orientation of all the attention of which the soul is capable toward God. The quality of the attention counts for much in the quality of prayer. Warmth of heart cannot make up for it. (44) The intelligence can only be led by desire. For there to be desire, there must be pleasure and joy in the work. The intelligence only grows and bears fruit in joy. The joy of learning is as indispensable in study as breathing is in running. Where it is lacking there are no real students, but only poor caricatures of apprentices who, at the end of their apprenticeship, will not even have a trade. (48) Not only does the love of God have attention for its substance; the love of neighbor, which we know to be the same love, is made of this same substance. Those who are unhappy have no need for anything in this world but people capable of giving them their attention. The capacity to give one's attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing: it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle. Nearly all those who think they have this capacity do not possess it. Warmth of heart, impulsiveness, pity are not enough . The love of our neighbor in all its fullness simply means being able to say to him: ~What are you going through?". This way of looking is first of all attentive. The soul empties itself of all its own contents in order to receive into itself the being it is looking at, just as he is, in all his truth. (51) Nothing is more difficult to know than the nature of unhappiness: a residue of mystery will always cling to it. For, following the Greek proverb, it is dumb. To seize its exact shadings and causes presupposes an aptitude for inward analysis which is not characteristic of the unhappy. Even if that aptitude existed in this or that individual, unhappiness itself would balk such an activity of thought. Humiliation always has for its effect the crea-tion of forbidden zones where thought may not venture and which are shrouded by silence and illusion. When the unhappy complain, they almost always complain in superficial terms, without voicing the nature of their true discontent; moreover, in cases of profound and permanent unhappi-ness, a strongly developed sense of shame arrests all lamentation. Thus, every unhappy condition among men creates the silent zone alluded to, in which each is isolated as though on an island. Those who do escape from the island will not look back. The exceptions turn out almost always to be more apparent,than real. (64) No thought attains to its fullest existence unless it is incarnated in a human environment, and by environment I mean something open to the world around, something which is steeped in the surrounding society and is in contact with the whole of it, and not simply a closed circle of disciples Citations are reprinted with permission from the book The Sirnone Weil Reader. edited by George Panichas, © 1977. Published by David McKay Co., Inc. 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Silence Suffering Joy Instrumentality Idea Suffering Failings around a master. (84) The whole of space is filled, even though sounds can be heard, with a dense silence which is not an absence of sound but is a positive sound object of sensation; it is the secret world, the world of Love who holds us in his arms from the beginning. (87) I am convinced that affliction on the one hand, and on the other hand joy, when it is a complete and pure commitment to perfect beauty, are the only two keys which give entry to the realm of purity, where one can breathe: the home of the real. But each of them must be unmixed: the joy without a shadow of incompleteness, the affliction completely unconsoled. You understand me, of course. That divine love which one touches in the depth of affliction, like Christ's resurrection through crucifixion, that love which is the central core and intangible essence of joy, is not a consola-tion. It leaves pain completely intact . for anyone in affliction, evil can perhaps be defined as being everything that gives any consolation. (92-93) We know that joy is the sweetness of contact with the love of God, that affliction is the wound of this same contact when it is painful, and that only the contact matters, not the manner of it. (107) It is more suitable for some thoughts to come by direct inspiration; it is more suitable for others to be transmitted through some creature. God uses either way with his friends. It is well-known that no matter what thing, a donkey for instance, can be used as agent without making any difference. It pleases God perhaps to choose the most worthless objects for this purpose. I am obliged to tell myself these things so as not to be afraid of my own thoughts. (110) Now, everybody knows from his own experience how unusual it is for an abstract idea having a long-term utility to triumph over present pains, needs and desires. It must, however, do so in the matter of social existence, on pain of a regression to a primitive form of life. (150) ¯ . . for the understanding of human suffering is dependent upon justice, and love is its condition. (181) In private life also, each of us is always tempted to set his own failings to a certain extent, on one side. relegate them to some attic, invent some method of calculation ~hereby they turn out to be of no real consequence. To give way to this temptation is to ruin the soul; it is the one above all, that has to be conquered. (187) III Ralph Waldo Emerson New England Dear Mr. Emerson, I write in gratitude for the brilliant essays that have flown so freely from your generous pen. Few subjects escape your incisive gaze and contemplative spirit. Letters of Gratitude / 65"1 History, personalities, nature, culture, education, politics, religion have all elicited your comments and artistic revelation. Lecture halls in America and Europe still reecho with the sound of your voice; the mind and heart of many a transcendental-ist quiver with awe at your observations. Even the woods and hills of New England have never been the same since your vision of their very essence. The inward journey! If for no other reason than this, your writings challenge our achievement-oriented generation and activistic culture to reexamine its values and life-style. Prime time and energy must be budgeted for personal interior renewal. You model well for us here. Interiority was a way of life which you evidenced by the depth of your writing. Your words come from a source far beyond your own power; one can sense this in the tone of your discourse. Your contemplative stance presents a viable option for many of us desirous of a life-style radically different from the one offered by our culture. Another world that is not primarily concerned with productivity and external achievements is available to anyone who desires it. Your life makes present such a choice and, though fear of the interior life remains, your courageous entrance instills hope. "Self-Reliance" is a most powerful essay. You state that the divine spark resides in all of us and tends to be activated in sporadic moments. All have the potential in varying degress for genius--those with developed artistic skills express that genius in some visible-audible manner. My understanding of your meaning of self-reli-ance is not that we are called to some solitary, stoical, individualistic self-suffi-ciency; but rather, that we are motivated to get in touch with our deepest self, far beyond the superficial narrowness of our surface self and find therein a wealth that is wedded to the life force (what we call in theological terms, God). Such an analysis would imply that not to have self-reliance would be to cut oneself off from the source of existence. Your abhorrence of conformity and false consistency is well taken at this point. A failure to live from internalized values carries the price tag of no personal identity, a price paid by too many. Healthy and authentic self-reliance fosters true identity and its accompanying freedom. Initially, I struggled with your style--philosophic, at times highly abstract and tight. Profundity and clarity are seldom happily married because of the mysterious nature of reality. The closer one is to truth the more difficult becomes its expres-sion. Simplicity gets covered by human discourse. The mental challenge to reach beyond any style is well worth the effort. Your writings contain a spirit of deep tension between the individual and collective whole, between personal freedom and authoritarian structures, between self and institutions. You are clearly committed to the first value in each set, i.e., the individual, freedom and self. This seems so obvious that the advantages and importance of the common good are not given full weight, the necessity of some structures containing an authority is not fully appreciated, the role that a given institution can play in fostering life fails to be properly valued. Your own expe-rience of leaving the institutional ministry may have had much to do with your outlook. Perhaps the delicate balance between complementary sets of values can-not be maintained by a prophetic spirit such as yours. An implicit principle of 652 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 nature indicates that the development in one direction of our giftedness entails the underdeveloping of others. Such is reality. Thus the experience of your own genius would not allow outer pressures to thwart its expression. The negative and re-straining forces within institutional structures, the decisions of authority and the challenges of social concerns--all thirsting for precious time and energy--weighed so heavily in your judgment that their advantages had to be forfeited. Your piercing intellect cut through what is extraneous in human experience into its heart, the essence of things. In succinct, pithy phrases, you captured principles and patterns of universal significance, thus shedding light on complex experiences and bringing joy to the spirit which perceives but lacks words to articulate its insight. In a single essay many such phrases reside, awaiting discovery by the thirsting soul. For example, in "Compensation" we read: Nature hates monopolies and exceptions. There is a crack in every thing God has made. Fear is an instructor of great sagacity and the herald of all revolutions. Commit a crime, and the earth is made of glass. It is the nature of the soul to appreciate all things. How unfortunate that many have not stopped at your well of late. As a beneficiary of your life-giving water, ! express deep gratitude to you. Your legacy is vast and varied: intellectual excellence of the highest quality, challenging us to develop the rich potential of our minds; historical perspective promoting a contextual vision of life; critical analysis of incisive accuracy, drawing us out of naivete into a sense of healthy criticism; personal integrity as a key goal of growth, demanding that we be true to our own giftedness; enthusiastic living of life, abhorring stagnation and the living of others' scripts; literary expertise ranging from the classic prose to the most lyrical poetry, inviting us to revisit the verbal gems of distant ~pilgrims. These qualities have influenced many: Henry David Thoreau, Emily Dickinson, and countless others. The legacy has not been forgotten. Sincerely, R.F.M. Revelation Perspective We distinguish the announcements of the soul, its manifestations of its own nature, by the term Revelation. These are always attended by the emotion of the sublime. For this communication is an influx of the Divine mind into our mind. It is an ebb of the individual rivulet before the flowing surges of the sea of life. Every distinct apprehension of this central com-mandment agitates men with awe and delight. A thrill passes through all men at the reception of new truth, or at the performance of a great action, which comes out of the heart of nature. In these communications the power to see is not separated from the will to do, but the insight proceeds from obedience, and the obedience proceeds from a joyful perception. (269) The field cannot be well seen from within the field. The astronomer must Letters of Gratitude / 653 Hope Beauty Poet Words Beauty Wisdom Expectation Action Presence have his diameter of the earth's orbit as a base to find the parallax of any star. (285) But the man and woman of seventy assume to know a[[, they have outlived their hope, they renounce aspiration, accept the actual for the necessary and talk down to the young, Let them then become organs of the Holy Ghost; let them be lovers; let them behold truth: and their eyes are uplifted. their wrinkles smoothed, they are perfumed again with hope and power. (289) Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not. (309) Too feeble fall the impressions of nature on us to make us artists. Every touch should tbrill. Every man should be so much an artist that he could report in conversation what had befallen him. Yet, in our experience, the rays or appulses have sufficient force to arrive at the senses, but not enough to reach the quick and compel the reproduction to themselves in speech. The poet is the person in whom these powers are in balance, the man without impediment, who sees and handles that which others dream of, traverses the whole scale of experience, and is representative of man, in virtue of being the largest power to receive and to impart. (321) Words and deeds are quite indifferent modes of the divine energy. Words are also actions, and actions are a kind of words. (322) Wherever snow falls or water flows or birds fly, wherever day and night meet in twilight, wherever the blue heaven is hung by clouds or sown with stars, wherever are forms with transparent boundaries, wherever are outlets into celestial space, wherever is danger, and awe. and love--there is Beauty, plenteous as rain, shed for thee, and though thou shouldst walk the world over, thou shalt not be able to find a condition inopportune or ignoble. (341) To finish the moment, to find the journey's end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom. (350) I compared notes with one of my friends who expects everything of the universe and is disappointed when anything is less than the best, and I found that ! begin at the other extreme, expecting nothing, and am always full of thanks for moderate goods. (351) Therefore all just persons are satisfied with their own praise. They refuse to explain themselves, and are content that new actions should do them that office. They believe that we communicate without speech and above speech, and that no right action of ours is quite unaffecting to our friends, at whatever distance; for the influence of action is not to be measured by miles. (358) Why should 1 fret myself because a circumstance has occurred which hinders my presence where I was expected? If I am not at the meeting, my presence where 1 am should be as useful to the commonwealth of friend-ship and wisdom, as would be my presence in that place. I exert the same quality of power in all places. (358) Reprinted from The Selected Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson edited by Brooks Atkinson. Pub-lished by Random House, Inc. 654 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Truth Joy Life Renewal Faith Avarice Truth is the summit of being: justice is the application of it to affairs. (368) On the other part, rectitude is a perpetual victory, celebrated not by cries of joy but by serenity, which is joy fixed or habitual. (370) Life goes headlong. We chase some flying scheme, or we are hunted by some fear or command behind us. But if suddenly we encounter a friend, we pause: our heat and hurry look foolish enough: now pause, now posses-sion is required, and the power to swell the moment from the resources of the heart. The moment is all. in all noble relations. (378) The criticism and attack on institutions, which we have witnessed, has made one thing plain, that society gains nothing whilst a man, not himself renovated, attempts to renovate things around him: he has become tediously good in some particular but negligent or narrow in the rest; and hypocrisy and vanity are often the disgusting result. (455) The disease with which the human mind now labors is want of faith. (458) A canine appetite for knowledge was generated, which must still be fed but was never satisfied, and this knoffledge, not being directed on action, never took the character of substantial, humane truth, blessing those whom it entered. It gave the scholar certain powers of expression, the power of speech, the power of poetry, of literary art, but it did not bring him to peace or to beneficence. (459) Address: The Contemporary Spirituality Of the Monastic Lectio by Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Poverty, Time, Solitude: A Context for a Celibate Life-style Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Brother Wieczorek's ~Parables and Paradigms" appeared in the July/August issue. He resides presently at the Holy Spirit House of Studies; 4841 South Woodlawn Ave.; Chicago, IL 60615. Celibacy is a dimension of a religious way of life. To be understood, therefore, celibacy must be seen in the context of religious life. The meaning of celibacy arises out of its relationship with the complementary vows of poverty and obedience, as well as out of the significance of communal life, prayer, and basic Christian virtue. Seen out of the context of all these elements, celibacy suffers a deprivation and a distortion. From the outset, it is important to be reminded that celibacy is not simply an ethic. Taken out of its context, celibacy is often reduced to being a moral direc-tive-- a negative moral directive. Celibacy is much more than a set of specific sexual mores; it is an extension of Christian virtue, a continuation of it. The sexual demeanor proper to celibacy rests upon Christian virtues and values such as respect for human dignity, single-heartedness, the sacredness of human life, a deep appreciation for what friendship and love can be, compassion, selflessness, and service. A discussion of celibacy must begin here. Before a decision can be made about living celibately, the question must be considered: What does it mean to live a Christian way of life? Am I willing to live with the restraints and limitations imposed upon me, not by celibacy, but by basic Christian values? Only after a person is willing to try to understand, accept, and live a Christian way of life can the matter of celibacy be addressed. Without this prior realization and commitment, celibacy has no context, no depth of meaning, and is left to be nothing more than just another "Thou shalt not . To see at least some part of the richness and potential of celibacy, it must be 655 656 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 viewed as a dedication to poverty, a devotion of time, and a dependence upon solitude. Celibacy as a Dedication to Poverty The vow of celibacy stands nearest to the vow of poverty. Hence, it is an understanding of poverty that sheds the most light upon an understanding of celibacy. If poverty as a way of life cannot be embraced, neither can celibacy. Poverty is precisely a way of living. It is much more than not having the money to buy something .To be poor means to be without many of the everyday options and opportunities that people who are not poor have. To be poor means, among other things, to live in a constant situation of restriction and limitedness. A poor person has not the option of going to a movie or a ball game, of eating apple pie or cherry, of going to one restaurant rather than another, of wearing these shoes or those, this coat or that. Very often poor people do not have these options because they do not have the physical resources that allow for them. Yet despite being deprived of these "necessities" the poor can live happy and holy lives. The fact of poverty, the force of its physical reality, compels people who are poor to live according to needs and not simply wants. Poverty can "cleanse" us of the unnecessary. It can put us into a situation where we are able to more clearly distinguish between a need and a want. Poverty can liberate us from the bondage of wants, leaving us free to pursue our true needs, those things without which we cannot fully live a human life. Poverty can be humbling by forcing us to face our needs but it can also teach us that happiness lies not in having every want satisfied but in having our true needs satisfied. Seen in this light, poverty is the paradigm for celibacy. Celibacy is not simply a deprivation, it is a way of life. Therefore, it must be a way of relating. While we can be impoverished in some ways of expressing love, we can be rich in others. After all, intimacy does not depend upon sexual expression any more than a meaningful gift depends upon price. The very restrictedness of our expression can heighten the value of a poem or letter or a simple touch or smile. Celibacy, like poverty, can teach true gratitude for the beauty and preciousness of relationships. Celibacy has the potential to "cleanse" us of what is not essential and let us see what we truly need to both give and receive from people--the trust, the sharing, the dreaming. Celibacy does not demand that we repress our needs. Rather, it points them out in bolder relief and challenges us to distinguish between the frustration caused by the deprivation of needs and that caused by the depriva-tion of our wants. It sometimes requires just as much creativity to live celibately as it does to live in poverty. Do I have the grace to express myself creatively to others? If the limitedness of deliberate impoverishment can be willfully chosen and reason for gratitude in one's life still be found, if one can be satisfied to have needs fulfilled even if wants must go unsatisfied and yet remain appreciative and joyous, then perhaps such a person truly has the grace, the call to live celibately. A Context for a Celibate Life-style / 657 Such a call is a gift. It is the nature of gifts to be both given and received. Therefore, it is quite possible to refuse the gift of celibacy. One of the most common ways of refusing celibacy is by being filled with self-pity. It is not uncommon to hear celibates of all ages bemoan their celibacy the way an amputee bemoans the loss of a limb. Like some amputee victims, celibates can easily become lost in the conviction that they are only half human, that they are not whole. The way to overcome such feelings is not by trying to prove manliness or womanliness. Rather, the challenge is to find worth and dignity in who we are, in the deeper and more lasting qualities of humanness like compassion, the ability to listen, to laugh, to be grateful, to stand outside ourselves at the service of others. Our humanness depends upon our ability to love. That we love and are loved is a need. How we love and are loved is a want. Celibates live in the poverty of not having all their wants satisfied. Celibacy means distinguishing between needs and wants, accepting what cannot be. and finding satisfaction, thanksgiving, and peace in what is. Celibacy as a Devotion of Time One thing that poverty does provide in abundance is time. Being bereft of options does free up large amounts of time. Celibacy likewise provides an abundance of time. The challenge is how that time is to be spent, what our time is to be devoted to. Celibacy, for example, frees us from the time it takes to raise a family, but what does it free us for? Ideally, perhaps, we are freed for prayer, reading, study, even the opportunity to take time to see and wonder and dream. Celibacy also frees us to serve, to be available for people. Yet if all we do is remain available for work and devote little or no time to prayer and reading, we are distorting celibacy by removing it from a critical dimension of its context. A big danger for both celibates and non-celibates is that they give themselves more to their jobs than to God and their families or communities. It is this issue, the proper use of time, that causes one of the biggest consternations for celibates. The tendency toward entrenchment in work can be an escape from intimacy, but it is also true that many of the occupations engaged in by celibates are extremely time-consuming and energy draining. Moreover, it is work which simply must be done. The tension between giving time and taking iime is not lessened by the fact that most celibates do recognize the necessity for being present to community and for entering into solitude with God. A celibate life-style that does not allow for time not only to recreate but also to read and reflect cannot give life to the celibate. Such a life-style will consume that person instead. One of the challenges and disciplines of celibacy is the proper use of time. While celibacy ought to provide time, in practice it often does not. Here, too, celibacy shows a connection with poverty. The poor guard and dispense their resources carefully, So too with the celibate's dispensing of time. Workaholism is as much a threat to celibacy as sexual licentiousness--perhaps 6511 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 even more so. Our consciences are sensiiive to the issue of sexual restraint but not to making mistresses out of our work. Our culture emphasizes efficiency, produc-tivity, and frowns upon anything that hints of wasting time. Therefore, celibates who find even a little free time quickly and perhaps unconsciously fill it in by doing more. Yet celibacy as a life-style requires time to be set aside not for doing but for being. Time is a gift many celibates refuse to accept because in part they are afraid to take it. Time only makes the loneliness echo more loudly. Time takes away excuses. It confronts us, Yet time in a celibate life-style is essential, for it provides the panorama that enables us to see what we are to move toward. It gives us the opportunity to see and address our needs. Time must be part of every celibate's life, for without that time celibacy loses its context and the solitude that nourishes celibacy cannot be obtained. While celibacy ought to provide time, it is a commod-ity which so few celibates seem to have. Yet time is an essential resource for the celibate for it alone can acquire solitude for us. Celibacy as a Dependence Upon Solitude Celibacy cannot be endured, let alone lived, without the time to enter into solitude with God. Only by freely and gratefully embracing solitude can a person find life in celibacy. Solitude is not loneliness but aloneness, time apart to be alone with oneself and with one's God. Solitude for the celibate is essential for several reasons. Solitude teaches surrender. It strips away the illusion of wants. It is a confrontation with what is real. of what is essential, of what is true. Solitude teaches sight. In the stillness of solitude we see what we would ordinarily have overlooked, assumed, or taken for granted. Through solitude, we are taught to appreciate, admire, and wonder. Solitude teaches sensitivity. Compassion comes from seeing with another's eyes. Solitude makes one hungry to enter into another's life deeply, personally, respectfully, and ge~atly. But often celibates do not embrace solitude. Instead we try to fill in our time with possessions, work. television, and peripheral friendships. Yet it is essential that celibates in particular spend time in solitude so as to spend time with God. In sqlitude we take time to share in God's aloneness. It is in solitude that we can more deeply fall in love with God. If a celibate does not put an effort into being at peace with solitude, into making a friend of solitude, not only does God become a stranger, but we become strangers to ourselves, and celibacy becomes an empty taunt and an ache. Solitude is so important for celibacy because solitude is a quiet moment with God in the privacy and intimacy of one's own heart. Solitude is the backdrop for the silence we need to hear the Word of God. Solitude is the setting for prayer.It directs our life back to God. There is some-thing about solitude that draws us back to center. If we are afraid to spend time with ourselves in the aloneness of our center, we will not come to commune with the silent places of God. The prayer that comes from solitude is the celibate's life blood. Without prayer, celibacy will not. cannot, endure. Without solitude spent with God we become A Context for a Celibate Life-style / 659 strangers to him and so to prayer. Prayer may lead us out of a celibate life-style, but without prayer the apparent emptiness and futility will drive us out of it. Solitude, far from removing us from relationships, prepares us for them. In solitude we have the setting in which to know ourselves, to see ourselves truly, to hear ourselves honestly. To enter into solitude is to venture into the truth of ourselves--be that what it may. With that knowledge we are free to interact with people as persons. With a sense of our own depths we can move toward the depths of others and together with them enter in faith into the depths of God. Conclusion For a full understanding of what celibacy is, it is important that a person move beyond the initial frustration and unnaturalness of living a life of Christian virtues and enter into the discovery of the real mystery and beauty of celibacy. Celibacy centers around accepting solitude, welcoming time, and living in gratitude. It is such things as these that make celibacy seem unnatural. It is not acceptable or typical to be poor, to have time for oneself and for prayer, or to enter willingly into the solitude of one's own soul. To so many, the "unnaturalness" of celibacy is reduced to sexual denial, the deliberate refusal to marry and raise a family. Yet these are only peripheral issues. The seriousness of these issues, however, under-scores the deeper difficulty of celibate life. Celibacy is not only an orientation away from family and spouse (which is hard enough), it must be an orientation toward poverty, time, and solitude. Celibacy itself is neither the sacrifice nor the offering. What we do with celi-bacy is. The beauty and fulfillment in celibacy is found not in what it moves us away from but in what it compels us toward. To find peace and sanctity in celibacy, it is not so important what we purposely and deliberately deny. Rather, it is much more important what we willingly and lovingly embrace. The Celibacy Experience Stephen Rossetti In May, Stephen Rossetti, author of "Psychology and Spirituality: Distinction Without Separation" (July/August, 1981), was awarded his M.A. in Theology from Catholic University, where he plans to continue in the graduate program. His mailing address is: 26 Reed Pkwy., Marcellus, NY 1310g. He who remains in Zion and he that is left in Jerusalem Will be called holy (Is 4:3). Consecrated celibacy is in crisis. The resignation of priests, sisters and brothers, many of them highly respected members of the Church, is no secret. Fear ripples through the ranks of those who have remained, as their closest friends leave to get married. A painful self-analysis naturally follows: Do we really have to be celibate? Why am I the only one left? Will it happen to me? Is celibacy only a vestige of an outmoded spirituality? Why am I still left? Some say the crisis is waning. The Diocese of Buffalo recently reported that its loss of priests and sisters from 1976-81 was only 8.1% and 4.6% respectively, compared to 21.2% and ! 7% from 197 !-76.~ While it seems that fewer are leaving, there are still fewer left in the ranks to do the necessary tasks. It is questionable whether relief is in sight. The continuing decline in priestly vocations in the United States indicates that the crisis is still with us. This past year there has been yet another decline (8.8%) in the number of U.S. theology students studying for the priesthood. These are less than half of the number of the peak years of 1966-67.2 The exodus of priests and sisters is a mult: faceted problem which is more than ~John C. Given, "Buffalo Diocese: Fewer Priests, Nuns Leaving Religious Life," Syracuse Herald- Journal, 30 December 1981, p. A-3. 2"Seminary Enrollment Drops," National Catholic Register, 20 December 1981. 660 The Celibacy Experience / 661 just a crisis in celibacy. However. the internaliTation of celibacy must be seen as a key element in any discussion of the problem. In the first half of this article, i will raise the modern problems with celibacy and look at contemporary attempts to solve this crisis. In this first section, 1 will include such key issues as the essential relationship between mysticism and inter-nalized celibacy, the lack of support for young celibates, a critical look at current discussions about celibacy, and then the important issue of intimacy in a celibate life. In the second half, 1 will attempt to resolve the modern problems with celibacy by returning to the context of mysticism and positing an approach to the subject which is both existential and scriptural. Celibacy and Mysticism In The Psychology of Loving, Ignace Lepp says that the chastity of those consecrated to Christ must be "counterbalanced by a genuinely mystical life." If it is not, there is the risk of psychic damage: The libido cannot be channeled in a different direction without injury to sexuality unless it finds itself entirely consumed in the service of higher psychic activity? There must be, then, a necessary connection between celibacy and mysticism. In our use of the word here, "mysticism" does not refer to extraordinary phenome-na such as visions or locutions, nor does it refer to the highest states of union with God. Rather mysticism, here, means a "genuine though mediated experience of encounter and communication with the personal God."4 In this sense of mystical, the experience is direct and conscious, and it involves God as person. The experience is also mediated. The word mysticism derives from the Greek word mueo. which means to initiate (as into a "hidden" mystery). The mystery can be hidden under, or mediated by, any aspect of life. However, a preeminent place must be given to the classic Christian mediations--which include Scripture, prayer, tradition, and the sacraments--most of all the Eucharist. Hidden within our ordinary life experiences is the presence of Christ. The "mystical experience" is one in which this personal encounter becomes more and more conscious. This encounter becomes stronger as the years pass and celibacy is internalized. The mystical life allows the channeling of sexual and some emotional needs into "higher psychic activity" which results in a mature celibacy. On the other hand, if the mystical life is permitted to atrophy, then a mature celibacy, if not the entire celibate life, will suffer with it. William McNamara, in his latest work, Christian Mysticism: A Psychotheology, believes that the mystical life is indeed atrophying, despite some evidence to the contrary: Hgnace Lepp, The Ps.vchology of Loving. trans. Bernard B. Gilligan (New York: A Mentor Omega Book, 1963), p. 213. 4Karl Rahner, ed., Encyclopedia of Theology: 7he Concise Sacramentum Mundi (New York: A Crossroad Book, The Seabury Press, 1975), p. 1009. 662 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 It is obvious that we are presently witnessing a psychical revolution, one. in many respects. that has won the approval of science (biofeedback. body consciousness, metapsychiatry. neuroscience, paraphysics, etc.) and one that could, if properly guided, improve our human condition, and expand our human consciousness immeasurably. There is little evidence. however, that a spiritual-mystical renewal is going on. despite Vatican 11 and the subsequent changes in the Church.5 If McNamara is correct, celibacy will be lost. A truly internalized celibacy, that is, a mature celibacy, requires this mystical life. If celibacy does not become mystical, if it does not grow into a mystical vision, then "God's grace" alone will not uphold the celibate. Grace builds and makes possible an authentic Christian-mystical life; it is not a supernatural substitute for our humanity. Celibacy without mysticism may degenerate inlo mere asceticism, which would be ultimately self-destructive for lack of love. McNamara goes on to say that "man is naturally contemplative. But his mystical powers, left unexercised for so long, are seriously atrophied."6 This is a serious loss for all believers since it has a direct impact on the vitality of their faith and on the development of their full humanity. However, for the celibate in particular, this situation is fatal. With an atrophied mystical life, he is likely to reject celibacy for the sake of his "sanity": he will slowly die to ministry: or he will sublimate his sexual desires in non-productive ways. ls McNamara correct in saying that we have let our mystical powers atrophy and thus we have lost an internalized celibacy? The exodus of consecrated celibates points in that direction. At any rate, in the light of the past twenty years, we can slarely say that in the present state of crisis the depth of our commitment is being tested. In previous years it might have been possible to survive in celibacy by relying on secondary supports. Today it is just not possible. Within this crisis, celibates must develop a mature, internalized love of celibacy based first and fore'most on their own mystical vision and growing encounter with the risen Christ. The state of the Church and Western society makes this absolutely necessary. Little Support for Remaining in the Celibate State Our Western culture offers little support for celibacy. In fact, it is, in some ways, the most discouraging culture possible for a celibate. It ignores religion. Our culture is essentially a-Christian (without Christianity). It would be easier to main-tain a celibate commitment in a culture that is hostile to Christianity--as in the days of the early Christians. At least one could then take heart amidst persecution and 'join" on~self to a tightly knit community of brothers and sisters totally dedi-cated to Christ while fighting an obvious, common antagonist. But today's West-ern culture ignores religion and the celibate. Heroism is more difficult in the face of 5William McNamara, Christian Mysticism: A Psychotheology (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1981), p. 20. 61bid. p. 22. The Celibacy Experience disinterest than of hatred--and celibacy is a heroic life. It receives inspiration from a culture which applauds those who live it. And it flourishes when it is persecuted. But when it is ignored, it is most sorely tried. On a deeper level, however, it is not quite accurate to say that our culture is totally oblivious to Christianity. The words of the Gospel ring true: "He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters" (Lk 1 !:23). In the final analysis, it is not possible to be neutral to the message of Christ. In whatever form it is presented, explicitly or implicitly, the message of salvation will either be accepted or rejected. Our culture is no exception. Underneath its appar-ent unconcern with Christianity is a subtle barrage of counter-invitations. There are constant overt and subliminal innuendos that cannot fail to tug and tug at the Christian's sexual drives. Our society manifests a sort of cultural passive-aggressive behavior, one that seems tolerant of Christianity but is subtly waging war on its norms. Without Christ, our society loses touch with its deepest need for meaning. According to psychiatrist Viktor Frankl: What is behind the emphasis on sexual achievement and power, what is behind this will to sexual pleasure and happiness is again the frustrated will to meaning. Sexual libido only hypertrophies in an existential vacuum. The result is an inflation of sex . 7 This "inflation of sex" in our society sorely tests the strongest of celibates. The uncommitted are likely to be entrapped. Not only does our culture attack the value of celibacy, new Western attitudes also undermine previous supports for the celibate. There is a new attitude towards authority and tradition: a child-like obedience is not acceptable to the modern mind. As Victor Frankl says, "in contrast to man in former times, he is no longer told by traditions and values what he should do.'~ Likewise, those in the Church accept less and less the fact of canon law and magisterial teaching as being reason enough for remaining celibate. This changing attitude towards authority and tradi-tion is encouraged by the great upheavals within the post-Vatican II Church. The opportunities within such a freedom are great, yet there is also a concomitant increase of danger. Within such a freedom celibates are required to make their commitment their own, with little support from the culture or Church tradition. Concomitant with this rejection of authority and tradition, there is a shift in our concepts, theologies and spirituality. Words such as obedience, sacrifice, ascet-icism and sin are used less frequently. A new model has been substituted which 1 will call the "human growth" model of spirituality. This modern growth-model uses existential concepts such as freedom, human development, holistic growth, and personal responsibility. It understands development in the spiritual life as growth in love and intimacy. It stresses the importance of psychology, self-knowl- 7Viktor E. Frankl, The Unconscious God: Psychotherapy and Theology (New York: Simon and Schuster. 1975), pp. 85-86. ~ Slbid., p. 91. 6 ~4 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 edge, wholeness and all that is authentically human. This model is no doubt a positive, legitimate step in the progress toward a twentieth-century spirituality. It reacts strongly against a previous tendency to reject humanity in favor of some angelic spirituality. Nonetheless, the model has serious shortcomings, e.g., a failure to relate a mature, self-sacrificing obedience to human freedom. And with the transition from earlier models of spirituality to the human growth model, a problem has developed in our theology of celibacy. On the basis of this model it is not so easy to provide an understanding of a celibate life. Love, marriage, children are all an integral part of what it means to be fully human. Without the sharing of the deepest levels of intimacy, as between husband and wife, it would seem that the human growth of.a celibate must be stunted. Our former theology had several ways of dealing with this lack of full intimacy for celibates. For example, repeating an oft-cited idea on celibacy, the Council Fathers of Vatican I1 stated that celibate priests thereby evoke that mysterious marriage which was established by God and will be fully manifested in the future, and by which the Church has Christ as her only spouse.9 There is a theological truth in these and similar statements, but to the modern mind they seem to mean little. How can a "mysterious marriage" deepen my intimacy? To some it sounds like "magical grace." Such theological categories do not mesh with the modern mind which thinks in terms of intersubjectivity, inti-macy, personal self-gift, loving response, and the importance of concrete, interper-sonal relationships for spiritual growth and for ushering in the kingdom of love and peace. This change in mentality requires a change in theology as well. Some New Approaches to Celibacy In Sacrarnentum Mundi Leonhard Weber says: In the formation of priests and in their further development, many of the supports of celibacy which were hitherto relied on will fall away, having proved themselves unreal or erroneous. They must no longer be appealed to. In their place theologically valid arguments must be used, and new aids which correspond to present realities.~0 Many modern spiritual men and women have grappled with the absence of such new arguments. They generously tried to rework an outdated theology of celibacy to correspond to the needs of today--with limited success. For example, much energy is going into showing that one's sexuality is not stunted by celibacy. This is done by making a distinction between the terms genital and sexual. This is a redefinition of categories according to which the word "genital" is applied to what was usually meant by the word "sexual," and then "sexual" in its broadest sense is taken to mean maleness or femaleness. Thus, modern reflection can say that the celibate is still a fully sexual being--but without genital expression. And so a nun could have a close relationship with a priest, and call it a "sexual" relationship-- 9Walter M. Abbott, gen. ed., The Documents of Vatican.H (Chicago: Follett Pub. Co., 1966), p. 566. ~°Sacramentum Mundi.p. 183. The Celibacy Experience / 665 but denying to it "genital" expression. This definition rightly admits that the celibate is not a neuter being but always remains truly male or female. And so at least it should help to keep celibates from attempting to become sexless angels. But however true the first step, saying "a celibate is still male or female," may be, the next statement, "a celibate is fully sexual but not genital," conveys mean-ings and values that are not as evidently proper. The latter statement blurs the important distini:tion there must be between male-female friendship and male-female romantic intimacy. Just as a married man may have female friends, a nun and priest may indeed be friends. But they may not have a romantic intimacy-- even if they do not engage in "genital" activity.~ The distinction between genital and sexual may do more harm than good if it becomes a permission to cross the line of prudence in relations between celibate men and women. Using the excuse that "our relationship is not genital" stems from a legalistic approach to celibacy which in turn endangers true friendship. In addition, any short-term benefits of the principle will be overshadowed by the further fact that it will only justify the kind of obsession with sexuality that is already present in the Church and in society. To focus on the sexuality of the celibate, in fact, obscures the true nature of celibate witness--which should be to point to the primacy of God's kingdom over passing, though good, temporal values. A better approach would distinguish between intimacy and celibacy more strictly. Modern thought in this area is trying to show that the celibate has the same opportunity for intimacy as the married person. This has become especially important in the light of the 1972 NORC study that found that the American priest in general is an "emotionally underdeveloped adult." This has been cause for alarm in the contemporary spiritual milieu which so closely associates spiritual development with human development. What is often forgotten, however, is that the study pointed out that this makes the priest "much like his fellow citizens on the scale of psychological growth" since the average American male also tested out as emotionally underdeveloped.~2 Nevertheless, this new area of reflection, the relationship between intimacy and celibacy, is also having very beneficial results. Celibacy cannot be used as an excuse for refusing to enter into deep human relationships, relationships that are often painful yet necessary for any human growth. Celibacy cannot be seen as representing an excessively other-worldly piety that shuns human affections as unworthy of a spiritual life. The 1971 Synod of Bishops recognized the importance of such human relations in the life of a celibate when it recommended "human balance through well-ordered integration into the fabric of social relationships: fraternal association and companionship with other priests and with the bishop."~3 ~See Paul Conner, "Friendship Between Consecrated Men and Women?" Review for Religious. Vol. 40 (Sept-Oct 1981), pp. 645-659. I:Ernest E. Larkin and Gerard T. Broccolo. eds., Spiritual Renewal of the American Priesthood (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference. 1973), p. I. 666 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Pope Paul VI, in his letter, "Sacerdotalis Caelibatus, "likewise stressed the impor-tance of the celibate relations with the laity. In a moving section of his fatherly letter, Paul VI says: By their devoted and warm friendship [the laity] can be of great assistance to the Church's ministers since it is the laity . . . who are in a position, in many cases, to enlighten and encourage the priest . In this way the whole People of God will honor Christ. promising an assured reward to whoever in any way shows charity toward those whom he has sent (Mt 10:42).~4 In a similar way, the community of the individual religious must supply this same much-needed human warmth and intimacy. The 1980 Plenaria for the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes stated that the religious community is itself a theological reality, and object of contemplation., it is of its nature the place where the experfence of God should be able to, in a special way, come to fullness and be communicated to others?5 There is no excessive supernaturalism here. The celibate is a person firmly planted on the earth and relating with others in a shared community life. Thus, this modern movement in spirituality which ties celibacy to human intimacy can make a positive but limited contribution to a new theology of celibacy, as well as to the humanity of celibates. But, like the distinction between genital and sexual, this attempt to show that the celibate can be as fully intimate as his married counterpart is not totally convincing. The approach may confuse as much as it helps--as, indeed, I think it has done. There is a qualitative difference between the human intimacy possible in a marriage and the :human intimacy permissible for a.celibate. Paul VI commented on this type of love: "And love, when it is genuine, is total, exclusive, stable and lasting."~6 A human marriage, in its final perfection, is such a close bond that "they are no longer two but one flesh" (Mr 19:6). For the celibate this is not permitted. A marriage relationship, if fully realized, has an exclusivity and a totality of self-giv'- ing which is just not available to the celibate. Indeed, if a celibate were to have such an exclusive relationship with another person, regardless of whether it was genital or not, he hardly could be considered celibate. The great witness of centuries of consecrated celibates must lead us to conclude that another kind of ultimate depth of intimacy is possible for a celibate. But our theology has not yet completely uncovered the depths of this celibate intimacy. Communion Is More Than Communication As the pro.blem of celibacy and intimacy and of other celibate issues continues ~31971 Synod of Bishops, The Ministerial Priesthood; Justice in the World (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1972), p. 24. ~'~Pope Paul VI, Encyclical Letter on Priestly Celibacy--June 24, 1967 (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference), p. 39. ~S"The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life," L'Osservatore Rornano, 26 January 1981, p. 14. ~6Paul VI, Encyclical Letter, p. 1 I. The Celibacy Experience / 667 to be discussed, the debate on the relevance of celibacy in the modern Church continues. This debate often swings between "lyrical panegyrics and one-sidedly negative criticism."~7 Part of the conservative faction believes that the priest must be celibate. No doubt such a vision of Church and faith would be shaken without a celibate priesthood, despite the tradition of the East. Thus, this position clings to such external forms for security--a need which is especially intense during the post-Vatican II upheavals in the Church. Some of the liberals, on the other hand, blame celibacy for destroying the humanity of priests and sisters--a fact which may have validity in a few cases but which glosses over the dynamic witness of a long history of celibacy within the Church. For example, one priest told me that if he ever started to "die" in the ministry he would get out. This is precisely the image some have of the pre-Vatican II Church. In their eyes, it was a church that so stressed an other-worldly piety that it killed the humanity of its people. This section of the liberal faction traces our celibate theology back to Greek philosophi-cal dualism which is said to dismiss worldly values and exalt spiritual ones: others trace celibacy back to Old Testament law which stated that sexual acts made one ritually impure. There are other ways theologians have accounted for our previous tradition of celibacy. The obvious way out is to maintain one's humanity through human intimacy. Seeing the emotional deadness and brokenness of some of their predecessors, many stress the importance of human'growth for spiritual development. Thus, the stress today is on celibate intimacy and communication. And there is a significant attempt within our religious houses to develop a community intimacy, often with good results. Certainly this is a good thing and should be continued. However, is community enough? Does it answer the heart of the problem? We communicate with others to achieve intimacy and wholeness. At times there is an almost compulsive need to lay ourselves bare in a search to maintain or recover our humanity. Admittedly, a certain amount of this is healthy and necessary for any human life, especially a celibate life. This mutual sharing, this intermediate level of intimacy will indeed help our humanity and thus our spirituality. But it is not the final answer, and it is becoming apparent that it is not enough for an authentic celibacy. Of itself, it does not lead to a mature celibacy. Psychiatrist Conrad Baars (who died last October) also believed there is too much communication and not enough communion. In his basic work, Feeling and Healing Your Emotions, he says: Interestingly. wherever members of a community--religious, prayer group, covenant--use the term [affirmation] most freely and glibly, there seems to be the least amount of true affirma-tion. Such places depress one with their bustling activity--planned togetherness, meetings. expected modes of behavior and participation, carefully scheduled recreation, etc, There seems little opportunity for just being--even less for being different or for wanting to be alone. Underneath the new freedom of behavior is often a hidden agenda of new co~7l'ormism . The sign of "new heart living" is communion; yet. there is still too much cornmunication to ~TSacramenturn Mundi. p. 181. 6611 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 permit communion and authentic being.~s This sort of excessive communication places a burden on friendships that such relationships should not, cannot carry. We are sharing more and more to satisfy the deepest Iongings of our heart, but in the final analysis we are in danger of silencing these longings with a mass of words and superficialities. In fact, such an approach is contrary to real humanity. To share everything easily actually reveals a lack of intimacy. The work of psychiatrist Viktor Frankl shows the nature of true intimacy: The quality of intimacy so characteristic of love is no less characteristic of religion. It is intimate in two senses: it is intimum in the sense of innermost, and second, it is, like love. protected by shame. Genuine religiousness, for the sake of its own genuineness, hides from the public . The mistake is often made of confounding such shame with neurotic inhibition. Shame. however, is a perfectly natural attitude.~'~ It is not normal nor is it healthy to share the deepest intimacies of love, or of faith, in a casual or even friendly way. To keep such things private, except from the most intimate of soul friends, or from one's spiritual director, is a normal and healthy action. It is a sign of true intimacy. Such an attitude maintains the sanctity of the human person. To violate this sanctity is a grievous affair. This violation would ultimately impair the growth of intimacy by destroying some of the conditions necessary for its growth, such as respect for the human person and the need for individual solitude. During a 1978 lecture to the Unione Internazionale dei Superiori Generali, Henri Nouwen commented on this close link between solitude and intimacy: Solitude leads us to a new intimacy with each other and makes us see our common task precisely because in solitude we discover our true nature, our true self, our true identity. That knowledge of who we really are allows us to live and work in community3o It is precisely this depth of intimacy which is the sign of a mature celibate and it is this depth which should enliven and nourish all the other relations a celibate has, just as the intimacy of marriage should ground and nourish the other relations a spouse has. Is Optional Celibacy the Answer? Optional celibacy seems to be emerging as the moderate position in the Church. For pastoral reasons, and in order to recognize cultural diversity, its concession may be required. This change would be theologically easy, given our present understanding of celibacy as distinct from, and not essential to, Orders. But this distinction, though affirmed in modern times, does not take fully into ISConrad Baars. Feeling and Healing Your Emotions (Plainfield, N.J.: Logos International, 1979), p. 221. ~gFrankl, Unconscious God, pp. 47, 46. 2°Henri J. M. Nouwen, "Solitude and Community," lecture presented to the Unione Internazionale dei Superiori Generali, 4 April 1978. p. 20. The Cefibacy Experience account the reality of the place of celibacy in the Latin Church. With the rise of historical and existential theologies, we are coming to a fuller understanding of the place of the whole human person in our theologizing. Thus, while celibacy is only a canonical duty, it figures as an important element in our "collective memory," or our "story," or again, our western Catholic "identity." Concepts that are appearing in the new theology should make us more hesitant to favor optional celibacy too quickly. Celibacy is more than just a discipline. Rather, it has been woven into our history and thus into our collective memories. In the midst of a Church already suffering a severe identity crisis, the impact of optional celibacy on our "story" should be carefully considered. In addition, a case could be made that in no time of history is celibacy more necessary than today. At first glance the statement seems absurd, but when placed into the total context of the times, when one observes the signs of the times, it gains in its appearance of truth. As stated earlier, our people are under a sexual siege by advertisers, movies, TV and other elements of society. In an age when people are trying harder and harder to become liberated from Christian sexual mores, we are becoming more and more enslaved to sex. Such is precisely the nature of sin and evil. It promises the opposite of what it gives. Our society has promised sexual liberation and has produced just the opposite. The value of celibacy as a sign that shows the relative value (while not negating its intrinsic goodness) of sex is never more needed. Also, given the unity of all in the Mystical Body of Christ, it has likewise been never more important for a few to persevere in the struggle against sexual license in a heroic way for its spiritual aid to all people who are struggling with sexual difficulties within their own vocations. Paul speaks of this union of all in Christ when he says to the Corinthians: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy" (I Co 12:26). Nonetheless, the pressure is on the Vatican for optional celibacy. While such a compromise may be necessary, I doubt that it will truly alleviate the problem. (Perhaps rather than making celibacy optional, it would be more to the point for the Vatican to announce that marriage is mandatory for all priests and religious! Then when a select few would flee to the mountains and the deserts, there to listen more intently to the "still, small voice," and thus refuse to marry, these are the ones who should be ordained.) Compromise, while often necessary, can fall into tepid-ity, failing to see that, for the celibate, the Christian message is nothing if not radical. "I am Come to cast fire on the earth and what will 1 but that it be kindled" (Lk 12:49), or again, "But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth" (Rv 3:16). Without such a radical, total commitment, there is no deep intimacy--for the celibate as well as for the married person. Deepest Intimacy Is in Mystery This intimacy is completed only in the deepest levels of the person. This depth is beyond the spoken word; it is beyond verbal communication. It can only be 670 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 called mystery--a mystery which marvelously opens itself up in the communion of love. Thus the depths of intimacy are experienced as mystery, and as love, for both the celibate as well as the married person. This is the deepest level of personal growth and the truest level of self-knowledge. Some commentators on this deepest level of the person have cited the efforts of Nietzsche. They say that Nietzsche saw this great depth which he called "nothing-ness" and yet he was a courageous man to continue to face his "nothingness" and carry on bravely. This may be courage but it also may be a disguised fear--a fear to really experience this "nothingness" or depth of mystery. Nietzsche stood at the brink of the ocean of mystery and summoned the courage to remain there and look. The Christian is called to go one step further--to dive in! Viktor Frankl put forth a similar idea using the image of a summit surrounded by fog: On his way to find the ultimate meaning of life, the irreligious man, as it were, has not yet reached the highest peak, but rather has stopped at the next to highest . And what is the reason the irreligious man does not go further? It is because he does not want to lose the "firm ground under his feet." The true summit is barred from his vision: it is hidden in the fog. and he does not risk venturing into it, into this uncertainty. Only the religious man hazards it.2~ This depth, this "diving into the ocean" or "climbing through the fog to the highest peak" is open to a married couple united in faith. Such an unspoken depth to their relationship allows the mystery of one to be opened and joined to the mystery of the other, the ocean of one to the ocean of the other. This mystery therefore cannot be opened by the effort of one; it requires two to open it. Love requires union, and this deepest mystery is a union of love. At first glance, this would seem to exclude the celibate because the necessary love is, recalling the words of Paul VI, "total, exclusive, stable and lasting." This love seems denied the celibate who has no partner! Within such a quandary, our theology of celibacy is too often opaque, making little sense to the modern person. We could foist the problem onto "grace," and thus expect a solution from some magical power to hold our humanity in abeyance until the end-times. But this would be a denial of the real nature of the Christian message and a misunderstand-ing of the true nature of grace. Christianity is not essentially a negative religion. If it denies, it does so only to affirm in a more profound way. If God asks for any sacrifice, it is only to return the gift a hundred-fold. And, it seems to me, this is the problem with which modern thought on celibacy must deal--a problem that is especially difficult to solve if we use the growth model of spirituality. Celibacy and Theological Distancing To this point, we have merely opened up several problems in our theologies of celibacy. There seems to be a real difficulty in relating the depths of intimacy and celibacy, despite some modern attempts to do so. The older approaches with their 2~Frankl, Unconscious God. pp. 55-56. The Cefibacy Experience / 671 reliance on grace threaten to skip over our true humanity. What is perhaps lacking in both approaches, what may be largely responsible for the crisis in celibacy today, is a proper starting point. An accumulation of theologizing and reflection has developed an elaborate theological understanding of celibacy, but may have lost contact with its simple yet radical starting point. Paul Ricoeur's warning of cultural distancing may apply to our case: Cultural distance is not only the altering of the vehicle, but also the forgetting of the radical question conveyed by the language of another time. It is necessary to undertake, therefore, a struggle against the.forgetting of the question, that is. a struggle against our own alienation in relation to what operates in the question?2 We may, indeed, have forgotten the "radical question" which underlies the very existence of celibacy. This question must come as an existential question which demands a radical human response. The existential question involves an expe-rience that gives rise to the unusual phenomenon of celibacy. This experience I call the celibacy experience. Theological reflection can help make this experience understandable. It can explain its fruits and it can even help prepare someone for it. But theological reflection cannot impart the experience itself. Celibacy must spring from an expe-rience which begets a radical and total response. In the experience, a radical question is asked, and a radical answer must be given--though the response will have to grow in actualization with time. What we need is an existential model of celibacy, one that starts with human experience. This model must be able to address the concepts of intimacy and humanity in a convincing way. These concepts, though, can only be understood when viewed in the light of the beginning section of this article, when we wrote of mysticism, the internalization of celibacy, and higher psychic functions. An,"Existential Scriptural Approach To find such an existential approach, it is necessary to cut through centuries of cultural and theological distancing and return to Scripture. But our approach should not be to use Scripture. in the usual way of the conventional theologies of celibacy. In these approaches, citations are made of such Pauline passages as: The virgin--indeed any unmarried woman--is concerned with things of the Lord. in pursuit of holiness in body and spirit. The married woman, on the other hand, has the cares of this world to absorb her. , (I Co 7:34). Or again, To those not married and to widows, I have this to say: h would be well if they remain as they are. even as I do myself: but if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry (I Co 7:8-9). These and other such passages, though, are not the celibacy experience itself, a-'Paul Ricoeur, "The Language of Faith," in Charles Reagan and David Steward, eds. The Philosophy of Paul Ricoeur (Boston: Beacon Press, 1978), p. 224. 672 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 but only reflections on the experience. It is the mystical encounter with God in Christ that results in these inspired theological reflections. Paul's embrace of the life of consecrated celibacy stemmed primarily from his encounter with Christ. He refers to his own celibacy experience: Am I not free? Am I not an apostle? Have I not seen Jesus our Lord? And are you not my work in the Lord? (1 Co 9:1). To the community at Corinth, Paul claims a direct vision of Jesus which grounds his apostolate; it drives him almost compulsively: Yet preaching the gospel is not the subject of a boast; I am under compulsion and have no choice. 1 am ruined if I do not preach it! (I Co 9:16; see 2 Co 5:14). This experience of Paul was not really one experience, but many: "I must go on boasting, however useless it may be, and speak of visions and revelations" (2 Co 12:!). It is only in the light of such experiences that Paul's celibacy makes any sense. He saw everything else as being of secondary importance compared to his being "grasped by Christ" (Ph 3:i2). Paul says, even more forcefully, "1 have come to rate all as loss in the light of the surpassing knowledge of my Lord Jesus Christ" (Ph 3:8). And it is precisely in this light that Paul recommends celibacy as being a way to devote oneself fully to the things of the Lord--just as it was for him. The authority and very existence of his apostolate depended on these experiences, and they became such a driving force in his life that celibacy was a result of it. Traditional celibacy-literature also quotes a passage from the Gospel of Matthew: Some men are incapable of sexual activity from birth: some have been deliberately made so; and some there are who have freely renounced sex for the sake of God's reign. Let him accept this teaching who can (19:12). This teaching, which supplies the theory to Paul's practice, focuses on celibacy "for the sake of God's reign." Notice again that there is no attempt to show that one should be celibate because Christ was, or that celibacy reflects the marriage of Christ with the Church, or even that celibacy is good because one is more effective for ministry. These are all later theological reflections, no matter how true they may be. They do not ground anyone's celibacy. The),' are not the celibacy expe-rience. Rather, as the Matthean Gospel points out, marriage is renounced "for the sake of God's reign." The passage implies that there is a direct experience of the reign of God. Otherwise, it would be impossible to dedicate oneself to it. In fact, the reign of God became a direct reality in the lives of many of those early Christians, enough of a reality to cause them to renounce a fundamental of human life--marriage. This, then was a powerful experience. This in-breaking of the reign of God is an eschatological experience. It is an in-breaking of the eschaton, or last times, into people's lives. Paul's experience was also truly an eschatological one since in his vision he saw the risen Christ who is himself the Reign of God. This is precisely what a mystical experience is, although it can take many different forms. It is an in-breaking of the eschaton, the reign of The Celibacy Experience / 673 God, the risen Christ into people's lives. There is no mysticism without eschat-ology-- an eschatology that proclaims that the kingdom is already present among us, though in a hidden way. Eschatological Fervor And such an eschatological, mystical experience totally changes one's life. It creates such a powerful force and conversion that it can make one cry out, as it did with Paul, "I am ruined if 1 do not preach [the Gospel]." With this conversion comes a new vision--a mystical vision. This experience gives rise to an eschatolog-ical fervor which makes it easy to believe that the end is at hand. Such was often the case with the prophets who, upon experiencing the greatness of God, saw the depths to which God's creation had fallen, and they cried out for repentance, claiming that God's just punishment was near. In the book of Isaiah, for example, the prophet has a vision of the temple of the Lord. He is overwhelmed with the holiness and power of God while the seraphim cry out, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts. ! All the earth is filled with his glory!" (6:3). Isaiah immediately felt his own sinfulness in the face of such holiness: "Woe is me, I am doomed! For 1 am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips"(6:5), lsaiah's new vision of the holiness of God and the sinfulness of the people leads to his message of the imminent destruction of Israel by God: "lf there be still a tenth part in it, then this in turn shall be laid waste" (6:13). It was in this same eschatological fervor that Paul believed the kingdom of God to be an imminent reality: I tell you. brothers, the time is short. From now on those with wives should live as though they had none: those who weep should live as though they were not rejoicing: buyers should conduct themselves as though they owned nothing, and those who make use of the world as though they were not using it. for the world as we know it is passing away (I Co 7:29-3 I). This eschatological fervor was the result of Paul's experience of the risen Christ. This was a mystical experience which resulted in a new vision of life, a mystical vision. However, it is obvious to us, and even Paul came to understand, that the time is not short. Two thousand years have passed and Christ has still not come in his glory. But to take this approach, that is, to discount the fervor of the early Christians because their belief in the imminence of the second coming proved to be wrong, is to miss the significance of their times, and the truth of their experience. The early Christians experienced the reign of God breaking into their lives. They were baptized in the Spirit and such a baptism was at times a mystical experience which produced this eschatological fervor. As it is recorded in the Acts of the Apostles: The Holy Spirit came upon [the Gentiles]. just as it had upon us at the beginning. Then I remembered what the Lord had said: "John baptized with water but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit" II 1:15-16). They may have misinterpreted this mystical vision, this new perception of reality: they may have believed that Christ was coming soon. But this is often the case with intense mystical experiences. St. John of the Cross spoke of these 674 / Review for Religious. Sept.-Oct., 1982 dangers with extraordinary mystical experiences; they are often interpreted on too concrete a level, when they are intended for a higher, more spiritual plane. Perhaps this was the case with the early Christians. They experienced the closeness of Christ and his kingdom. The words of Jesus were passed along to them which pointed to his coming, and they may have interpreted such signs literally. Regardless of the reason for their mistaken view of the second coming, we should not dismiss their eschatological fervor because of it. This fervor is the proper response, just as it was for Amos: The lion roars who will not be afraid: the Lord God speaks who will not prophesy? (Am 3:8). It was this fervor that contained within it the phenomenon of celibacy. Without this experience, celibacy makes little sense. Later theological reflection can try to explain the celibate state, as Paul tried to do, but it cannot recreate the experience itself. But what happens when the fervor wears off'? Paul began to realize that he, too, might die before Christ comes again. The initial celibacy experience that gave rise to the fervor for the reign of God and caused the early Christians to renounce marriage can fade as the years wear on. What does the modern mistress of novices do with her charges once the initial fervor of vocation begins to wane, as it always does? It is then that moderns begin to wonder about their humanity. Will celibacy kill it? The earlier mystical vision fades, and the reality of celibacy as a loneliness without spouse, sex and family presses on the celibate. The stress on intimacy today makes it even more difficult, and there are plenty of TV shows and adver-tisements to remind the celibate of what he is missing. Celibate Intimacy With Christ This initial fervor must be followed by a desert experience, an absence of fervor, as mystical theology points out. But it is precisely within this period of dryness that the mystical vision is secretly growing. It is then that youthful fervor must yield to a new experience that reaches deeper into the person. This new experience is reflected best in the Gospel of John, "the disciple whom Jesus loved": A third time Jesus asked him, "Simon. son of John, do you love me?" Peter was hurt because he had asked a third time, "Do you love me?" So he said to him: "Lord, you know everything. You know well that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep" (21:17). In these spiritual reflections of John's Gospel do we see hinted at a deeper intimacy with Christ. The servant, and friend becomes lover and beloved. Thus we see introduced a new element: the love of Christ. The compulsion to preach is giving way to a deeper relationship with Christ, a relationship of love. The ground of Peter's ministry is this love of Christ. The early eschatological fervor has to give way to this intimate love of Christ, The Celibacy Experience / 675 and this is only possible because Jesus first offers his love. When he asks Peter if he loves him, iris implied that Jesus is first offering his love, and is asking if Peter will respond. Such is the existential approach of Scripture: God offers through Christ, and we must respond. Peter did respond, to the fullest extent. He had exclaimed to Jesus: "We have put aside everything to follow ~,ou!" To this Jesus replied: I give you my word, there is no one who has given up home, brothers or sisters, mother or father, children or property for me and for the gospel who will not receive in this present age a .,hundred times as many homes, brothers and sisters, mothers, children and property--and persecution besides--and in the age to come, everlasting life (Mk 10:28-30). This earlier response of youthful fervor should grow into a mature love. "Although you have never seen him, you love him" (1 P 1:8). Such an unseen love, then, is directly connected with faith. There can be no love of an unseen object unless faith prepares the way. It is the youthful fervor and the later desert expe-riences which produce a faith strong enough to support such a love. It is a faith offer and response of love. This does not make the offer and response, nor the love, any less real. The reign of God has come among us. Christ is still offering the love of God in a real though hidden way. The radical question which underlies the mature celibate experience is still being asked: "Do you love me?" This is real grace--not magical grace. God, in Christ, offering himself to the world--Person to person. Grace is the theological concept which denotes this real exchange within human history. If, as Paul VI said, there must be "a wise sublimation of the psychological life on a higher plane," it is because our sublimation and needs will be met within human history; God's kingdom has come!23 Though we cannot see the object of our exchange, this exchange is nonetheless real. Such is the nature of a faith-love. It is only within such a faith-love context that we can understand the true nature of celibate intimacy. In this offer and response with Christ, the celibate should eventually come to experience, either explicitly or implicitly, the deepest level of love and intimacy, recalling, the words of Paul VI: "Love, when it is genuine, is total, exclusive, stable and lasting." The mature celibate, the one who has internalized his call, has come to respond in this total and exclusive way to Christ. Such is the total self-gift in a marriage; such, too, is the total self-gift in the intimacy of the celibate. It is no accident, then, that later mystical theology came to describe such a relationship as a "spiritual marriage." It is a relationship~ which includes the deepest union. Yet this total and exclusive intimacy between the celibate and Christ does not exclude other relationships. In fact, it depends on other human relationships to make it possible. At the same time, celibate intimacy provides the possibility for the full fruition of these other relationships. However, one cannot completely identify one's intimacy with Christ, with the intimacy one has with others. And without a real intimacy with Christ, these other relationships tend to become 2~Paul VI, Encyclical Letter, p. 22. 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 warped, possessive and destructive. Such an intimacy grows out of the celibate experience. It is not something that is once and for all, but a chain of real encounters that renew and strengthen the individual's original response to the radical question, "Do you love me?" The original, novitiate, eschatological fervor is transformed and strengthened in the desert. Fervor is exchanged for love, and the compulsion to preach is exchanged for peace. The celibate experience is, then, a growing life-experience in and with Christ. It is not necessarily a "Mystical" (big "M") experience, some kind of extraordinary revelation--such as those of Paul who saw the face of Christ. Rather, the celibate experience is a "mystical" (small "m") experience. It is a direct encounter with Christ in which the radical question of love is asked, but it is an encounter that is hidden within the ordinary. McNamara sees that this immediacy of mysticism is nonetheless mediated: It is God whom mystical knowledge perceives immediately and experientially in the historic revelation of Christ~ the sacramental life, and the ecclesiastical organism. It is not contradic-tory to unite indissolubly the immediacy of mystical knowledge to all the Christian mediations.24 Thus the celibate in today's world must be a mystic but not necessarily a Mystic. This mystical relationship, of course, remains beyond words; it is beyond clear, verbal definitions. In it the mystery of God touches the mystery of the human person, and in this touch, the depths of the human person are opened, and he attains to a vision of reality that is mystical. Do You Love Me? It is this experience and the resulting vision which ground the celibate's aposto-late. The celibacy experience, which eventually grows into a total response to the radical question, "Do you love me?" provides the charter and gives life to his or her ministry. Without this growing intimacy with Christ, the celibate's ministry is without an anchor and will drift with every theological and psychological breeze that comes along. Again, McNamara has an excellent insight: People are fed and sustained by a mystical theology; they are amused and confused by any other. Yet they are being led thoughtlessly from one vogue to another. It's so tempting to be faddish, accommodating; to leave our solitary, silent stance before the source of wisdom and become washed out in the 'sauce~ of endless meetings, parties~ dialogues, lectures, conventions.2~ Without a mystical vision the celibate is unlikely to remain celibate for long. Any ministry without a mystical vision is liable only to "amuse and confuse" the people. The people thirst for Christ. It is the authentic Christ they need, yet the temptation is always to grasp false messiahs, even though with the best of inten- 2'~McNamara, Christian Mysticism, p. 16. ~lbid., p. 24. The Celibacy Experience / 677 tions. Mother Teresa wrote a note that said: "Pray for me that 1 do not loosen my grip on the hand of Jesus, even under the guise of ministering to the poor.''~6 Even such a great ministry as serving the poor can become a false messiah without an intimate relationship with Christ. The time has come for Catholic celibates to renew their primary identity as Christians. It is only in a life centered on Christ that true celibate intimacy is realized. It is only thus that liberals, conservatives and moderates can become what the Gospel calls for--radical lovers. And without a radical response to the love of Christ there is no mysticism, and thus no internalized celibacy. The way is not easy. Though the kingdom has already come into the world, it remains hidden. The eschaton is not fully realized in human history. A celibate's relationship with Christ will reflect this incompleteness during this life. Just as "all creation groans and is in agony even until now" (Rm 8:22), the celibate's life must also have many moments of groaning, and a longing for the final fulfillment of God's kingdom. The call of Christ is again sweeping the world: "Do you love me?" Fewer are left: fewer are responding. But there are enough. There is enough leaven for the entire lump of dough to rise. And for the remnant that is left: No more shall men call you ~For~ken," or your land "Desolate," But you shall be called "My Delight." and your land "Espoused.". As a young man marries a virgin, your Builder shall marry you: and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride so shall your God rejoice in you (Is 62:4-5). -'~'Phyllis Theroux. "'Amazing Grace: Mother Teresa Comes to Calcutta." Washhzgton Post Magazine, 18 October 1981. p. 30. Preparing for the 1983 Synod Stephen Tutas, S.M. In explaining his point in writing this article, Fr. Tutas states: "As a member of the 1980 Synod, I am well aware that the success of the General Assembly depends to a great extent on how well participants reflect the mind of the Church throughout the world." This article simply draws attention to the ~'neamenta published by the General Secretariate of the Synod. Father Tutas, Superior General of the Society of Mary (Marianists) 1971-1981, is presently Director of the Marianist Formation Center; P.O. Box AC; Cupertino, CA 95015. Immediately after the 1980 Synod of Bishops, preparation began for the 1983 Synod. After a lengthy process of consultation, Pope John Paul II designated "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church" as the theme for the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops which will be held in 1983. The General Secretariate of the Synod then prepared an initial presentation of the theme and sent this to the National Conferences of Bishops for their personal study. This first document is a fifty-four page study in the English edition pub-lished by the Vatican Polyglot Press this past January. The purpose of the docu-ment is "to stimulate reflection in the local churches, to receive information, advice and useful suggestions for the future synodal discussion; to provoke, as soon as possible, a movement of spirits and of prayer which disposes souls to the metanoia which is at the root of the synodal theme." For all these reasons it is very important for religious to take an active interest in the coming synod. It is interesting to note that the General Secretariate is encouraging wide consultation by stating that the publication of this first document "is without limits and not reserved." After analyzing the feedback from this first document, the General Secretariate will later issue a more extensive working paper. As religious we cannot afford to be passive as the preparation for the 1983 Synod moves forward. While the members of the synod have the responsibility of reflecting the mind of the Church throughout the world as they participate in the synod, the rest of us have the responsibility to study the theme of the synod as 678 Preparing for the 1983 Synod thoroughly as we can so that we can be well prepared to enter into the movement promoted by its celebration. Accordingly, in the hope of stimulating further reflection in preparation for the 1983 Synod, I would like to offer some thoughts about the theme that are prompt-ed by my personal study of the initial document. The theme of Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church was selected from among many topics suggested for the Sixth General Assembly. Towards the close of the 1980 Synod there was a brief.discussion about possible themes for the 1983 sessions. Among the issues mentioned at that time was the Sacrament of Penance. After further consultation, this particular theme was even-tually developed into the much more comprehensive topic that is outlined in this document issued by the General Secretariate. As presented, the theme touches many other topics that had also been proposed as possible themes, such as youth, the Christian laity, the identity of the Church following the changes effected by Vatican I1, the evaluation of liturgicalrenewal, popular piety, spirituality, Catholic education, the training of priests, the role of bishops in the Church, ecclesiology, the future. The study of Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church can also be viewed in relation to previous synods--especially justice in the world, evangelization in the modern world and catechetics, and of course, it has many implications for the mission of the Christian family in the modern world. The theme echoes many of the concerns expressed in pontifical documents of recent years. Among these, it is significant to recall Pope Paul VI's statement for the World Day of Peace, 1975: "Reconciliation, the Way to PeAce." The synod study is also related to the encyclical letter of Pope John Paul II, "On the Mercy of God" that was published shortly after the last synod. What I find especially attractive about the coming synod is that it is being ¯ presented as a development of the great themes of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World. Throughout the synoddocument there are remind-ers that this topic is not to be considered solely in terms of baptized Catholics, but that it is a topic of great importance "for all who seek meaning to existence." This theme is of great importance for the quality of the Christian life; it is also meaning-ful for the world in general. I found the intent of the initial document to speak a message of hope to the modern world very heartening. There is no denial of the injustice in the world today and in the hearts of so many people. The section describing this is particu-larly well expressed. The document speaks of the reality of today's world in contrast to our understanding of God's plan for us and our own response to this plan in our efforts to build a better world. Given the wars, violence, terrorism of our time, the conclusion is that the dominant characteristic of our era seems to have become that of tensions and divisions. It would be quite easy to give in to the feelings of helplessness in the face of the complexity of the problems facing us today. But it is quite clear from the document that the great expectation is that the synod itself will speak a message of hope to the Church and to the world. 61~1~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Much of the theme deals with the basic human need for personal reconciliation with God, with each other, and with ourselves. But what impressed me above all was the emphasis given to the promotion of justice and peace in the world through the call to reconciliation and penance. The document suggests that the synod face the complex reality of tensions and divisions in the world today with confiderlce that there is an answer. We Christians cannot lose hope. In recognizing that the Church is the sacrament of reconciliation, the Church has a new understanding of its pastoral mission in the modern world. 1 am also intrigued by the proposed study of the meaning of change in our lives. The word penance used in the synod document is meant to include the meaning of repentance, understood as conversion. The synod topic offers us an opportunity to focus on the change of mind and heart that Vatican II called for, and on the continual change to which we are called as Christians. The appeal to conversion understood as a change of direction, return, practical change in the way of living, interior change of mentality, metanoia, is clearly and forcefully pre-sented. The Church is seen as "holy and formed of sinners," holy, but always in need of being purified, incessantly pursuing the path of penance and renewal. The message of hope that Christians are called to proclaim in today's world is God's love for his people. It is God who forgives and liberates in order to reconcile all men and women to himself, with each other, with all creation. The dream of a new creation is once again proclaimed, a new creation where there is interior unity and true liberty, where there is a new relationship with other men and women, a new human community founded on justice, a new sense of God living and working in history. The General Secretariate of the Synod, in publishing this first document in preparation for the 1983 Synod, insists that the statements made are "provisional in character and limited and thus it would be useless to make a critique of them or to attempt to perfect the text." But it is an invaluable starting point for all of us as we prepare for the 1983 Synod. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions--II Patricia Spillane, M.S. C Our last issue carried the first part of this article. In the current issue, Sister Patricia concludes her study of the process of internalization. Sh'e continues to reside at the convent of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart: 428 St. James Place: Chicago; IL 60614. ~n Part I of this article, we considered how to live more authentically the life we proclaim: i.e., how can our constitutions be planted deep within us, written on our hearts (see Jr 3 !:33)? We reflected on our attitudes toward these constitutions, and on ourselves as the source of attitudinal decisions--spiritually, philosophically, psychologically. If nothing else, by now we should have arrived at an appreciation for the complexity of the problem: that arriving at a true internalization of what is written calls indeed for foundations of rock, and that much labor and struggle are required to build over that! Everyone who comes to me and listens to my words and acts on them., is like the man who, when he built his house, dug, and dug deep, and laid the foundations on rock: when the river was in flood, it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built (Lk 6:47-49). In the following pages, I will try to indicate some directions which could aid in this foundation-setting for interiorization within religious communities. Of their nature, such foundations are conceptual and theoretical, the underpinnings from which must proceed programs of action once the principles have been clarified. Such foundations need to reflect adequately our reality, a reality that is at one and the same time spiritual, anthropological and psychological. Efforts at internaliza-tion will be hampered without such an integration. Premises already exist in each of these areas since Christianity has been propos-ing such principles for centuries. Respective constitutions incorporate these and give them a unique flavor. 681 61~2 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 But we each have our own concepts of, and attitudes toward theology, philo-sophy and psychology, both conscious and unconscious. We need to examine our own assumptions in these areas to see how they contrast with what we are called to. Furthermore, with clear premises and principles we can better grasp still further implications: where do we go from here? We can move more securely from the theoretical to the concrete, both individually and collectively, without haphazard experimentation and without facile reaching for faddist solutions. A. Theological Foundations The very word foundation conjures up something solid, firm, lasting, not the ephemeral, fantastic, passing. It is obvious that any theological foundation for the internalization of Christian living must have indeed "Christ Jesus himself for its main cornerstone" (Ep 2:20), the Christ of revelation and of the gospels, as pro-claimed by the Church. What is needed is a theology that integrates both the transcendent and the incarnational, both vertical and horizontal dimensions, both interior life and exterior action. Consequently, we are talking about a Christologi-cal, ecclesial foundation of objective, revealed values that are both normative and attractive, values that can propose objective and inspiring criteria with which we can collectively and individually evaluate and challenge ourselves. Our vision of God must begin with the God of revelation and Scripture, as authentically reflected to us down through the ages by the Church and sacred tradition. Equally essential to this theological vision is its concept of our humanity called to a unique relationship with our Creator as the peak of creation, elevated to unimaginable new possibilities in Christ, yet withal vulnerable and capable of betraying our Creator and Savior. Called to respond, we are still" free to say "no." Therefore, the triplet of grace, sin and concupiscence can never be overlooked (more will be said along this line in the anthropological section below). Such a theology will see the spiritual life as the arena of interaction between nature and grace, the call to personal and enduring transcendence in the name of Christ that begins with baptism and reaches its fulfillment in the Beatific Vision. Such free cooperation with grace is at one and the same time the highest activity to which we are called, that which makes us most truly human and that which ultimately brings us true self-fulfillment as a result of our self-transcendence. However, we do not incarnate such principles in a vacuum. We live in a world of increasing theological pluralism, of the rapid dissemination and impassioned defense of new ideologies--in short, in a world of theological ferment where discernment, critical thinking, and a clear vision of the fundamentals are more essential than ever. As Christians and religious, we must be able to sift and see in what way our, theological thinking may have been infiltrated by certain current trends which can bias and distort the foundation for our attitudinal decision. Discerning Theological ,Trends A group of Christian theologians (including Avery Dulles, S.J.) from nine denominations engaged themselves in precisely this kind of sifting a few years ago From Tablet to Heart in Hartford, Connecticut, resulting in the clarification and designation of thirteen pervasive ideas which they considered to be "false and debilitating."t 1 have grouped some of these into three areas so that it will be apparent how an ade-quately integrated theological foundation implies a counter-cultural stance that is in opposition to each of them. I. Religious language refers to human experience and nothing else, God being humanity's noblest creation . Jesus can only be understoo~l in terms of contemporary models of humanity . An emphasis on God's transcendence is at least a hindrance to, and perhaps incompatible with, Christian social concern and action. Here is clearly seen the polarization of a theology of the supernatural with the theology of secular humanism. According to the latter, "man and world have in themselves an ultimate value'~--a prime example of Frankl's objec!ification of persons and subjectification of values mentioned in Part 1, with the result that we must become our own source of meaning, and evaluate ourselves by subjective criteria. This subjectivism, in turn, gives rise to experientialism: lacking objective guidelines, we can only use our emotions to ratify our experience. God's existence is inferred from subjective religious experience. That which should be effect becomes, instead, the cause of belief and the fountainhead of religion. Von Bal-thazar's comments are appropriate here: It is not that man has to have an experience of God: it is more that God