Suchergebnisse

The global financial crisis severely affected economies in Eastern Europe and Central Asia (ECA). Currencies depreciated across the region. Government tax revenues declined sharply leading to high budget deficits and rising levels of public debt. Tightening credit supply and deteriorating financial conditions have limited the ability to borrow in the public and private sector. The financial crisis slowed demand enough to delay an imminent energy shortage by a few years. In this sense, the financial crisis bought ECA countries some time. This report analyzes the impacts of the global financial crisis on power sectors in five countries in the ECA region: Armenia, Kyrgyz Republic, Romania, Serbia and Ukraine. It estimates the investment gap and proposes a prioritization of critical investments in each country. The report also proposes actions needed to mobilize financing for the sector, including a continued commitment to legal, regulatory and policy reform in the sector. The global financial crisis has created a window of opportunity to meet investment needs and avert a potential power shortage, but Governments need to recognize and act on this opportunity. This report serves as a starting point to facilitate further World Bank engagement in the region that can help Governments make timely, critical investments and foster sustainable investment in the sector over the long-term.

Issue 34.5 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous ts edited by faculty members of the School of DIvlmty of St Louts University, the edttorlal ol~ces bemg located at 612 Humboldt Buddmg, 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. S!ngle copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming .to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former ad~ciress. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Galicn, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1975 Volume 34 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. / ;" ~: :°~Vith these ,words Po o ~t only for Jesmts,~but-~f6r all~rehg~ous;~ )s wh6, .in ~varyingways, ~dentff, y:.o. 671 A Survey of the Thirty-second General Congregation John R. Sheets, S.J. Fr. Sheets, chairman of the theology department of Creighton University and director of its new Masters Degree in Christian Spirituality program, was an elected delegate of his province (Wisconsin) at the 32nd General Congregation. He resides at Creighton University; 2500 Califor-nia St.; Omaha, NB 68178. The Thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus began on December 2, 1974. It finished its work on March 7, 1975. The Holy See authorized the promulgation of its decrees on May 2, 1975. In this article I will attempt to set down in an intelligible way a description of what went on during those ninety-six days, especially for (hose who are not Jesuits but who are in-terested in the congregation. Having gone over once again both the official documents and the Acta of the congregation, and having tried to recapture.my own experience over those days, I feel keenly the limitations of what follows. In the first place, it is difficult to give a survey of the vast amount of material covered by the various commissions;-secondly, it is hard to detail my own ex-perience without writing an autobiography; thirdly, it would take someone with both a sense of historical detail and a journalistic flair to present the in-terplay that took place among the various identifiable groups within the con-gregation, and also what took place between the Vatican and the congregation. In spite of these reservations, I hope that the observations that follow might provide some insight into what happened, and at the same time provide a counterweight to impressions given to the public through the general press. For me personally the congregation was the peak experience of my life. I am still trying to sort out the reasons for this. There is the obvious fact of hav-ing been part of a decision-making body whose decrees could have momentous importance for the Societ), of Jesus and for the Church at a very critical mo- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 673 ment in history. Again there was the experience of being "companions in the Lord" with two hundred and thirty-six other Jesuits from all over the world, united in the same Ignatian vision, sharing a common purpose, praying and working together to formulate with the help of the Holy Spirit responses to what the Church and the world ask of the Society today. The "honeymoon experience" of the first days gave way, as the weeks went on, to the .experience of fatigue, the perplexities of the search for the proper wording, the experience of working on disparate problems at the same time, without any clear point of convergence. Added to these was the experience of the interaction between the Vatican and the congregation which brought with it great anguish. However, it was also perhaps the experience that changed the congregation from a group of planners relying much on our own wisdom into something approximating an instrument of the Holy Spirit. The whole experience of the congregation in many ways paralleled what a person goes through in making the Spiritual Exercises, where one is subject to the movement of different spirits. On the one hand, it was the occasion of the greatest consolation; on the other, 1 have never in my life experienced such heaviness of heart. There were moments when one could almost feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, particularly at the concelebrated liturgies where one was drawn into the mystery of the communio jesuitarum, both the living and the dead, ~hrough our sharing in the Eucharist. Certainly the con-celebrated Mass, celebrated on the opening day of the congregatiofi in the Gesu, a church hallowed by the memories of Ignatius, Xavier and the early history of the Society, with seven hundred Jesuits participating, was one such moving experience. But if there were consolations, there were also periods of desolation, the worst desolation I have ever experienced. These came from the pall of uncer-tainty cast over the congregation from the communications of the Holy Father through Cardinal Villot in reference to the way the congregation had proceeded on a particular point concerning the Fourth Vow in the Society. This was also the occasion for the Holy Father to remark with pain that he detected from the Acta of the congregation attitudes among the delegates which were at variance with the kind of disposition a Jesuit should have toward the Pope. To be frank, however, it was not so much the interventions of the Holy Father that depressed me. In fact, as events would show, he was under the im-pression that we had received a specific communication on the subject that he had given to one of the delegates to be transmitted to us. But because of a mis-understanding the delegate did not in fact communicate it, and the congrega-tion learned about it only after we had taken a step which seemed to con-travene directly the explicit instruction of the Holy Father. To me the tone of his and Cardinal Villot's letter, while severe, was comprehensible in the light of this misunderstanding on the communication of their earlier message. What was far more upsetting was the sudden change in the mental climate of the congregation. Somewhere Kierkegaard mentions that the sudden is the 1574 / Review for, Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 category of the demonic. In the course of only minutes, the demon of rumor, suspicion and recrimination was let loose. Suddenly it all fitted into a kind of master plot to discredit Fr. Arrupe, bring about his resignation, and bring to nothing the efforts of the congregation. No one knew who the enemies were, but some gave the impression that there was one hiding behind every column in the Vatican. Among the memories which will always be with me are the occasions when I used to walk in St. Peter's Square at night, when it was deserted, except for a police car and a few pa~sers-by. The majestic beauty of the facade of St. Peter's, bathed by the light of the moon, the beauty of the fountains flashing in the lights, the Vatican apartments with a light here and there, formed a setting of peace which seemed to overflow into me, particularly when events occurred which plunged the congregation into gloom. Looking back over those difficult periods I am certain that if it were not for the example and leadership of Fr. Arrupe we would have lost courage. He transmitted to us both by word and example a sense of the working of God's providence and the life-through-death process in which we were engaged. We were faced with the humbling and humiliating fact that we experts who were supposed to discern the signs of the times could not discern a sign that was much closer to us. In many ways the misunderstandings did not "have to be," when one looks at them from a human point of view. The reports from the press about con-frontation, maneuver and counter-maneuver were the product of journalistic imagination. The sad fact is that pain was caused by people who were trying their utmost to act with responsibility to the Holy Father and to the Society. But I have probably got ahead of myself. All I wanted to do in these in-troductory remarks was to point out that for me personally the experience of those three months led by the diverse paths of joy and anguish to a deeper ex-perience of the ways of God, that "If Yahweh does not build the house, in vain the masons toil." The Procedure Followed in the Business of the Congregation In preparation for this congregation there had been four years of highly organized participation on the level of the local communities and the provinces. The extent of this participation varied. In general, however, it had a beneficial result in creating the awareness that this congregation would grow out of the discernment that took place on the local level rather than work from the top down. Perhaps some might consider that this was a waste of time and money when we measure the results of those years of preparation, and the little impact that it had directly on the congregation. However, the minimal result of this preparation was that at least we did not come into the work of the congregation cold, but had some awareness of the problems that confront us, as there were seen by a large segment of the Society. For those who are not familiar with the structure of the Society of Jesus, a few words of explanation may be helpful. In the Society of Jesus the supreme A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 675 authority is vested in the General Congregation. It does not meet at regular in-tervals, but only on two occasions, either to elect a new superior general, or to face a particular state of affairs which can be handled only by the highest authority of the Society. Of the thirty-two congregations that have met in the four hundred and thirty-five years of the Society's history, all except seven have been called to elect a new superior general. When, therefore, in 1970 Fr. Arrupe decided to call a General Congregation to convene after appropriate preparation, he felt that the state of the Society needed to be reviewed. It was an opportune time, since ten years would have elapsed since Vatican II and our last congregation. Delegates to a General Congregation are basically of two kinds: the provincial superiors, who attend by right of office, who make up ap-proximately one-third of the membership of a congregation and the other two-thirds who are elected. The only delegates who were unable to attend the 32nd General Congregation were a few from behind the Iron Curtain. Their unoc-cupied desks remained an ever-present symbol to the assembly of the oppres-sion of the Church in various areas. In spite of these absences, there were two hundred thirty-six delegates present. In the Society of Jesus the agenda is made up after the congregation con-venes. It is based mainly on the postulates (requests) submitted either from in-dividual Jesuits or provinces. Contrary to what one might suspect, there is probably no more democratic legislative group than is to be found in the General Congregation. Any Jesuit can send in postulates either through his province or directly, as an individual to the General Congregation. All of these are considered on their merits independently of their source. Over one thousand postulates were submitted. After a preliminary analysis, it was seen that they could be organized according to ten categories. Ten commissions were set up roughly corresponding to these ten categories. Initially the commissions had a membership of about twenty-five each, com-posed of representatives from different parts of the Society. Later, for the sake of efficiency in composing the documents emerging from the commissions, the number was reduced to four or five. The amount of work that went into the final draft of the documents was enormous. The work of the commission would be submitted to the whole assembly, receive revisions (or even be re-jected), be returned to the commission; then again be submitted to the assembly, with a repetition of the same procedm:e, until the assembly was satisfied with it. The whole assembly convened in a large hall that had been especially renovated for the congregation. Electronic equipment was installed to provide simultaneous translation. Voting was done by means of a small switch at each desk. In the front of the hall in full view of all the delegates was a large elec-tronic board, with indicator lights arranged accordihg to the seating plan in the hail. This board registered the votes with a green light if affirmative or a red, if negative. At the top of the board was a place where the total affirmative and negative vote would register immediately after the vote was taken. All ~'~' ~ ~.~. 676;~ R~i~.w for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 voting~'~bhe exception," was public. The exception came at the request of the congregatiori ~hen it came to vote on the question of grades in the Society. Doubtless this pr0ce.dure was intended to provide the general with the oppor-tunity to vote in a way that would not compromise him in whatever future ac-tions he would have to take.as a result of the vote. The Main Themes Seventeen documents issued from the congregation, most of them originating from the ten commissions which had been established. Other documents came from special commissions appointed as the need arose. Though the documents differ in content, some common themes run throughout. Perhaps the main theme reflected in the documents is that of mission. Related to this is a reawakened awareness of the Society as a whole, of which the local communities are part. The Society, while it exists also for the sanc-tification of its members, takes its special meaning from its apostolic orienta-tion. This apostolic orientation is specified by its relationship to the Holy See, particularly through the Fourth Vow, and in its service to the Church through the promotion and defense of the faith. A characteristic of this apostolic orienta-tion is adaptability to the needs of particular times and places. In our day this involves an overriding concern to overcome the injustices which oppress so many millions of people. However, in all of its apostolic work, the goal and the means it uses are to be consistent with the tradition of the Society as set forth in its Formula of the Institute which sets forth its fundamental pontifical law. This ties in with the identity of the Society, a theme that is both the subject of one particular document and one that runs through all of the others as well. The Society is a priestly, apostolic body, bound to the Holy See in a special way for the defense and promotion of the faith. The sense of mission involves not only working with those who are op-pressed but it also involves becoming identified with them as far as this is possible. Our poverty, therefore, which has its juridical as well as evangelical aspects, takes on a particular experiential mode in so far as, by it, we can iden-tify with the poor. The decree that has to do with union of hearts and minds is also intimately related to the nature of the Society as an apostolic body. Ignatius clearly saw that the Society's apostolate depended first of all on the union of the members with God, and then derivatively on their union with one another. One theme which is conspicuous is that of repentence. The Society acknowledges that it has failed in recent years to live up to those characteristics which were suppose to distinguish it, such as obedience, loyalty to the Holy See, fidelity tO the principles of the religious life. The State of the Society One of the commissions set up early in the order of business was the one charged to examine the state of the Society. Its purpose was to form some A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 677 kind of an evaluation of the condition of the Jesuit order at this point in its history, assessing both its weaknesses and its strengths. To provide this com-mission with input, the delegates met in small groups over a period of several days. These small groups were of two kinds: what were called "assistancy groups" (for example, all of the American Jesuits belong to one "assistancy," the French to another, etc.), and "language groups," composed of people from different countries who had some facility in their own and other languages (German-English, French-English, Spanish-French, etc.) These groups dis-cussed the state of the Society in reference to key points such as formation of Jesuits, religious observance, the apostolate. These sessions broadened the practical knowledge each of us had of the Society and helped to create among us an awareness of community. They were also informative, first of all in bringing us to realize that many of the problems were common, with varying degrees of acuteness, while others were peculiar to a particular section of the Society. A criticism which many of us in the western world resonated with came from one of the German provincials in my group when he said that the image that the Society in Germany gives is that of B~rgerlichkeit, which in English connotes a comfortable, gentlemanly, middle-class existence. On the other hand, the situation of the Jesuits from behind the Iron Cur-tain, some of whom were also in my language group, has spared them some of the enervating effects of secularization. For one reason, their apostolate, where they are able to exercise it, is mostly pastoral work; secondly, their precarious existence serves to keep their faith at a high level of vitality. The delegates from the Third World countries brought other emphases. From the Spanish speaking countries there was a strong orientation toward social change, bringing with it problems of political involvement and the degree to which such involvement could subscribe to an ideology which often had Marxist overtones. In other regions, such as Africa, Indonesia and the Far East, one of the main problems is "inculturation," embodying the faith and the spirit of the Society in forms peculiar to their own cultures. As part of this evaluation on the state of the Society, Fr. General himself gave a picture of the way he sees the Society at the present, as a body which is very much alive, but with certain illnesses. He also gave a detailed description of his own relationship with the Holy See and the other officials in the Vatican, providing afterwards an opportunity for the delegates to question or discuss any of the points he had brought up. The document on the state of the Society which came out as a result of all this exchange is not one of the papers published to the Society. It was intended only for the delegates and their work in the congregation itself. However, the document is not in fact that useful. Its main value was in providing the oppor-tunity for the delegates to familiarize,themselves with the state of the Society through their live exchanges with one another. A document of this kind by its nature remains general, and gives little sense of the extent and import of either the positive or negative points. 671~ / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 The Work of the Commissions As was mentioned above, ten commissions were formed, more or less along the lines of the categories of material received in the postulates. While a few others later came into being and some of the original ones were changed, these ten commissions formed pretty much the working base of the Congrega-tion. Risking over-simplification, they could be divided into those which looked mainly inward, for example, about our "grades," the Fourth Vow, for-mation, final incorporation into the Society (final vows), central government, the constitution of provincial and general congregations; those which looked outward, namely, the mission of the Society today, inculturation, the service of the Society to the Church; and finally those which look both inward and outward, for example, on union of hearts, the Jesuit today. Some comments on a few of the documents might contribute to a better understanding of them. 1. The Mission of the Society Today The decree which took up the lion's share of the time, and which provided the platform for most of the rhetoric was the one that dealt with the mission of the Society today. The very nature of the topic explains why it took so long to come up with a satisfactory formulation. It involves an articulation that had to bring together the old and the new: fidelity to the essentials of the Society's apostolic nature, and coming to grips with the needs of today. While such a formulation has its own difficulties, the problem was exacer-bated by an initially one-sided approach and by the impression that some gave of using language more appropriate to political parties than to a religious group attempting to clarify its mission. The initial approach was largely horizontal, too much concentrated on the socio-economic aspects, with too lit-tle of the priestly. In the effort to make the congregation conscious of the urgency of these problems there was a tendency to absolutize what was in fact only one aspect of the Society's apostolate. One of the observations offered by Cardinal Villot in the letter in which he com-municated the Pope's authorization to promulgate the work of the congregation pertains to this decree. He stresses an important point, which is already present in the decree, but which deserves emphasis, namely, that the total work of evangelization has a comprehen-sion that cannot be reduced to working for social justice, and secondly that there is a priestly way of working for social justice that is distinct from the proper role of the laity. No one can judge from the final document how much work went into it. If one were tothink of a carpenter shop filled with shavings, and one tiny cabinet to show for the work, the comparison would be apt. The final decree, though somewhat diffuse, manages to relate the fundamental apostolic orientation of the Jesuit life as a priestly order to the promotion of faith which in the real-life situation is inseparable from the promotion of justice. 2. Poverty The. subject of poverty has continued to bedevil our recent congregations. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation ] 679 As everyone knows, there are two main aspects to what is called religious poverty: the juridical and the evangelicalwor the personal appropriation of the values of evangelical poverty. The decree on poverty, probably the most im-portant document to come out of the congregation, has two parts, the first be-ing more inspirational and exhortatory, while the second is juridical, setting down a basic reform in the structures of our institutional practice of poverty. It is not possible to enter into the technicalities of the juridical part of the decree since it presupposes some knowledge of the structure of the Society. Suffice it to say that the decree formulates what is, to my mind, a creative way of realizing for our own times the Ignatian ideal of poverty, taking into con-sideration the different socio-economic conditions of the twentieth and six-teenth centuries. On the personal side, frugality, the sense of being part of the kenotic mystery of Christ, dependence on the community, and identification with the poor are stressed. in his letter, Cardinal Villot makes two points concerning this decree. After commenting on the fact that the Holy Father was aware of the immense amount of work that had gone into this decree, which attempts to relate the traditional practice of poverty in the Society to the needs of our times, he says that considering the newness of the approach, it would be better to promulgate the decree ad experimentum, to be reviewed in the next General Congregation. He also cautions that the decree should not jeopardize the Society's traditional approach to gratuity of ministries. 3. Grades and the Fourth Vow No other subject discussed by the congregation received as much attention from the press as that of our "grades" and the Fourth Vow. As I remarked above, the delegates had proceeded in a spirit of obedience to the Holy Father's wishes, but in the spirit of Ignatian obedience which allows represen-tation of one's case to the superior, with full openness, however, to the final decision of the superior. But, as I mentioned above, the delegates were not aware of an important communication from the Holy Father which he had given to one of the officials manifesting his mind clearly on the topic. We were made aware of this special communication only after we had proceeded in good faith to take up the question, and to give an "indicative" votewone that is not definitive, but from which it is possible to infer the mind of the delegates. The indicative vote was overwhelmingly in favor of abolishing grades. One can imagine the consternation of the Holy Father when he read of the results of this in the Acta, a copy of which he received regularly, especially when he learned that we had not been given his specific directive on this matter which had been communicated to one of the officials of the congregation. This unfortunate series of events precipitated a strong response from the Vatican. First there was a letter from Cardinal Villot in the name of the Holy Father expressing his consternation at the proceedings. Later there was a letter from the Holy Father himself, tin which he expressed his wonderment, pain, disappointment. What the delegates found particularly difficult to understand in Cardinal Viilot's letter was the strong language used about the failure of Fr. Arrupe to exercise the proper kind of leadership that could have headed off this series of unfortunate events. I~1~0 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 While the delegates were still reeling from this unexpected turn of events, they learned of the directive that had been given by Cardinal Villot to one of the officials to be given to the congregation. The official explained before the whole congregation that he had not understood that he was supposed to transmit this directive to the delegates in any official way. This was a costly mistake. Yet in some ways I think it was a felix culpa because of the benefits which came out of it, as I shall comment below. At this point I should say something about the meaning of the grades and the Fourth Vow for those unfamiliar with the Society's structure and legisla-tion. When the idea of the Society was evolving in the mind and experience of Ignatius, one of the features that emerged was a conception of having membership in the Society on different levels, or "grades." For those with their final vows, there were to be three levels or grades. First of all, there are the "solemnly professed," with solemn vows of poverty, chastity, obedience, and a Fourth Vow of special obedience to the Holy Father in regard to mis-sions, that is, apostolic commissions. In the past one hundred years about 40% of Jesuit priests have belonged to this grade. In the mind of Ignatius the professed were supposed to exemplify to a special degree what he looked for in every Jesuit, proficiency in learning, a high degree of virtue, mobility, a life supported only by free-will offerings, exemplifying in their lives a similar relationship to the Vicar of Christ that the disciples showed toward Christ Himself. In addition, key positions in government were reserved to the professed, such as the office of provincial. Again, only the professed could take part in a General Congregation. In the second place, there were priests whose final vows were simple, not solemn. Without going into detail on the differences between solemn and sim-ple vows, it is sufficient to remark here that for one thing they differ accord-ing to the seriousness of the reasons needed for dispensation. This grade is that of "spiritual coadjutor." Members of this grade do not take the vow of special obedience to the Holy Father. In the third place, there are "temporal coadjutors" or brothers. Their final vows are also simple vows of poverty, chast.ity, and obedience. They have the same apostolic purpose as the priests, but have a different way of contributing to the realization of it. The grades are a feature that are peculiar to the Society. As one would sur-mise, the distinction has not been an unmixed blessing in the history of the Society. Though Ignatius never conceived of a Society which would have privileged and unprivileged castes, human nature being what it is, the results were predictable. Since human nature associates power with authority, the professed came to be considered as a kind of first-class type of Jesuit, and the non-professed as second-class. In recent years there has been much historical research on the origin of the ~grades. Also there has been considerable discussion whether the distinction of ~the grades was inextricably tied up with the vision of St. Ignatius, or whether it was something that with the change of times no longer served a purpose. The A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Thirty-first General Congregation did not face the question head-on. It con-tented itself with broadening the norms by which a person could be admitted to profession. It also transmitted the final solution of the problem to the Thirty-second General Congregation. The intervention of the Holy Father did not directly concern grades. He limited himself to the question of the Fourth Vow, which he said could not be extended to non-priests. This intimates that the Holy Father was concerned not simply about a juridical division in the Society which could be changed by another law, but about a theological question concerning the relationship between the priestly identity of those who take the Fourth Vow and the mis-sions which are the direct object of the vow. Again (I am speculating) the intervention of the Holy Father might be a healthy reminder in this age of blurring all distinctions for the sake of dubious notions of equality, that differentiation in functions does not necessarily mean division. Reserving the Fourth Vow to priests helps to keep the priestly focus of the apostolic work of the Society which has characterized it from the begin-ning. This need not create first- and second-class citizens, but it could engender an awareness that there are different gifts within the same body by which the same goal is realized. 4. The Union of Hearts A commission without a name was set up as a kind of catchall to handle four topics that on the surface had little unity: the question of union and pluralism, communal discernment, religious life, and community life. Since I was a member of this commission from beginning to end, I feel more in touch with it than with the other commissions. It was a kind of a "Benjamin" com-mission compared with those set up to handle the "important" topics like mis-sion, grades, poverty, etc. Ironically, Benjamin was suddenly given an importance late in the con-gregation. The Holy Father in his intervention had commented on the fact that he had heard a lot about mission and justice, but little about renewal of the religious life, even though we had already been at it for two months. So all of a sudden the pressure was on to come up with something significant along those lines. The final document on union of hearts is a contemporary commentary, on Chapter One of Part VIII of our Constitutions, "Aids Toward the Uniori of Hearts." Under this heading the commission found a focus which could unite the various topics given to it. Much effort was spent in an attempt to formulate a clear statement on the subject of union and pluralism. Many of the postulates asked for such a state-ment, some of them stressing the harm coming from internal divisions, others emphasizing the need for a "healthy pluralism." Eventually the commission decided that a theoretical statement would not be helpful. Instead it for-mulated, along with principles on which union of hearts is based, certain prac-tical directives on prayer, community life, sacraments, and communal discern-ment. 682 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 The subject of communal discernment received a lot of discussion. Some wanted to turn it into a kind of Aladdin's lamp which could call forth some kind of a jinni. Others were more skeptical over the possibility of univer-salizing the practicableness of such a process. The final statement in the docu-ment attempts to locate communal discernment within the spectrum of various kinds of spiritual exchange within a community, not exaggerating its role, but on the other hand recognizing the value that it has when the right dispositions and circumstances are present. Incidentally about midway through the congregation, an ad hoc commis-sion was also established to see whether the congregation itself could not carry on its work through a method of communal discernment. After a couple of meetings, it dissolved, because it felt that proceeding according to a formal method of communal discernment was impractical for the congregation because of the large numbers involved and the wide range of subjects on the agenda. 5. The Jesuit Today In the light of the diversity that has appeared in Jesuit life over the past ten years, it was felt necessary to have a statement which would describe the meaning of being Jesuit today. The congregation was presented with five different papers, each of which approached the subject of Jesuit identity from different points of view. They opted for the one which now appears among the official decrees. The decree relates Jesuit identity today in a very simple way to our Igna-tian tradition, to our apostolic mission, and to the source, center, and goal of Jesuit life, which is the imitation of Christ. The Holy See and the General Congregation We have already commented on the intervention of the Holy See in regard to the subject of extending the Fourth Vow to non-priests. However, this is only an application of something which is much broader. The interest of the Holy See in this congregation is unparalleled in the whole history of the Society. Perhaps this comes from the fact that Pope Paul had a keen sense of its importance for the Society and for the Church itself. I have just finished once again going over the papal documents, beginning with the letter written to Fr. Arrupe on September 15, 1973, which the Holy Father wrote after Fr. General had announced the convening of the General Congregation, and concluding with the covering letter which was added to the approbation of the decrees. There is one theme running through all of these communications: the necessity of being faithful to the distinctive nature of the Society as it is expressed in the Formula of the Institute, a distinctiveness which has proved its fruitfulness over hundreds of years of experience. Specifically, the Society is described time and time again as a priestly apostolic order, with a special bond of obedience to the Holy See. There is, to be sure, a stress on the need to adapt to the needs of our times, but such adap- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation I 683 tation must always maintain the essentials as these are to be found in the For-mula. 1 Pope Paul wrote of his concern for the Society not only as the Vicar of Christ who has responsibility for the whole Church, but in terms which, unless I am mistaken, are unprecedented in the history of this relationship between the Society and the Holy See. He speaks of himself as the one who has the chief responsibility for the preservation of the Formula of the Institute, "supremus 'Formulae Instituti' fideiussor," and the chief protector and preserver of the Formula, "Formulae Instituti supremus tutor ac custos." It would not be true to say that all of the delegates responded with un-qualified enthusiasm to the interventions of the Holy Father. Though all recognized his right in abstracto to intervene, a~nd the corresponding attitude of obedience to which we were obliged and, which all gave without contesta-tion, nevertheless when the interventions came in this particular way, with these particular words and in this particular timing, there were signs of ruffled feelings. In case anyone needed reminding, we learned in the process that the delegates as a whole, while good and responsible men, are not yet ready for canonization. However, we did see in an exemplary way the incarnation of Jesuit obedience in at least one person, Fr. Arrupe. This was not something he did just "to give good example." His whole life has been so totalized by his faith that even his perceptions pick up the reality beneath the appearance. He senses the presence of the Vicar of Christ beneath the appearance of Pope Paul. The concern of the Holy Father shown in so many ways over the past few years and in a special way through his vigilance over the activities of the con-gregation are to my way of thinking a special grace for the Society. In a way that we never planned on, the interventions of the Holy Father brought us to a level of faith we would not have reached by ourselves. It also brought us to a realization that the Society is a servant of the Church. In some small way the history of this congregation parallels the description of Peter's death, about whom our Lord said, "You will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go" (Jn 21:18). Father Arrupe I have already mentioned that if it were not for Fr. Arrupe's example and leadership the congregation would have capsized under the difficulties it ran into. He constantly called us to a vision we needed in order to see what was happening from a supernatural point of view, and in order to avoid the traps of tNot many Jesuits are aware either of the content or the importance of the Formula of the Institute. Yet, even more than the Constitutions, it is the basic rule or fundamental code of legisla-tion in the Society. It contains the results of the deliberations of Ignatius and his companions in 1539 which provided the first sketch of the Institute of the Society of Jesus. It was first approved by Paul Iil in 1540, then again by Julius 111 in 1550 in a slightly revised form. 684 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 self-pity or recrimination that were only too present. Like one of th~ prophets, he reminded us to see what was happening as coming from the hand of God, and to use it for our own purification and conversion. In a talk given to the delegates on the second day of the congregation, he spoke of the answer that we had to give to the needs of our times. It should be the foolishness of the cross by which Christ redeemed the world, which is the wisdom of God. "In the absolute foolishness of the Cross, the emptying of all things, we find the key to the ultimate solution to the problems of today." In a way we did not foresee, those words were prophetic. Again, he exercised his leadership by leaving the congregation free to follow the paths where its deliberations would take it. In its authority, the General Congregation is superior to the general. Fr. Arrupe always acted with full awareness of this fact. On occasion he would let the delegates know how he felt about certain things, not to pressure them, but in order to make this part of the input of their deliberations. The congregation showed its appreciation of his leadership over the past ten year,s in many ways. There are few who have had to pilot a ship through such a stormy period. The burden has not been easy. But there is always evi-dent in him the same buoyancy and infectious joy that somehow puts him in touch with the Stillpoint that is beyond, above, beneath the storm. Yet, while realizing his outstanding qualities, the delegates did not apotheosize Fr. Arrupe. They realized that with all of his gifts there were also limitations. In fact, the decree which set up a council for the general was framed mainly to supply the kind of help which might balance out the one-sidedness of some of his gifts. Differences Between This Congregation and the Previous Ones The Thirty-second (2ongregati0n had many characteristics which made it very different from any preceding General Congregation. Some of the more important ones might be the following. As was mentioned above, there was a four-year period of preparation for this congregation which was unprecedented. Similarly a few months before the actual opening day a special preparatory commission met to organize the material. This was the first General Congregation where, from the start, traditional rules of secrecy were lifted, except for the prohibition against making public either the names of delegates who spoke on the different questions, or the tally of the votes. Five Jesuit journalists were given free access to the meetings. They published a report about every week that kept the Society informed of the progress of affairs. In this Congregation for the first time the voices of the Third World were not only heard in larger numbers, but they showed a vitality that added zest to the meetings. However, even among these voices there were different accents. All of them were keenly aware of the injustices which oppress their peoples by reason of the exploitation of the capitalistic countries. However, the Spanish- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 685 speaking delegates tended to stress political and social involvement; the Africans continually reminded us of the need for the sense of the transcendent, the specifically God-and-Christ-centered nature of our apostolate; and those from the Far East, while keeping these same perspectives, also stressed the need for approaches that were directed both toward personal conversion and change of the structures. No other congregation has met at a period when there has been such a crisis in vocations. Over the past ten years, the Society has diminished from about 36,000 to 30,000 members. While in some places the number of novices has begun to pick up again, the overall picture remains dim. In 1965 there were 1902 novices compared to 705 in 1974. In the United States there are about 200 novices, showing a slight increase over the past few years. In some coun-tries, however, the picture is dismal. Spain, for example, had 269 novices in 1965. In 1974 it had only 30. Germany had 114 in 1965. At present it has about 30. Similar figures could be given for France, Belgium, Holland, Italy. When one compares the number of scholastics presently in their training with the number of priests engaged in apostolic work, there is only one scholastic for every five priests. This will seriously change the scope of our apostolic work over the next fifty years. Another unique factor was the everpresent concern of the Holy See in regard to the preparation for the congregation, the things taken up, and the final results, as I have mentioned above. The theme was repeated over and over again: be faithful to yourselves, especially to your identity as it is ex-pressed in your Formula of the Institute. The only specific feature which was singled out in the expressions of this concern was fidelity to the lgnatian idea of the Fourth Vow, both positively in the fact that it should be a vital factor in the life of the Society, and negatively in that it should not be extended to non-priests. Again, the fact of asking the congregation to submit its decrees to the Holy See for its approval before they were promulgated was unprecedented. The approbation was given with, in some instances, a few qualifications. Another characteristic which distinguishes this congregation from begin-ning to end and is evident in the decrees is thee theme of repentance. There is a mea culpa, mea maxima culpa evident in the Introductory Decree, the Decree on Mission, on The Jesuit Today, as well as in others. The Society is painfully conscious of its failings over the past ten years. Particularly in contrast to the Thirty-first Congregation, with its stress on freedom, subsidiarity and conscience, this one stressed the complementary features of the limits of pluralism, the need for norms that are applicable for Jesuit life as a whole, the responsibility of superiors for a greater firmness in governing, the importance of the manifestation of conscience both for the spiritual direction of the individual, and the good of the apostolate, the value of communal discernment when the proper conditions are realized. This congregation, unlike others, had a unifying theme throughout: the mission of the Society today. This did not happen because it was planned. There was a kind of unconscious dynamic at work which imperceptibly gave 686 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 this orientation to the various decrees. The consciousness of mission, if fully appropriated in all of its richness, could do much to revivify the Society, over-coming in the first place a great deal of individualism and self-will, and bring-ing about a greater sense of the living presence of Christ sending through His Church, and through superiors. In the actual procedure of the congregation there were unique features arising from the sharing that took place in smaller groups. One of the most im-portant parts of our daily life was the concelebrated Mass which was celebrated according to the different language groupings. Finally this congregation is probably distinctive in the fact that a little over half of the delegates were under forty-nine years old (122 out of the 236). Strengths and Weaknesses of the Congregation Like all meetings of this kind there are both strengths and weaknesses to be found. I could not resist the temptation to say that one of the strengths was un-doubtedly sheer psychological tenacity to "keep at it" for over three months when everyone was exhausted both from the work itself and the emotional strain. But the main strength of the congregation is the sense of solidarity manifest among the delegates and throughout the Society, a solidarity coming from a vision based on faith and brought into an Ignatian focus through the Spiritual Exercises and our Jesuit tradition. However, I think that there are also some deficiences evident in the work and structure of the congregation. Some way has to be found to expedite the carrying out of business. Though it was an attempt to get the input from the whole Society, on balance, the analysis of the postulates took up too much time. And questions of order consumed interminable hours. In regard to particular questions, in retrospect, it might have been a serious mistake not to have separated in some way the question of the Fourth Vow from that of grades. While they are related, they are distinct. And the interven-tion of the Holy See was concerned with the Fourth Vow, and not directly with grades. Again the expression given to the relationship of the Society to the Holy Father is "safe," but it creates the impression of one who is driving a car with one foot on the accelerator and the other on the brake. It does not seem to ex-press the 61an of Jesuit spirituality in its fullness. One reason for this inade-quacy stems from the fact that the congregation came to the topic only in the last few days before it ended, and the members did not have the mental energy or the time to do justice to it. Another difficulty is in the formulation itself. Attempts to combine both the unreserved expression of the spirit of loyalty and the juridical aspect of limits tend to cancel one another out. For example, there were numerous attempts, all sterile, to speak of "mission" in relationship to "doctrine," wherein loyalty would be unreserved in regard to mission, but conditioned in regard to doctrine. Consequently the resulting statement is bland, not nuanced. This will probably be one of the main topics that will have to be taken up at the next General Congregation. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Another deficiency is the fact that the congregation treated those problems which are more obvious because they have a certain shrillness--the problem, for example, of global injustice. Just as important, however, but without the volume being turned up, are questions touching man and technology, par-ticularly the genetic manipulation of man. Again, these questions will probably have to be faced by the next congregation. What to Hope For If the Society as a whole could translate what is set down in the decrees from formulation into fact, it would be renewed. In turn it would become a great force in renewing the Church and the world. What hope is there for such a renewal? The parable of the sower and the seed has its application to the Society as well as to the Church. There are those whose roots are not deep enough to withstand trials. There are others whose life of faith is choked by cares and riches. But then there are the many who do yield fruit, some, a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Decrees, however excellent, are no substitute for the gospel-call to totality. To the degree that individuals open themselves to the radical call of the gospel will they also open themselves to the decrees, which after all are only a faltering attempt to express this radical call in a way that is both Ignatian and contemporary. There are many factors which will contribute to energizing this renewal. Many feel a need for a deeper life of prayer. The importance of spiritual direc-tion is expressing itself strongly. A fuller appropriation of the Spiritual Exercises ¯ through the directed retreat is a great blessing. Again, an important factor is the reinforcement and leadership given to the Society by other religious con-gregations which have already led the way in the renewal of religious life by bringing their lives more in conformity with gospel simplicity and single-mindedness. We can also hope that we will not repeat the mistakes of the past ten years. Considering the turmoil and confusion coming from "future shock," these mistakes are perhaps understandable. But no organization can exist in a state of continuous convulsion. Many of the delegates, in searching for answers to the problems which faced us "discovered" our Thirty-first Congregation, which someone described as the great congregation in the history of the Society. We found that in many cases we could not do better, in fact could hardly come up to the decrees of the Thirty-first. But we also felt like a traveler who had spent hours trying to find his way only to discover after much meandering that there was a map in his glove compartment. The documents of the Thirty-first General Congreg -tion were such a map. The logical question, then, is: why were not the decrees implemented? A still more haunting question is: will the same thing happen to the decrees of this congregation? This was a problem which preoccupied the delegates throughout the whole time. Meetings were held to discuss implementation. But as the saying goes, 61~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 there is many a slip,between the cup and the lip. How much will the Society be able to drink in from the decrees? One of the main sources of hope, in addition to those mentioned above, is a renewed sense of solidarity and confidence among the provincials, and a strong sense of support in Fr. General. In the past ten years very often inaction resulted not from a failure of courage or faith, but because of a blurring of ideas concerning the fundamentals of religious life, often enough because of contradictory views bandied by theologians. The provincials obviously have not suddenly received some formula of universal application to solve all problems, but there is a greater sense of assurance and direction. The weight of implementation turns around the local superiors with the support of the provincials. There is hope here also, because the superiors themselves have a greater sense of their solidarity and of their role as spiritual leaders of the local communities. Ultimately the problem is always the same: conversion. It is something never accomplished once and for all, but continues to repeat its call. There are the perennial obstacles to conversion: inertia, self-love, self-will, the evil spirits that affect us all as individuals. However, it especially in the way that the collectivity reenforces the inertia in individuals that we find the main obstacle today. Group-think and group-feel, in large part created through the media, produce a kind of closedness that filters down from a collective level to in-dividuals, bringing about imperceptibly a closedness in the individual. Each one, young or old, is caught in some degree on this split level of collectivity and self, and suffers from the unfreedom of the collectivity. Jesuits already engaged in the apostolate have to discern how much this group-think affects their personal lives, impeding their personal conversion and the fruitfulness of their apostolate. Jesuits who are in formation have to do the same. The responsibility of those who are in charge of training the younger Jesuits is great. The importance of the congregation comes not from the written decrees but from the support that these decrees give to creating in the Society a different kind of group-think, a "group-feel" based upon the gospel. "My name is legion." Legions can be driven out only by legions. The demonic in collectivity can only be driven out by the embodiment of holiness in collec-tivity. The Society will rise or fall to the extent that the good will of the in-dividual is supported and sustained by a corporate realization of sanctity. No individual can abdicate the responsibility for his own conversion. But in a special way superiors have a responsibility for the whole group. Newman remarked somewhere that good is never done except at the expense of those who do it, and truth is never enforced except at the sacrifice of its propounders. Reformers and prophets have never been well received. Perhaps superiors are destined to enter into that role, not, however, with a martyr complex or heaviness of heart. We have a living example in Fr. Arrupe that it is a role that is compatible with a deep joy. Aiding and facilitating the work of the superiors are the communities A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 689 themselves which are called upon, through community meetings and prayerful discernment, to face their own response to the gospel call to simplicity, and to bridge the gap between the radical response to which we have vowed our lives and the actual way in which we live them. When I asked one of the delegates who was in great part responsible for the formulation of the decree on poverty how optimistic he was about its im-plementation, he said: "When I think of human nature, I am not very op-timistic. But when I think of the power of the Spirit, 1 am hopeful. Everything depends on the Spirit. Legislation can support; it cannot convert. Of ourselves we are weak, but with the power of the Spirit we can overcome, overcome even ourselves." POSITION OPEN The Department of Theology in the School of Religious Studies of the Catholic University of America announces the opening, beginning January, 1976, for: Assistant, Associate or Full Professor in the field of Christian Spiritual Theology. Applications should be sent to:Chairperson Department of Theology Catholic University of America Washington, DC 20064 The Catholic University of America is an equal ol~portunity employer. The Recovery =of Religious Life Bro. Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. Bro. Lawrence J. Cada, S.M. Both authors belong to the Marianist Training Network. Brother Raymond Fitz is director of the Marianist Institute of Christian Renewal and associate professor of Engineering Management and Electrical Engineering at the University of Dayton. He lives at 410 Edgar Avenue; Dayton, Ohio 45410. Brother Lawrence Cada is chairman of the Department of Science and Mathematics at Borromeo College of Ohio and lives at 315 East 149 Street; Cleveland, Ohio 44110. I. Introduction~ How long will the turmoils now besetting religious life last? Are they almost over, and has the process of returning to a more normal situation begun? Or will things stay unsettled for some time to come? This article will argue for the likelihood of the latter alternative. On the basis of the models and analyses presented, the article will try to show that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty to twenty-five years to run its full course. Moreover, the study will seek to demonstrate that social disintegration (loss of membership, lack of vocations, collapse of institutions, etc.) of religious communities in the Church will probably continue for at least the next ten to fifteen years. The most significant questions facing religious life in those ten to fifteen years will center on "death and dying." Many aspects of the life as it has been known will be passing away. Only after these questions are accepted and creatively answered can religious life be expected to be revitalized and renewed within the Church. This process will demand both a recovery of that deep dynamic impulse which first gave rise to religious life in the Church and a recovery from the malaise through which it is now passing: tThis is a draft of a work in progress. Feedback on the content and style of this paper would be ap-preciated. 690 The Recovery of Religious Life hence the title "The Recovery of Religious Life." Although much of this arti-cle argues for the plausibility of these assertions and their implications for the future of religious life, there will also be provided an explanation of how the data were collected and organized, and of what was called important or unim-portant. In this sense, these assertions represent a starting bias that informs the entire article. As such, this bias merits being stated at the outset. The approach taken in this article2 is to explore the questions about the future of religious life from a historical and sociological point of view. In the first two parts of the article, two models are developed: a historical model of the evolution of religious life as a movement in the Church and a sociological model dealing with the organizational life cycle of an individual religious com-munity. Then, in the final sections of the article, these two models will be used to address questions about the present condition of religious life and its future. Every model represents a simplification of reality, and the models in this arti-cle are no exception. To arrive at the questions posed in the final sections, the article will digest and condense large amounts of material drawn from a variety of sources that are partially indicated in the notes. It is hoped that this simplification is not a serious distortion of the facts and that it will arrange the historical and other data in such a way as to provide an overview from which some tentative generalizations can be made. II. The Evolution of Religious Life: A Historical Model Religious communities in the life of the church are not fixed and static en-tities. Taken together they make up a historical process unfolding over time, and religious life can be viewed as a significant social movement in the history of Western Culture. As parts of a movement, religious communities arose in response to dramatic social change in the Church and in the larger cultural and political arena of Western Civilization. They became a dynamic force in shap-ing and cha~ging the Church and secular culture. They have been both a cause and an effect of social change: the founding of religious communities has fre-quently been a response to major developments of society, and the evolution of the Church and Western Culture has been significantly influenced by the life and work of religious communities. As in all social movements, the role of myth, the emergence of belief systems, the fashioning of institutions and social structures, and the role of personal transformation and commitment are central to the evolution of religious life. The dynamic interplay of all these elements creates, sustains and limits the histo~'ical unfolding of religious communities. ~This article grew from a variety of experiences over an extended period of time with multiple presentations at workshops and reflections from many religious. Especially helpful were Fr. Norbert Brockman, S.M., Sr. Gertrude Foley, S.C., Bro. Thomas Giardino, S.M., and Sr. Carol Lichtenberg, S.N.D. The scheme of dividing the history of religious life into the five eras presented in the second part of this article was first suggested in a lecture given by Fr. David Fleming, S.M., at the University of Dayton in December, 1971. 692 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 A. Organizing Concepts One way to view the unfolding of religious life within the Church is to look at how the image of religious life has evolved over time and what implications this evolution has had for the functioning of individual religious communities.3 The term dominant image of religious life is used here to name a multifaceted reality that includes how religious view their life and its functions and role within the Church and the world during a given period. The term is also meant to indicate the sense of history which permeates religious life at a given time. How do people, both the religious and the members of society at large, picture the past of this way of life? What kind of future are religious supposed to be creating? The process by which the dominant image of religious life evolves in time can be characterized by a repeated sequence of identifiable phases of change: - Growth Phase. A relatively long period of elaboration and develop-ment of the dominant image of religious life and its implications. - Decline Phase. A period of crisis in which the dominant image of religious life comes under strong question. Religious communities seem no longer suited to the aspirations of the age. Religious com-munities lose their purpose, drift into laxity, and disintegrate. Transition Phase. A comparatively short period of revitalization in which variations of the dominant image of religious life emerge and one of these is gradually selected as the new dominant image. - Growth Phase under a New Image. A period of elaboration and development under the new dominant image of religious life. The supposition that religious life has passed through a succession of such phases of growth, decline, and transition is the basis of a model that can be used to organize and interpret the data of the history of religious life.4 The remainder of this section is devoted to illustrating a way this model might be constructed. 3Some sources used to clarify the notion of dominant image were Fred Polak, The hnage of the Future, translated and abridged by Elise Boulding (San Francisco: Jassey-Bass, 1973); Changing Images of Man, Policy Research Report No. 4, Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute, May, 1974; and Kenneth E. Boulding, The Image: Knowledge in Life and Society (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1961). *Some sources used to clarify the notion of social evolution were Stephen Toulmin, Human Understanding-I (Princeton: P. U. P., 1972); Anthony F. C. Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes in Cultural Change," American Anthropologist (Vol. 74, 1972), pp. 467-478; Donald T. Campbell, "'Variation and Selective Retention in Socio-Cultural Evolution," in H. R. Barringer, G. I. Blanksten, and R. W. Mack (¢ds.), Social Change in Developing Areas (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1965); Edgar S. Dunn, Economic and Social Development." A Process of Social Learn-ing (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. P., 1971); and Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). The Recovery of Religious Life / 693 The following questions have been used in fashioning the model. First, there are questions about variation that deal with searching and experiment-ing. Under what conditions do variations appear in the dominant image of religious life? If these variations lead in certain directions, what factors in culture, the Church, or religious life itself influenced the choice of those direc-tions? Second, there are questions about selection. What determines which variations in the dominant image of religious life are selected out to serve as essential elements of a new image of religious life? How do members of religious communities distinguish well-founded and properly justified variations from those which are precipitous, not well thought out, and hasty? ¯ Finally, there are questions about retention that deal with incorporating and establishing the new. How are selected variations incorporated into religious communities? What processes are needed? What set of factors distinguishes in-novations which endure from those which disappear quickly? B. Major Eras in the Evolution of Religious Life Using the concepts described above, the history of religious life can be divided into five main periods: the eras of the Desert Fathers, Monasticism, the Mendicant Orders, the Apostolic Orders, and the Teaching Congregations) The description of these eras given in this section constitutes the historical model that will be used in the final portion of this article. 1. Era of the Desert Fathers The first period was the Era of the Desert Fathers. Following the earliest manifestations of religious life in the mode of consecrated virgins and widows within the Christian communities of the persecuted Church, ther~ emerged the image of the religious as the ascetic holy person. The description of the her-mit's life given by Athanasius in his Life of Anthony crystallized an ideal which inspired both solitary anchorites and many communities of cenobites. The desert was seen as the domain of the demons to which they had retreated after being driven out of the cities by the triumph of the recently established Church. It was to this "desert" that generous men and women withdrew to 5Factual and historical data on the history of religious life were gathered from such standard sources as The Catholic Encyclopedia (1907), The New Catholic Encyclopedia (1967), the An-nuario Pontificio, The Official Catholic Directory, and The Catholic Almanac. Some of the other sources on this topic were Raymond Hostie, S.J., Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1972); David Knowles, O.S.B., Christian Monasticism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969); Humbert M. Vicaire, O.P., The Apostolic Life (Chicago: Priory Press, 1966); Derwas J. Chitty, The Desert a City (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1964); Owen Chadwick, John Cassian, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: C. U. P., 1968); William Hinnebusch, O.P., "'How the Dominican Order Faced Its Crises," Review for Religious (Vol. 32, No. 6, November, 1973), pp. 1307-1321; William A. Hinnebusch, O.P., The History of the Dominican Order, 2 vols. (New York: Alba House, 1966, 1973); Teresa Ledochowska, O.S.U., Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula, 2 vols. (Rome: Ancora, 1969); William V. Bangert, S.J., A History of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972); and Adrien Dansette, Religious History of Modern France, 2 vols. (New York: Herder and Herder, 1961). 69t~ / Review for Religious, lZolume 34, 1975/5 carry on the Church's important work of doing battle with the devil in the wilderness as Christ had done long ago. In this way the desert came to be seen as a place of austere beauty, where the monk was trained in the ways of perfec-tion. He returned from time to time into the midst of his fellow Christians, who saw in him the power to do good--healing the sick, casting out demons, comforting the sorrowful with gentle words, reconciling the estranged, and above all urging everyone to put nothing in the world before the love of Christ. This image captured the imagination of the Christian world as news about the Desert Fathers spread from Egypt to all points of the Roman empire. Throughout the 4th century monasteries sprang up on all the shores of the Mediterranean. By the 5th century, the golden age had begun to fade. In the East, the monks had become embroiled in doctrinal controversy. In the West, TABLE 1: ERA OF THE DESERT FATHERS (200-500) Dominant Image of Religious Life. The ideal of religious life is the holy ascetic who seeks " the perfection of Christ as a solitary or in community with a group of monks. Disciples withdraw into the "desert" and place themselves under the care of a master ascetic who teaches them the ways of perfection. They live nearby as hermits or gather in cenobia or monasteries where the master is the superior. The monk prays, mortifies himself, does battle with the devil for the sake of the Church, and spends his life seeking union with Christ. 2nd and 3rd Centuries 251 Anthony horn Consecrated virgins and widows live a form of 271 Anthony withdraws into the desert RL within Christian communities of the early 292 Pachomius born Church during the persecution. 4th Century 313 Edict of Milan 325 Pachomius founds cenobium 356 Anthony ~lies 357 Athanasius writes Life of Anthony 360 Basil founds monastery in Cappadocia 363 Martin founds monastery in Gaul 376 Melania founds monastery on Mount of Olives 393 Augustine founds monastic group in Hip-po 399 Cassian, disciple of Evagrius, migrates from Egypt to West Hermits and cenobites flourish in the Egyptian desert. Various forms of solitary and com-munity RL spread around eastern rim of the Mediterranean (Palestine, Syria, Cappadocia). First monasteries are founded in the West. 5th Century 410 Alaric sacks Rome RL continues to expand in the East. Spread of 415 Cassian founds monastery in Marseille wandering monks and various kinds of 455 Vandals sack Rome monasteries in the West while the western half 459 Simon the Stylite dies of the Roman Empire crumbles. 476 End of western Roman Empire 1st TRANSITION: SPREAD OF BENEDICT'S RULE The Recovery of Religious Life / 69t~ the foundations of Roman civilization weakened under the onslaught of the barbarian tribes, and the ties between the eastern and western halves of the Empire began to break apart. The monasteries in Gaul and other parts of the moribund West became refugee cloisters, where the monks gathered the few treasures of civilization they could lay hold of. As dusk settled on the glories of imperial Rome, the stage was set for the rise of feudal Europe and with it the next period in the evolution of religious life. 2. Era of Monasticism The next period was the Era of Monasticism. In his attempt to regularize religious life as "a life with God in separation from the world," Benedict produced a new dominant image of religious life. This image was not only a correction of the abuses which had crept in during the 5th and 6th centuries, it also, and more importantly, turned out to be a successful adaptation of religious life to the feudal society of the Dark Ages and the early medieval period. Benedict's short and practical Rule furnished workable guidelines for all monastic activity and every age and class of monks. It combined an uncom-promising spirituality with physical moderation and flexibility. It emphasized the charity and harmony of a simple life in common under the guidance of a wise and holy abbot. By the 9th century, this new image had spread to virtually all the monasteries of Europe. The ideal of the Benedictine monk became the model for Christian spirituality and played a part in the stabilization and unification of society. Various modifications, such as the Cluniac, Carthusian, and Cister-cian Reforms, maintained and adapted the dominant image to the developments in European society. Cluny and the Cistercians devised methods of uniting monasteries into networks that became harbingers of the modern order. However, by the time the 'first stirrings of urbanization began at the end of the 12th century, the dominant image began to show its inadequacies and once again laxity in religious life was not uncommon. There was also a great debate between monks and canons about which form of religious life was a more authentic embodiment of the apostolic ideal. As the civilization of the high Middle Ages began to emerge, new possibilities were felt in society and with them came the opportunity for a transition in religious life. 3. Era of the Mendicant Orders When Francis and Dominic launched their communities, they ushered in the next period, the Era of the Mendicant Orders. As mendicant friaries sprang up in towns across Europe, they met with an initial hostility which could not fathom how this new style could be an authentic form of religious life. Gradually, though, the new image of religious life became acceptable, and it proved to be a much better adaptation of ~:eligious life to the needs of urban society than was possible for the monasteries in their rural settings. During the course of the 13th century, even the monastic orders established studia close 696 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 to the new universities, where the mendicants were flourishing. As Christen-dom was passing through its zenith, the image of a religious life unen-cumbered with landed wealth played a key role in the cultivation of the in-tellectual life by the Church within society and in the preaching of the Gospel for the Church. TABLE 2: ERA OF MONASTICISM (500-1200) Dominant Image of RL. Life in a monastery is the ideal of the religious. The daily round of liturgical prayer, work, and meditation provides a practical setting to pursue the lofty goals of praising God and union with Christ. Within the Church and society, the monks set an example of how deep spirituality can be combined with loving ministry to one's neighbor and dutiful fidelity to the concrete tasks of daily living. 6th Century 529 Benedict founds a monastery to live ac- Spread of monasteries throughout western cording to his Rule Europe (Gaul, Spain, Ireland, etc.). Various 540 Celtic monasticism takes root in Irela'nd formats. Excesses and laxity are common--as 590 Columbanus founds monastery in Lu~r are wandering monks. euil 7th and 8th Centuries 642 Arab conquest of Egypt Gradual spread of Benedict's Rule to.more and 700 Venerable Bede more monasteries of Europe. Missionary 746 Boniface founds monastery in Germany journeys of Celtic monks to evangelize 755 Canons of Chrodegang founded northern Europe. 9th Century 816 Regula Canonicorum of Aix-la-Chapelle Observance of Canons Regular is made uni- 817 Charlemagne's son decrees that form by the spread of the Rule of Aix. Con- Benedict's Rule is to be observed in all solidation of Benedict's Rule. Virtually all monasteries. This project coordinated by monasteries are "Benedictine." Benedict of Aniane. 910 Cluniac Reform 1084 Carthusian Reform 1098 Cistercian Reform 10th and llth Centuries Various reforms breathe new life into Benedict's ideal and introduce organizational variations. 1111 Bernard joins the Cistercians 1120 Premonstratensians founded 12th Century Canons Regular unite into orders which are a variation of the monastic networks of Cluny and Citeaux. Military orders attempt a new form of RL which is temporarily successful (Knights of Malta, Templars, Teutonic Knights, etc.). 2nd TRANSITION: RISE OF THE MENDICANTS After a rapid flowering, the mendicant orders were affected by the same changes which spread across the Church and European society in the 14th and 15th centuries. As the Renaissance presaged the new humanism, the secularization of European society, and the breakup of the unity of Christen-dom, there emerged the conditions for yet a new kind of religious life. The Recovery of Religious Life / 697 TABLE 3: ERA OF THE MENDICANT ORDERS (1200-1500) Dominant Image of RL. The simple friar who begs for his keep and follows in the footsteps of the Lord is the ideal of RL. He prays as he goes, steeping himself in the love of Christ. Unencumbered by landed wealth, the mendicants are free to travel on foot to any place they are needed by the Church. They hold themselves ready to preach, cultivate learning, serve the poor, and minister to the needs of society in the name of the Church. 1211 Franciscans founded 1216 Dominicans founded 1242 Carmelites founded 1256 Augustinians founded 13th Century Mendicant friaries spring up in medieval towns across Europe. These foundations lend themsel~,es to work in the new universities and the apostolate of preaching. Rapid expansion of the mendicant orders. Monastic orders make some attempts to take up the style of the mendicants. 1325 75,000 men in mendicant orders 1344 Brigittines founded 1349 Black Death 1400 47,000 men in mendicant orders 1415 Hus burned at the stake 1450 Gutenberg 1492 Columbus 1500 90,000 men in mendicant orders 14th Century ~tabilization and slow decline of the mendicant orders. Abuses in RL are prevalent. 15th Century Various reforms restore the mendicant ideal and produce a gradual increase in membership. First stirrings of the Renaissance introduce an uneasiness into the Church and RL. 3rd TRANSITION: THE COUNTER-REFORMATION 4. Era of the Apostolic Orders The transition to the next period in religious life, the era of the Apostolic Orders, happened with the Counter-Reformation. Not long after Luther sparked the Protestant Revolt, the new image of religious life appeared with the foundation of various orders of Clerics Regular, the chief of which were the Jesuits. The verve and style of this new foundation set the pace for religious life, The mendicant orders had taken up this ideal in part by joining in the mis-sionary conquests,of the Church in the newly discovered lands. The new image also spurred religious to come to terms with the secularizing trends of the scientific revolution, modern philosophy, and the rise of nationalism in Europe. Jesuits, for example, could be found in the royal courts of almost all of Europe's Catholic kingdoms, in the laboratories of the new scientists, and teaching the youthful Descartes at La Fl~che. As the proponents of the Enlightenment testily challenged the very ex-istence of the Church, a slow decline descended upon religious life. Large and nearly empty monasteries dotted the European countryside. Jansenist and Enlightened thought undermined the.rationale for religious life from opposite directions. The Bourbon kings succeededin persuading Rome to suppress the 69~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 Jesuits in 1773. On the eve of the French Revolution, worldwide membership in all the men's religious orders stood at about 300,000; by the time the Revolution and the secularization which followed had run their course, fewer than 70,000 remained. Many orders went out of existence. As the 19th century began, there was need of a thorough-going revival of religious life, which could realistically cope with the new consciousness of Europe. TABLE 4: ERA OF THE APOSTOLIC ORDERS (1500-1800) Dominant Image of RL. Religious are an elite of dedicated and militant servants of the Church with a high level of individual holiness, a readiness to defend the Church on any front, and the zeal to win new expansion for the Church to the very ends of the earth. 1517 Luther sparks the Reformation 1535 Ursulines founded 1540 Jesuits founded 1541 Francis Xavier sails for Far East 1545 Trent starts 1562 Discalced Carmelite Reform 16th Century RE virtually wiped out in Protestant Europe. Founding and expansion of a new kind of RL in the format of the Clerics Regular. These groups work at shoring up the Church's political power in Catholic Europe, reforming the Church, and spreading the Gospel in the foreign missions. 17th Century 1610 Visitation Nuns founded 1625 Vincentians founded 1633 Daughters of Charity founded 1650 St. Joseph Sisters founded 1662 Ranc6 launches Trappist Reform 1663 Paris Foreign Mission Society founded 1681 Christian Brothers founded 1700 213,000 men in mendicant orders Flowering of spirituality, especially in French School, leads to new foundations such as the various societies of priests and clerical con-gregations. Bulk of men religious still belong to mendicant orders. 1725 Passionists founded 1735 Redemptorists founded 1770 300,000 men in RL in world 1773 Jesuits suppressed by Rome 1789 French Revolution starts 18th Century A few clerical congregations emerge, but RL as a whole seems to be in decline due to the in-roads of Enlightenment thought, Jansenism, wealth, and laxity. Weakened RL is given the coup de gr?tce by the French Revolution, which sets off a wave of political suppression and defection in France and the rest of Catholic Europe. 4th TRANSITION: FRENCH REVOLUTION 5. Era of the Teaching Congregations The revival of religious life which occurred in the next period, the Era of the Teaching Congregations, set off in a new direction. There were about 600 foundations of new communities in the 19th century. They were, for the most part, dominated by the movement of educating the masses. For the first time The Recovery of Religious Life / 699 in European history, the idea of educating everyone had the possibility of be-ing concretely realized. The new congregations joined in this movement in hopes of planting the seeds of a hardy faith in the souls of the children they taught by the thousands. This zeal for the education of children was combined with a cleansed Jansenistic spirituality to form the new image of religious life. While the activity of religious spilled over into other apostolic works such as hospitals, teaching set the pace. Even the few pre-Revolution orders which were managing a slow recovery took on many of the trappings of the typical 19th century teaching congregation. For the first time in the history of religious life, recruitment of adult vocations was almost completely displaced by the acceptance of candidates just emerging from childhood. Through the end of the 19th century and on into the 20th the religious who gave themselves to this demanding work of teaching edified the Church and produced a brand of holiness which was most appropriate for a Catholicism which sought to strengthen a papacy denuded o.f worldly power and to care for the masses of the industrialized wor.ld in need of christianization. By the mid-1960's membership in religious communities reached the highest point in the history of the Church. In the last decade, this trend was reversed for the first time in more than a century. Crises have set in which some ascribe to a loss of identity TABLE 5: ERA OF THE TEACHING CONGREGATIONS (1800-present) Dominant Image of RL. Religious dedicate their lives to the salvation of their own souls and the salvation of others. The style of life of religious men and women blends in intense pursuit of personal holiness with a highly active apostolic service. Identity with the person of Christ unites this two-fold objective into a single purpose. 19th Century 1814 French Restoration; Jesuits restored by Rome 1825 Fewer than 70,000 men in RL in world 1831 Mercy Sisters founded 1850 83,000 men in RL in world 1859 Salesians founded 1870 Papal infallibility declared Revival of RL after widespread state sup-pressions. Numerous foundations of con-gregations dedicated to a return to authentic RL blended with service, principally in schools. Old orders, such as Jesuits and Dominicans, rejuvenated in the format of the teaching con-gregations. Church gradually centralizes around the papacy and isolates itself from secular trends of the modern world 20th Century 1950 275,000 men in RL in world 1962 Vatican II starts; 1,012,000 women in RL in world 1965 335,000 men in RL in world 1966 181,500 women in RL in U.S. 1972 879,000 women in RL in world 1973 143,000 women in RL in U.S. 1974 227,500 men in RL in world Expansion and solidification. In the sixties, crises set in from within RL due to loss of iden-tity and inroads of secularizing process. Numerous defections and decreasing numbers of new members. 5th TRANSITION: (?) 700 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 and the inroads of secularism. It seems that another transition in the long history of religious life has begun. Further considerations will be undertaken in the remainder of this article to better analyze the present situation. 11I. The Life Cycle of a Religious Community: A Sociological Model The previous section of this paper focused on a historical model for the evolution of religious life as such within the Church; in this section attention is turned toward the life of the individual religious community or institute. To this end, a sociological model for the life cycle of individual religious com-munities which organizes the important dimensions of each period in the life of the communities is developed.6 This model allows further probing of the questions concerning the plausibility of a revitalization of religious life, since revitalization of present religious communities is one way that religious life as a whole will be renewed. A. Organizing Concepts To date, only thirteen men's religious orders in the entire his.tory of the Church have ever surpassed a membership figure of 10,000 at some point of their existence. The membership pattern of three of these orders--the Dominicans, the Minims, and the Jesuits--is graphed in Figure 1 below. Although these three examples are taken from among the largest orders of the Church, they are representative of the membership pattern in most religious communities, large or small. Typically one finds one or more cycles of growth and decline in the number of members. These membership patterns suggest a dynamic of inner vitality that goes on in a religious community. Using such analogies as the human life cycle and other cycles of growth and decline, a sociological model has been devised which divides the life cycle of an active religious community into five periods: foundation, expansion, stabilization, breakdown and transition. The model is shown schematically in Figure 2. The shape of this curve is intended to repre-sent the over-all vitality of the community as it passes from one period to the next. In the following section salient events and characteristics which typify each of these periods are described. An attempt is also made to isolate the crises which occur during each period. ~Some sources used to clarify the notion of a life cycle were Hostie, Vie et mort; Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes"; Gordon L. Lippitt and Warren H. Schmidt, "Crisis in a Developing Organization," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 45, No. 6, November-December, 1967), pp. 102- 112; and Lawrence E. Greiner, "Evolution and Revolution as Organizations Grow," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 50, No. 4, July-August, 1972), pp. 37-46; Thomas F. O'Dea, The Sociology of Religion (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1966); Luther P. Gerlach and Virginia H. Hine, People. Power and Change: Movements of Social Transformation (Indianapolis: Bobbs- Merrill, 1970). The Recovery of Religious Life / 701 _z 20 LLI ~ lO 30 1200 1300 ! \/ , st 1400 1500 1600 1700 I t I t I I I II ! I ! 1800 1900 2000 Figure 1: Membership of Dominicans, Minims, and Jesuits IFOUNDATIONIEXPANSION ISTABILIZATION BREAKDOWN TRANSITION Figure 2: Life Cycle of a Religious Community B. The Periods of the Life Cycle 1. The Foundation Period The first period in the life of a religious community centers around a found-ing person and his or her vision. The founder or foundress undergoes a radically transformi,ng experience, which can usually be pinpointed to an event or series of events, and .which is perceived as an abrupt shift in the founding 702 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/5 person's identity and a timeless moment in which a vision or dream is received. Contained in the transforming experience is a new appreciation of the message of Jesus which leads to innovative insight on how the condition of the Church or society could be dramatically improved or how a totally new kind of future could be launched. A new impetus to live the religious life in all the totality of its demands is felt, and a new theory emerges that is at once a critique of the present, an appropriation of the past, a compelling image of the future, and a basis for novel strategies. The founding person's transforming experience is followed by the initial emergence of the community. A fortuitous encounter takes place between the founder or foundress and some contemporary men or women in which the founding experience, the innovative insight, the emerging theory, and the call to holiness are shared. The group unites under the guidance of the founding person to search for and invent new arrangements for living the Gospel together and working toward the realization of the Kingdom of God. The foundation period may last ten to twenty years or longer and fre-quently coincides with the last part of the founding person's lifetime. Integra-tion and cohesion center on the founding person and still more deeply on the person of Christ. The structural identity of the community appears in seminal form, and authority in the community springs from the wisdom of the found-ing person. Founding events of religious communities have a uniqueness about them which has caused them to be especially treasured as significant moments in the Church's past. Examples of founding persons and their visions readily come to mind: Angela Merici's dream of a new kind of religious life for women that centered on an active apostolate; the hopes of Robert of Molesme to restore fervor through the primitive observance of Benedict's Rule in the wilderness of C~teaux; Don Bosco's contagious vision of loving Christ and joyfully serving the poor. The more striking cases of founding persons receiving their in-spirations have become part of the common heritage of all religious: Anthony hearing in a Sunday Gospel the words which were the key to his life's aim; Ignatius retiring to Manresa to receive his visions. For the most part the foundation period is a time of grace and charism for a new religious community. But there are also crises that must be faced. The crisis of direction forces the community to decide which undertakings are im-portant and which must be sacrificed. The crisis of leadership confronts the community with the problem of finding out how it will live beyond the time of its founding person. The crisis of legitimization engulfs the nascent community in the question of whether or not the Church will approve it as an authentic form of religious life. The Waldensians, for example, showed some signs of becoming a new religious order on the pattern of the mendicants, but they never overcame the crisis of iegitimization. Instead of becoming a religious community, they ended up as renegades who had to hide out in the woods of medieval Europe. The Recovery of Religious Life / 70a 2. The Expansion Period When the community has emerged from the foundation period, it un-dergoes a fairly long period of expansion, during which the founding charism is institutionalized in a variety of ways. A community cult and belief system solidifies, a community polity is fashioned, and community norms and customs take hold. As members of the community's second generation mature and grow older, they recount stories of the foundation, which they have heard from the pioneers or have themselves experienced in their youth. These stories enshrine decisive events which set the community's direction or establish its characteristic traits. Gradually, rituals and symbols which express and com-memorate the most treasured facets of the foundation are fused with the.iore of the older members into a sort of sacred memory and cult that begins to be passed on from generation to generation as the community's "founding myth." Attempts are made at thinking through the founding myth and expressing it in terms of contemporary thought patterns. Eventually these efforts result in theories, interpretations, and social models which coalesce into a belief system and give a rational structure to the more intuitive thrust of the founding myth. Simultaneously, procedures are devised for community decision making and communication, and bit by bit the community's polity.takes shape. Norms are set down and customs emerge which cover all aspects of the community's life, such as membership criteria, leadership standards, and apostolic priorities. The members of the young community experience an excitement about the growth and success which characterizes the expansion period. Large numbers join the community, and new works are rapidly taken on which enhance the possibility of a still broader recruitment. Major interpreters of the founding vi-sion are recognized. Patterns of spiritual practice are determined, and the community's spirituality is made concrete in manuals of direction or other written documents. With expansion come certain organizational crises. How is authority to be delegated? What means will be used to integrate and tie together the rapidly expanding network of establishments and the burgeoning membership. When Bernard joined the Cistercians thirteen years after their foundation, he led the community through this kind of organizational crisis. In the process, a new en-tity, the general chapter, was invented to cope with the situation, and this in-novation is still a standard feature.of most religious orders today. Another crisis of this period centers on maintaining the pristine vigor of the founding vision. As rival interpretations arise, which will be discarded? A classic exam-ple of this kind of crisis occurred in the great debates about poverty among the early Franciscans just after Francis died. 3. The Stabilization Period After a fairly long expansion, which may last two to three generations or "/04 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 longer, there ensues a period of stabilization. Numerical increase in membership may continue, but geographical expansion usually slows down. The stabilization period may last a century or more, but it is sometimes as brief as fifty years or so. A feeling of success pervades the community during the stabilization period. Members experience a high degree of personal satisfaction from simply being in the community. The prevailing image of religious life is clear and accepted. It provides a basis for describing unambiguous social roles for religious. The community is accomplishing its purpose and this purpose is self-evident. The need to improve is not seen as a need to change things but simply to do better what is already being done. Gradually, as stabilization sets in, more and more of the community assumes that religious life has always been the way it is now and that it will always remain so in the future. There is little need to elaborate the understanding of the founding vision or penetrate into it more deeply. It is simply accepted and repeated to new members who join. No one is left in the community who knew the founding person or the first dis-ciples personally. Memory of the founding events takes on the cast of past his(ory that is separate from the present moment. Formation of new members emphasizes their conformity to standard patterns of external behavior that are seen as the best means of cultivating interior commitment. The over-all feeling of success which is so typical of the stabilization period is not illusory. There is in fact a job that is being done and done well by the many generous religious who devote themselves to its accomplishment. The kinds of crises that Crop up during the stabilization period are linked to the other characteristics of the period. The crisis of activism occurs. Members become so absorbed in work that they lose sight of its spiritual and apostolic underpinning. They allow the satisfactions of accomplishment to dis-place a centeredness in Christ. Loss of intensity is another crisis of the stabilization period. Is it possible to maintain the intensity of vision and com-mitment among members, now that the community has become so highly in-stitutionalized? They can often be simply carried along by the sheer inertia of the community's activity and held in place by the pressure of social expecta-tion placed on their role as religious from people in the Church. Another danger stems from the crisis of adaptation. In the midst of success the com-munity is seldom open to adaptation, and any changes that have to be made are fraught with difficulty. Quite often, even the most legitimate changes are rejected, and their proponents are righteously and intolerantly silenced. The failure of later Jesuit missionaries to implement the ideas of Matteo Ricci con-cerning Confucian practices among Chinese Catholics is perhaps a good ex-ample of the sort of resistance to adaptation that can be found during the stabilization period. 4. The Breakdown Period Eventually the seeming immutabilities of the stabilization period start to give, and the religious community enters the breakdown period. The The Recovery of Religious Life / 705 breakdown may be gradual and last a half a century or more, or it may be rapid and run its course in a few decades. In either case, what happens is a dis-mantling of the institutional structures and belief systems that arose in the ex-pansion period and served the community so well during the stabilization period. This collective decline gives rise, in turn, to stress and doubt in the in-dividual members. Initially .a number of persons become dissatisfied with the current state of the community. Perhaps they are simply struck by what they judge to be the silliness of some of the community's customs or procedures. Or they may come to see that the community's life and work are not equipped to handle im-portant new challenges. Unanswered questions about the function and purpose of the community begin to accumulate and start to raise doubts. Levels of in-dividual stress increase slowly at the beginning, but then rise rapidly as doubt spreads to more and more levels of the community's social structure. To handle the growing problems, standard remedies are tied. All that is needed, it seems, is to get back to doing well what has always been done and to renew commitment to the community's mission. However, the usual problem-solving techniques become increasingly ineffective. A sense of crisis grows as community authority and decision-making structures become confused. The community's belief system begins to appear archaic and bound in by the trap-pings and articulations of a bygone age. The founding experience and myth, which had been internalized by the community's early generations, is no longer felt by the members. As the community loses its sense of identity and purpose, service to the Church becomes haphazard and lacks direction. Moral norms in the com-munity are relaxed and some members perhaps distract themselves with sex and a misuse of wealth. There is a net loss of membership through increased withdrawals and decreased recruitment of new members. The crises that arise during the breakdown period center on the various phenomena of decline in the community. The crisis of polarization can become acute when those who have faith in the community as it was align themselves against those who in varying degrees reject the community as it is. The crisis of collapsing institutions sets in as the community is forced to stop doing "business as usual" and abandon long-established works. The resulting demoralization leads to the crisis of the community's impending death. What is to be done as the chilling awareness grows in the community that it is inex-orably listing into disintegration on all sides? 5. The Transition Period The breakdown is followed by a period of transition. Three outcomes are possible for religious communities during this period: extinction, minimal sur-vival, or revitalization. Extinction, the first of these outcomes, occurs when all the members of a community either withdraw or die and it simply passes out of existence. This happened, for example, to 76% of all men's religious orders founded before 706 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 1500 and to 64% of those founded before 1800. From a historical perspective, then, a reasonable expectation would seem to be that most religious com-munities in the Church today will eventually become extinct. A religious community which does not die out may go into a long period of low-level or minimal survival. If the membership pattern of presently existing religious orders founded before the French Revolution is examined, one finds that most of them enter into a period lasting across several centuries in which the number of members is very low. In fact, only 5% of all men's orders founded before 1500 and only 11% of the orders founded before 1800 have a current membership which is larger than 2,000. The Minims (Figure 1) are typical of the orders which once were quite large and now have a small membership. This type of outcome should not be interpreted as a dis-appearance of vitality in every case. The Carthusians, for example, follow this membership pattern. Yet they seem to be living UP to their reputation of never having relaxed their observance--never reformed and never needing reform. To this day the order's spiritual impact appears greater than its numerical strength. There is also a small percentage of religious communities which survive the breakdown period a~d enter into a period of revitalization. At least three characteristics can be singled out in all communities which have been revitalized in this way: a transforming response to the signs of the times; a reappropriation of the founding charism; and a profound renewal of the life of prayer, faith, and centeredness in Christ. The time in history fn which revitalization occurs seems to make a difference. If the revitalization occurs during one of the shifts in the dominant image of religious life singled out in the historical model above, the com-munity takes on many of the characteristics of the emerging image, and the transforming response to the signs of the times seems central to the revitaliza-tion. If the revitalization occurs midway during one of the major eras in the history of religious life identified earlier in this article, the revitalization takes on the characteristics of a reform with the reappropriation of the founding charism playing a central role. In either case the community experiences the revitalization as a second foundation. Personal transformation or conversion is central to revitalization. With personal transformation comes innovative insight and a new centering in the person of Christ. The innovative insight allows the transformed individuals within the community to develop critical awareness of the assumptions un-derlying the traditional meaning of the community and functioning of that community within the Church and the world. This innovative insight brings with it a focusing of energies through a new positive vision of what the com-munity should be in the future. The vision allows the emergence of a new theory which gives meaning to the experiences of individuals and the shared events lived within the community and spurs the community to building and creating its future. Such a new theory guides the community in the search for The Recovery of Religious Life / 707 and the invention of new models ~of living together as a community bound by. the evangelical conditions of discipleship in the service of the Church. A more complete sketch of the human dynamics of revitalization will be given in the last section of this article. The essential components of this dynamic, namely, insight and vision, and new theory and new models, are mentioned at this point to complete the picture of the life cycle of a religious community. Some limitations of this sociological model and the historical model of the previous section are given in the next section together with some generalizations that can be drawn from the models. IV. Some Limitations and Generalizations A. Limitations of the Models Before proceeding, some concluding and cautionary remarks must be made. Evidently the rapid overview of the history of religious life given in the first portion of this article should not be taken as anything more than a demonstration of how the evolution of religious life can be interpreted so as to fit the model of the five main eras that are being postulated in the proposed historical model. The account is far too compressed and over-simplified to provide an adequate and proi~erly nuanced telling of the story of religious life. For example, little attention was given to the Canons Regular, who constituted a significant portion of men religious from the Middle Ages to the French Revolution. There was no discussion of the medieval military orders nor of Orthodox monasticism. A still more gaping lacuna is the almost complete absence of any analysis of the way women's religious life differed from or followed the same pattern as that of the men. It may be that the sources used in this study were not sensitive to the distinctive role women actually played in the evolution of religious life. On the other hand, it may be that up to the present time the trends of women's religious life have been very parallel to those in the men's orders. The models proposed for the evolution of religious life and for the life-cycle of a religious community are also both simplifications. Some might validly question, for example, whether there were just five major eras in the history of religious life and whether the transitions between the eras occurred as clearly as the historical model suggests. The description of the dominant image of religious life for each era is a simplification of what was in every case a rather complex phenomenon. Hopefully, the liberties that have been taken are justified by the intention of trying to synopsize the history of religious life in such a way as to make some tentative insights more easily accessible to someone who is not a professional historian. Similarly, the breaks between the successive periods in the life cycle of a religious community are nowhere near as clear-cut as the proposed sociological model suggests. In .history, breakdowns sometimes occur within one order in different geographical locales at different times. Revitalizations often occur in some places for an order, while it decays elsewhere. At times 708 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 there are orders in which the role of the founding person is rather minor and does not have the decisiveness described in the model. Some communities have been founded in rather modest historical circumstances that were not accom-panied by the profound inspiration described in the model. These and similar qualifications must be kept in mind when the sociological model is used to in-terpret the life cycle of any particular community. B. Generalizations The models presented in the previous sections suggest some generalized conclusions. These conclusions can be helpful in exploring the present crisis of religious life. The historical evidence suggests that there have been significant shifts in the dominant image of religious life across the centuries. These shifts seem to occur when there are major societal changes astir and when the Church is un-dergoing major changes. The first transition happened as the Roman Empire fell in the West and feudal Europe was beginning; at the same time the rift between western and eastern Christianity was starting. The second transition occurred as feudal Europe was giving way to medieval urbanization and as the Church was gathering all of Europe into the unity of Christendom. The third transition took place at the start of the modern period of Western Civilization as the Church underwent the shock of the Reformation. The fourth transition resulted from a direct attack of society on the Church as a whole and on religious life in particular. Admittedly each of these changes in the culture and the Church differed from one another in many respects. However, the pattern seems clear enough at least to permit one to ask whether perhaps another shift in the dominant image of religious life would happen if major changes in society and the Church should come to pass. Although religious communities have been founded in almost every cen-tury of Christian history, it seems that each major shift in the dominant image of religious life is heralded by some significantly new foundations which em-body a new image in an especially striking way. This could be said of the earliest Benedictine monasteries for the first transition, of the Franciscans and Dominicans for the second transition, of the Jesuits for the third transition, and of the plethora of 19th century foundations for the fourth transition. It also seems to be the case that many communities go out of existence at each transition. Those that survive either continue in a diminished form or somehow blend the new dominant image with the charism of their own foun-dation to get another lease on life. The mendicant orders, for example, grew numerically stronger during the Era of Apostolic Orders as they adapted their own special gifts to the new style of religious life. The culture of the high Mid-dle Ages was rapidly and irretrievably passing away, but the mendicants adapted and flourished. One might ask, then, if the Church would witness the death of many religious communities and the foundation of new and different ones if a shift in the dominant image of religious life were to occur. The remainder of this article will explore the plausibility of maintaining that The Recovery of Religious Life / 709 another major transition has in fact begun in the history of religious life. Should this hypothesis be true, it would be appropriate to pose questions about h6w religious life is dying and how a recovery and revitalization might happen. Another observation that suggests itself from this brief survey concerns the continuity that underlies the shifts of the dominant image of religious life. As the image evolves it continues to hold up the impelling ideal of a radical following of the conditions set forth by Christ for an evangelical discipleship embedded in a life of prayer and deep faith. While the contemporary religious would probably not feel called to take on the externals of the life of the Desert Fathers, he or she will surely understand and be drawn to the stark beauty of the life of radical discipleship that moved Anthony to withdraw into the desert. Similar remarks could probably be made about the ultimate aims of the first Franciscans and the first rugged band of Jesuits. Through all the twists and turns in the make up and style of religious life, there is a deep core of seeking union with Christ in a special and total way that endures century after century. A great deal of historical precedent would have to be explained away by anyone who would wish to maintain that religious life is about to disappear as a separate and distinguishable way of life in the Church. The historical pattern seems to be one of repeated recovery. The present moment is indeed a time of trouble for religious communities, but religious life as a whole will doubtlessly survive. Turning to the sociological model, some further generalizations can be made. In the evolution of a religious community the non-rational elements of transforming experience, vision, and myth play a central role. This is es-pecially true during the periods of foundation and revitalization. Although necessary for each period in the life-cycle of a community, the techniques of rationality (long-range planning, leadership training, etc.) will never be suf-ficient to found a religious community or to revitalize one. The renewed vitality that comes to some religious communities during the time of transition finds its source in plumbing the depths of.the mythic and non-rational and in-tegrating them with the more rational dimensions of human life. A central insight of the myth of original sin is that humankind is not capable of sustained development; breakdown and disintegration are ever-recurring manifestations of the human condition. Since religious men and women exist within the human condition, it should not be surprising that, from time to time, all religious communities experience an extensive period of significant breakdown and disintegration. These bleak realities should be em-braced with humble acceptance of th~ human condition and a faith-filled hope that the Lord will in time resurrect life-giving initiatives from the death-dealing processes of breakdown. V. Where Does Religious Life Stand Today? In the previous sections of this article, the history of the religious-life movement in the Church and of particular religious communities was ex-amined to determine the major factors within culture, the Church, and 710 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 religious communities themselves that significantly influence the evolution of this movement. Generalizations from the proposed models indicate that major. transitions are likely to occur in religious life when secular culture is in the midst of a major crisis, and when religious life has experienced a period of major breakdown. The factors can serve as a useful matrix for answering the question, "Where does religious life stand today?" As was mentioned in the in-troduction, the answer proposed in this article is that religious life is undergo-ing a pervasive transition that will last for the next twenty to twenty-five years and which will significantly change the style of life and service of religious communities. The plausibility of this assertion is developed in this section. A. Signs of Transition in Secular Culture Many writers have noted that contemporary culture is in the midst of a societal transition. Some compare the present time to the Renaissance. Others claim that the present multifaceted change is equal to if not greater in magnitude than the agricultural and industrial revolutions. Many strands of societal transition have been pointed out. Spiritual, intellectual, philosophical, psychological, political, economic, and many other crises in society have been described by writers from a wide range of disciplines. For the purposes of this article, a cluster of these difficulties, which might be broadly termed the socio-economic crisis, will be summarized below as a sample of the sort of comment on contemporary society being made today. Catastrophic events and critical trends are continually reported by the news media. These reports range from widespread famine in the Sahel and South Asia to the continued downward spiral of the national economy. Careful analysts and writers have noted that these events and trends are a manifestation of the parallel growth of a set of interrelated critical issues which they have designated as the "world problematique.''7 A list of the critical issues that make up the "world problematique" would include: Energy Problems: Runaway growth in domestic and worldwide use of energy; shortages and scarcity of energy; insufficient capital resources to develop new energy sources. Food Problems: Food supply unable to meet the demand for food; worsening of weather conditions through pollution; increasing food prices due to food scarcity and increasing cost and consumption of energy; deterioration of arable land through increased urbaniza-tion and ecological undermining; actual widespread famine; potential long term problems of hunger and famine. Pollution Problems: Rise of pollution-induced illness; exponential increhse in the pollu-tion of the air and seas; denuding of natural environment through strip mining. 7.Some sources used to examine the "world problematique" were Kenneth E. F. Watt, The Titanic Effect: Planning for the Unthinkable (Stanford, Conn.: Sinauer Associates, Inc.); Donella H. Meadows, et al., The Limits to Growth (Washington: Potomac Associates, 1972); Mihajlo Mesarovic and Eduard Pestel, Mankind at the Turning Point (New York: Reader's Digest Press, 1974); Lester R. Brown, In the Human Interest (New York: W. W. Norton, 1974); and Lester R. Brown with Eric P. Eckholm, By Bread Alone (New York: Praeger, 1974). The Recovery of Religious Life / 711 Economic Problems: Growing world inflation; market saturation (e.g. airplanes, elec-tronic equipment, automobiles); instability and manipulation of monetary system, lack of alternatives to growth economics; increasing gap between the "have's" and the "have not's." Work Problems: Increasing unemployment and underemployment; saturation of the labor market; decreased productivity; increasing alienation and dissatisfaction with work; depersonalization of work environments. Problems of Urban Areas: Deterioration of urban areas; increasing crime rates; in-creasing cost of essential urban services. Problems of International Order." Hazards of international competition and war; com-petitive economic policies. What makes the "world problematique" different from problems en-countered in previous eras is its complexity and the pervasive interrelationship of its elements. Hence, the "world problematique" is not amenable to normal methods of problem solving. Attempts to address such critical issues in a singular or joint fashion introduce fundamental dilemmas that do not appear resolvable within conventional modes of thought. Among such dilemmas which seem to be plaguing the contemporary politico-economic situation, four might be singled out: the dilemmas of growth, guidance, global justice, and social roles.8 These dilemmas are delineated more fully in Table 6. One may ask if these problems and dilemmas have not been present during most of the Industrial Era. Are not the problems of the 20's and 30's very much the same as those of the 70's and 80's? What makes the above mentioned problems and dilemmas different is that they have not been ameliorated through the use of conventional wisdom and standard problem-solving ap-proaches. In fact, one may argue that application of these approaches has led to many unanticipated and undesirable consequences. Resolution of the problems and dilemmas is dependent upon a thorough-going shift in social perceptions, involving restructuring of beliefs, images, and human aspirations at a fundamental level. B. Crisis in the Church and the Breakdown in Religious Life The Catholic Church in America has been profoundly influenced by con-temporary change. For at least fifteen years the Church has been experiencing a transition of its life. The Second Vatican Council (1962-1964) was a result of the early stages of this transition and a triggering event for its later stages. The Church began to open itself to a world which was undergoing a dramatic secularization. This opening up or aggiornamento had significant impact on all dimensions of Church life. Parish life and parochial education are no longer the only shapers of the values and beliefs of American Catholics. The once-clear norms and social roles ~vithin the Church no longer seem to serve their original purpose. For example, the Vatican's official position on birth 8The schematization presented in Table 6 is based on the work of Bill Harmon, Director of the Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute. 712 / Review for Religious, I~'olume 34, 1975/5 TABLE 6: SOME DILEMMAS OF CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY Growth The fundamental "new scarcity" of fossil fuels, minerals, fresh water, arable land, habitable surface area, waste-absorbing capacity of the natural environment, fresh air, and food come from approaching the finite limits of the earth. These limits demand a radical slow down or leveling off in material.growth and energy-use curves of the past.' Yet, the present economic and political system is built around a growth hypothesis. The economic and political consequences of limiting growth appear unbearable. Guidance Dilemma Ecological considerations along with awesome power of modern technology to change any and all aspects of the human environment establish a mandate for greater guidance of technological and social innovation. Yet, the political price of such guidance is very high. Such guidance is perceived as con-trary to man's fundamental right to freedom and as an inhibition to economic growth. Global Justice Dilemma Further advances by the industrialized nations make the rich nations richer and the poor nations relatively poorer. The impressive ac-complishments of the industrial economy are largely built on a base of cleverness plus cheap energy, the latter from the world's limited stockpile of fossil fuels. Yet, the costs of not redressing these inequities may be serious political and economic world instabilities as well as widespread famine and inhuman suffering in the poorer nations. Social Roles Dilemma Present economic system is failing to provide Yet, the absence of satisfying and personally an adequate number of satisfying social roles meaningful roles for women, youth, the especially for women and minorities. The aged, and minorities along with worker employment market is saturated; there is a dissatisfaction in general results in in-need to keep youth and the aged out of the creased I~ersonal alienation and erodes labor market, the morale of the nation. control is considered unacceptableto an increasingly large number of Catholics. Difficulties are arising in the functioning of such Church structures as the priesthood and the traditional role of the laity and of such Church institutions as parishes, schoo|s, and hospitals. Their once-unquestioned role within the Church no longer seems to satisfy the needs of an increasingly large number of church members. This crisis and transition within the Church has had a dramatic effect on religious communities of women and men. Religious communities have begun to experience all of the signs of entering into the breakdown and disintegration period described earlier in this article. There has been a sharp decline in membership due to increased withdrawals and a decrease in new recruits. Re- The Recovery of Religious Life / 713 cent literature9 gives a statistical picture of this breakdown in the United States. - A recent National Opinion Research Center study indicated there is a larger relative number of resignees among those already established in church careers than in any other equivalent period of time since the French Revolution. - For the years between 1965 and 1972 66% of the yearly decrease in communities of religious women was due to dispensation or termination of vows. In communities of religious women the average annual net increase over these years was approximately 768 members, the average annual net decrease was 3841, with only one-third of that loss caused by deaths. - The total number of Sisters in 1974 had declined 17% from 1960 and 23% since their peak membership year in 1966. - The total number of religious Brothers in 1974 had decreased 12% since 1960 and 26.5% since their peak membership year in 1966. The purposes of religious communities which were once clear and widely understood have become vague and meaningless to some in the midst of the modern church crisis. The structures of authority and process of communica-tion and decision making within religious communities seem no longer to fit the needs of the individuals within the community or suit the evolving work of the communities. The processes of formation to religious community have sometimes become disorganized and seem to lack purpose. These and other signs indicate that the last fifteen to twenty years have been a time when most religious com-munities have begun to experience breakdown. This cluster of the signs of breakdown in virtually all communities seems to indicate that we are ap-proaching the end of another major era in the history of religious life. C. Restatement of the Bias This review of the transitions in secular culture as well as the current crisis of the Church allows us to use the historical and sociological models of the evolution of religious life and religious communities outlined in the previous sections to answer the question "Where does religious life stand today?" In the introduction of this article, an answer was given in what was called the fun-damental bias of the article, namely, that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty or twenty-five years to run its full course. The arguments leading up to this bias can be set forth as follows: 1. The dominant image of religious life has undergone several major tran-sitions as religious life has evolved as a movement within the Church. 2. The occurrence of these major transitions is associated with a number 9Carroll W. Trageson and Pat Holden, "Existence and Analysis of the 'Vocation Crisis' in Religious Careers," (pp. 1-3) in Carroll W. Trageson, John P. Koval, and Willis E. Bartlett (eds.), Report on Study of Church Vo

Issue 56.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1997. ; for re,lig i ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST1997 ¯ VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER4 Review for Religious (s a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is pul31ished bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone:314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPI~I~MA@SLU.I~I)U 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 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Hendersou, NC 27536 POSTMASTF~R 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. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy auy 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 creatio,i of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review fi3r 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 James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY/AUGUST1997 * VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER4 contents prayer 342 Evoking the Spirit: Reflections on How to Pray ¯ ~°~Richard Hauser SJ explores the role of the Spirit in bringing about a communion with God, the goal of all prayer methods. 359 Liturgy of the Hours: Path to Integration Judy Roxborough STJ describes how praying the Liturgy of the Hours in community offers many ways in which we can find unity and wholeness, with ourselves, with our commutfity, with the world, and with all of creation. 364 370 spiritual direction What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority? Steve R. Wigall refocuses the question about the spiritual director's authority by considering the role of the Holy Spirit and the directee's freedom in this ministry. Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction Shaun McCarty ST explores the nature and necessity of confidentiality in the ministry of spiritual direction and also some legal considerations affecting its practice. Review for Relig4ous 378 387 psychology Psychology: An Aid to Religious Formation Sefin D. Sammon FMS considers three specific and pressing initial and ongoing formative challenges and examines how psychology may help. Mental-Health Consultation with Religious Orders Alexander H. Smith Jr. considers elements of effective consultation from the perspective of both consultant and community in order to inform, to caution, and to encourage well-grounded principles and practices. 4O2 412 consecrated life Visiting a Scene. of Election Janet K. Ruffing RSM focuses within congregational elections on the ongoing partnership and collaboration of each assembly member and the entire body with those who are elected. The Rewards of a Costly Community Roger Finke ~ses sociological data to demonstrate that new members are attracted to religious congregations that have a distinctive community and mission. 340 433 departments Prisms ~,~, /~,~ -,¢- -r~ Canonical Counsel: Levels of Legislation in an Institute Book Reviews July-August 1997 prisms Jesus Christ is central to our faith and to its practices. As we continue our preparations for celebrating the third millennium in the spirit of John Paul II's 1995 letter, we could well reflect on how central Jesus is to our life, our prayer, and our work--to our everyday world. Jesus identified himself as one "preaching the good news." Jesus, first and foremost, proclaimed himself an "evangelizer." He talked about God. He talked about God's sons and daughters. He talked about God's world. Everything Jesus described--the first rays of sunlight, birds nesting, an old woman giving her little bit of money in the temple; whatever he listened to--spring water flow-ing, a baby's cry, musicians at a wedding feast; things that he could smell and taste--the freshness of a spring rain, the rich flavor of wine; whatever he touched--the mud to put on a blind man's eyes, the coldness of a young man's dead body, the warmth of John's embrace, or the lock-tight hold of Mary Magdalen on -Easter morning: every-thing spoke to him of the wonder of each of God's creatures, but even deeper down the wonder and beauty of God. And so Jesus could tell simple stories about seeds and growth, about wedding banquets and joy, about being neighbors and doing good to battered strangers Every time, in every instance, he is talking about God and our dealings with God. There is a Latin verb--conversari~-which means "to turn in relation with" and thus "to interact with," "to have dealings with," "to engage," or "to converse with" (our English word conversation obviously derives from it). In the light of this Latin derivation, we might say that all R~iew for Religious. our conversation--all our "talking"--is much broader in meaning and takes in all our dealings with others. Jesus was an evangelizer in all his dealings with the men and women of his time. Every incident in the Gospels is a picture of Jesus evangelizing--engag-ing people in the divine context of their lives. What does that say about us as Jesus' followers? To be evan-gelizers we do not have to go off to school and get degrees in theology. We do not have to exile ourselves to another country. All we need do is deal with the people in our everyday world the way Jesus talked and dealt with the people in his ~veryday world. He presented to each person a new quality of life; he uncovered divine values beneath the surface of all our human dealings. But for us to act in such a way implies that our world and the events in our lives speak of God to us so that we can speak of God to others. Like Jesus, we have to become aware of a world alive in God. Isn't that an essential to the good news which we live and speak about and deal with others about? John Paul has stressed repeatedly that we are being called to a new evangelization. Today we call our effort a "new evange-lization" because our educated world seems so ignorant of Jesus' way bf seeing (seeing deeper down) and because we ourselves, whatever our vocation in life, whatever our age, whatever our tal-ents and .education, are newly conscious of our responsibilities to preach the good news. For us to be Christian, to be like Jesus, we must be missionary; we must be evangelizers. How do we, neophyte evangelizers, start to live in Jesus' world? By reading the Gospels. Throughout the rest of this year. dedicated especially to Jesus, we need to set an agenda for our-selves of reading the Gospels through--slowly and over and over again. We need to let their words, their stories, become the warp and woof of our lives. We will be imbibing Jesus' way of being an evangelizer. We will assume more and more a stance of dealing with people in Jesus'. kind of world--a world alive in God. Like Jesus, we will be doing our part in making ourselves and our world come alive.in God. Like Jesus, we will be preaching good news to the "poor," that is, those who have so little a sense of God's pres-ence permeating their everyday world. David L. Fleming sJ 3~uly-August 1997 prayer RICHARD J. HAUSER Evoking the Spirit: Reflections on How to Pray Students in my graduate spirituality classes frequently ask about the most effective method of prayer for attaining union with God. They ask whether centering prayer from The Cloud of Unknowing is more effective than lectio prayer from the Benedictine tradition. (Lectio prayer is short-hand for lectio-meditatio-oratio-contemplatio prayer, a method from the 12th century for praying with Scripture.) Recently claims have been made for one method over the other. I am uncomfortable with assumptions behind such ,questions: that a method is necessary, that one method is more effective than another, that the effects depend upon our activity. After teaching methods of prayer conscien-tiously for years, I have been led by experience to soften my assertions about the use of method. My uneasiness regarding methods relates primarily to people's almost Pelagian lack of awareness 6f the role of the Holy Spirit, in any method of prayer or spiritual dis-cipline. The basic question for all spirituality is how we ¯ integrate our human effort with the role of the Spirit. Pope John Paul's 1986 encyclical, "Lord and Giver of Life," offers an apt response. Reflecting upon the Gospel of John and Christ's promise.to send ;another advocate to take his place, the pope summarizes the Christian tradition Richard J. Hauser SJ is chair of the Department of Theology at Creighton University and director of its graduate programs in theology, ministry; and spirituality. This is his tenth article for our journal. ,His address is Creighton University; 2500 California Street; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. Revie'w for Religious. on the Holy Spirit as sanctifier: "The redemption accomplished by the Son in the dimensions of the earthly history of human-ity-- accomplished in the 'departure' through the cross and res-urrection- is at the same time, in its entire salvific power, transmitted to the Holy Spirit: the one who 'will take what is mine'" (§11). The pope echoes Vatican Council II's emphasis on the Holy Spirit by insisting we adequately understand Christian vocation only when we understand the role of the Holy Spirit: the entire effect of the redemption is brought about by the Holy Spirit. We post-Vatican II Christians are challenged,to renew our theolog-ical models of the church, of the self, and of spirituality in light of our renewed understanding of the work of the Holy Spirit--an understanding all but lost before the council. And we are then challenged to renew every spiritual discipline, including personal prayer. The Spirit and Vatican II: Shift in Models One shift in models concerns the church. In recent decades we have witnessed two different, ~ough complementary, models of church. Each model assigns a distinctive role to the Holy Spirit. (Since I am a Roman Catholic, my primary understanding of church is that of my own tradition, but I have learned that my insights are applicable to Protestant traditions as well.) In the first model the Holy Spirit is indeed present in the church, but the church is seen primarily as an institution governed by hierarchi-cal authority--for Catholics: priests, bishops, pope. The Holy Spirit guides the institution through the hierarchy, and the hier-archy, especially the local priest, guides the people. The institu-tion rests secure because an infallible guidance in faith and morals was promised to it. In the second or Vatican II model, the Holy Spirit is present in the church, but the church is seen as the peo-ple of God, the entire community of believers, head and members united in the one Body of Christ. While continuing to guide the church corporately, the Holy Spirit also guides the members indi-vidually. The following excerpts from chapter 1 of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) highlight this truth elegantly. The Spirit dwells in the church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple. In them he prays and bears wimess yuly-A ugust 1997 Hawser ¯ Evoking the Spirit to the fact that they are adopted sons. The Spirit guides the church into the fullness of truth and gives it a unity of fellowship and service. He furnishes and directs it with var-ious gifts, both hierarchical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of his grace. In order that we may be unceasingly renewed in him [Jesus], he has shared with us his Spirit, who, existing as one and the same being in the head and in the members, vivifies, unifies, and moves the whole bod);. Another shift in models is related to the church as the Body of Christ and concerns the nature of the self. Christians are dis-covering anew a central element of the New Testament message: the role of the Spirit within the self. Before Vatican II this role was virtually absent from our consciousness; now it dominates theo-logical consciousness. The plethora of books on the Spirit and spirituality in recent years are a sign of this. What is the role of the Spirit within the self?. Our treatment of this topic must begin with the Last Supper discourse in John's Gospel. Jesus is comforting his disciples, having told them of his imminent departure. But now I am going to the one who sent me, and not one of you asks me, "Where are you going?" But because I told you this, grief has filled your hearts. But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. (Jn 16:5-7, revised NAB here and throughout) Jesus assures them it is better for them that he'goes; the, Spirit he sends will take his place, guiding and strengthening' them in their mission. Indeed, this union with himself through the Spirit is the condition for apostolic effectiveness. The Gospel could not be more clear: Remain in me, as I' remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so nei-ther can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are °the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing. (In 15:4-5) Jesus' prediction is fulfilled at Pentecost when the Spirit descends on the community. The Acts of the Apostles gives wit-ness to the working of the Spirit in the apostolic church. Note the difference in the disciples before and after the coming of the Spirit. Review for Religious Among New Testament writings the epistles of Paul are a most eloquent witness to this power of the Spirit--a power he received only after his conversion to Christ at Damascus. For Paul, belief in Jesus with the subsequent infusion of the life of the Spirit is the source of all power. It is a new principle of life. Paul contrasts it with the flesh and its tendency to sin. But you are not in the flesh; on. the contrary, you are in the spirit, if only the Spirit of God dwells in you. Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the spirit is alive because of righteousness. If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you. (Rm 8:9-11) This principle of life infuses the Christian community, form-ing one body, the Body of Christ, with every member united and animated by the Spirit. As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit. (1 Co 12:12-13) A note on the activity of the Spirit in the self: The Holy Spirit joins our human spirit; it does not replace it. We humans enjoy three modes of activity flowing from the three dimensions of our being: physical, psychological, and spiritual. It is helpful to imag-ine three concentric circles: the center is the spirit, the middle is the mind, the outer is the body. Every human activity engages all three levels. Our physical and psychological activities are obvious to all. But what are our spiritual activities? The spiritual level is the level of our freedom, our freedom to respond to the Spirit or not to respond. The Holy Spirit joins our human spirit, initiating within us the desire for goodness~without the Spirit's presence we would nbt even have the desire. Responding to the Spirit, then, transforms the other levels of our b.eing, the physical and the psychological. The Spirit is the principle for all Christian life. Traditionally this indwelling of the Spirit has been called sancti-fying grace. Personal prayer--like every spiritual activity--is a response to the Spirit. An important corollary flows from this truth: We can trust our inner selves. At our center we have God's Spirit to guide us. .l~uly-Aug'ust 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit Previous approaches to spirituality did not adequately acknowl-edge that presence. Commonly they taught that the self cannot be trusted because of fallen human nature and inherited original sin. This inherited brokenness so dominated our consciousness that we undervalued the power of redemption from sin. Since we could not trust this inner self, it became necessary to look outside our-selves for external guidelines. Contemporary approaches, too, acknowledge human brokenness--hence the emphasis on dis-cernment of spirits--but they also acknowledge the real effect of Christ's redemption. We have been freed from the slavery of sin; therefore, we can trust our inner selves. Grace in us is stronger than sin in us. Frequently we Christians have substituted fidelity to prescribed formal prayers--morning and night prayers, meal prayers, divine office, prayerbook formularies--for a more inte-rior response to the Spirit. Unfortunately, the Vatican II theological renewal concerning the Holy Spirit has not yet permeated popular consciousness thor-oughly. Many of us live within a different model of the self, which I will call the Western model because I recognize that it dominates the approach to God of many in the Western Hemisphere, In this model God is solely transcendent--in heaven--and so not dwelling within the self through the Spirit. This God in heaven is not readily seen as the initiator of good actions. Though the Western model duly acknowledges that we are made to know, love, and serve God in this life and so be happy in the next, it tends to give God no role in these actions until after they are performed, when rewards of grace are given in this life leading to the reward of heaven in the next. In this model, people tend to see themselvesas the initiators of their own good deeds, including personal prayer. Sanctifying grace is often erroneously under-stood as the treasury in heaven of merit earned by good works on earth. This Western view of self is not taken from the New Testament, but rather absorbed from several aspects of our culture. Our culture is secular. Our .view of the self tends also to be sec-ular; we do not recognize God's presence within us and its influ-ence on our inner motivation. At best we give intellectual assent that through baptism we receive sanctifying grace and so God is with us, but this notion of God's presence does not tend to affect our daily motivation. Our culture is also capitalistic, and financial rewards are conditioned on performance; we presume God gives Review for Religious spiritual rewards the same way, rewarding the just with grace--and perhaps even material prosperity--and withholding these rewards from the unjust. Our culture is individualistic. We prize inde-pendence and eschew any dependence, even finding dependence on God's grace demeaning. Without giving it much thought, we just presume we earn our salvation as we earn everything in life: by our own hard work. This view has disastrous effects on our understanding of how to pray: since the Spirit is not present within us, prayer cannot be a response to the Spirit, Another shift in models concerns spirituality itself. Unfortunately, we Christians have not drawn out implications of the Vatican II-renewed models of the church and the self and applied them to our practice of spirituality or to our personal prayer. Christian spirituality is a response to the Spirit. Today attention has shifted from performing spiritual disciplines (like prayer) externally to responding internally to the Spirit pres-ent in our hearts. Paul teaches his Jewish communities that they have been freed from subservience to the 613 Mosaic laws and are now called to respond to an inner law: "Now we are released from the law, dead to what held us captive, so that we may sePce in the newness of the spirit and not under the obsolete letter" (Rm 7:6). This truth also highlights the inadequacy of the Western-model understanding of good actions as self-initiated and emphasizes the scriptural teaching that~all good deeds are Spirit-initiated. Prayer and service not flowing from the heart do not fulfill Jesus' commandment of love. The Gospels present Jesus as hav-ing the most difficulty with a group of people who perfectly ful-filled all the commandments externally: the Pharisees. Jesus refers to them as whitened sepulchers. Externally they kept the com-mandments, internally they violated their very essence: love. Luke's parable on the Pharisee and the tax collector going to the temple to pray calls attention to the centrality of one's heart in prayer. The Pharisee boasted of his fidelity in keeping all the commandments, emphasizing his superiority to the tax collector. "But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, 'O God, be merciful to me.a sinner.' I tell you, the latter went home jus-tified, not the former; for everyone who exalts himself will be Grace in us is stronger than sin in us. Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted" (Lk 18:13-14). Previous approaches to spirituality often seemed more con-cerned with the external performance of prayer and service than with the quality of heart underlying them. Indeed, we usually examined our consciences in terms of sinful actions performed or omitted. For instance we focused not on whether we hated our neighbor, but on whether we performed hateful actions. Likewise we focused not on whether we praised God at Sunday Mass, but on whether we fulfilled our obligation by being physically pres-ent- our dispositions were irrelevant. Luke's presentation on the love commandments catches the quality of heart central to spirituality. Recall that the questioner was coming from a mentality that focused on the external obser-vance of many Torah-related precepts as central to observant Jews. Jesus, however, echoes the simpler injunction from the same Scriptures: "Teacher,'what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus said to him, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?" He said in reply, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." He replied to him, "You have answered correctly; do this and you will live." (Lk 10:25-28) We should recall that love is always a response to the Spirit: love in us originates with God in us: Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God; everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love . Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another. No one has ever seen God. Yet, if we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to per-fection in us. (1 Jn 4:7-8, 11-12) The Spirit and Spontaneous Prayer How does the above apply to how we pray? that is, to what we do when' we withdraw individually to be with the Lord? I will begin with our commonest experience of prayer, spontaneous prayer, prayer outside of formal prayer times. Prayer itself I describe simply as "the movement of the heart toward God under the influence of the Holy Spirit": no heart movement, no prayer. Review for Religious (Prayer cannot be identified with either words we say or thoughts we think; indeed, prayer need not be accompanied by either words or thoughts. In Christian tradition the deepest prayer transcends both.) The movement occurs only when we are "under the influ-ence of the Holy Spirit." When we are not in touch with the Spirit, we cannot respond to it. The movement of the heart under the influence of the Spirit is "toward God." The Spirit moves us towards the Father and towards Jesus. As Christian theology sees the Spirit as the bond of union between the Father and the Son in the Trinity, so the Spirit is our bond of union with the Father and Jesus. In the communion of saints, the Spirit unites us also with Mary and the other saints. We on earth are united with them as they now are in heaven, where they continually love and praise the Father and Jesus. There they can be pri;cileged intercessors for us. With them we move toward communion with the Father and Jesus. A note about the purpose of prayer: Often we unreflectively assume that prayer is for the pur-pose of seeking specific favors from God. Deeper reflection, however, reveals that in prayer we are really seeking a confirmation of God's love for us. The purpose behind all our prayer is a deeper communion with the Father and with Jesus. Though we may be led to prayer for many different reasons, as we continue praying we eventually realize that our deepest need is for God's presence and support: the Spirit has transformed our initial desires. The process is not unlike Jesus' transformation in the Garden of Gethsemane. He initially seeks to have the chalice removed, but ends yielding to God's will and presence. I believe we experience over and over again the truth of Augustine's excla-mation "Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee." In prayer there are many levels of .communion, of experienc-ing God's presence. The very desire for God's help is already a rudimentary experience of communion, even though the desire may be interspersed with distractions. The desire is real, but at this level the Spirit has not yet transformed other dimensions of the self. At a deeper level the movement toward God in prayer may be accompanied by tranquillity and peace. The Spirit makes us aware that the world is in God's hands, and we rest in the secu-rity of our relationship with our loving Lord. This is the usual In prayer we are really seeking a confirmation of God's love for us. ~uly-August 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit experience. But, at an even deeper level, the Spirit so unites us to God that we lose conscious awareness of our communion with God. During the momentary experience itself, self-awareness recedes, but we are able to reflect upon the experience afterwards. The experience leaves a residue. The residue is described as wholeness, joy, contentment. Reflection on my own prayer experiences leads .me to a sur-prising conclusion (one I would not have made ten years ago): I find my heart drawn to God as frequently during spontaneous prayer as during the times I set aside for formal prayer. I have noticed that certain conditions foster these experiences--am I describing for myself a method for spontaneous prayer? The times and places are important. On schooldays the expe-riences occur mostly in the evenings after I have completed my day's work. Having put aside preoccupation with projects, I either take a leisurely walk around the campus or sit in one of my favorite places, such as a secluded university garden or the fountain-piazza in front of the church. On weekends the experiences can occur anytime, provided I have put aside preoccupations with work. I must give myself enough time for the experiences to occur--min-imally fifteen minutes, ideally a half hour--and must never be rushed. These experiences of spontaneous prayer, especially as they occur in natural settings, have affected my retreats and vacations. I now choose places for my annual retreats primarily for their setting. I find that my heart moves to God through nature in spontaneous ways that thoroughly refresh me. I consider the for-mal reflections characteristic of retreats as no more important than simply enioying the Lord's presence in nature. In these places God gives me the insights I need for my life. For my annual vaca-tions, too, I choose settings that facilitate spontaneous prayer. I see vacations as similar to retreats, as times for being re-created by God's presence, not simply as times to be distracted from my daily life. I find myself breaking into spontaneous prayer also at other times during the day. Most commonly this occurs after a partic-ularly successful class or during a walk down the campus mall. on an especially beautiful day. And it occurs when I am faithful to times of formal prayer. I believe we sensitize ourselves to the Spirit's presence during formal prayer, making it more likely that prayer will break forth spontaneously during daily activities~ Review for Religious The Spirit and Formal Prayer Only after discussing spontaneous prayer do I feel comfortable discussing formal prayer. Recall that formal prayer refers to time specifically.set aside for personal prayer. The question about the merits of centering prayer and lectio prayer makes sense only in the context of formal prayer. What method of prayer should we use to facilitate responding to the Spirit and reaching commu-nion with God? Remember that our role is to provide the condi-tions for responding to the Spirit. We all have our own rhythms for maintaining union with God. The observations I make here are attempts to share what has been working for myself. They do not imply that this is the way it should be done. Since we humans are complex beings of body, mind, and spirit, it is important for us to 0 find our own personal ways of getting our bod-ies and our minds ready to respond to the Spirit. The following patterns work for me. Time, place, and setting are important. First, the time. After rising, showering, shaving, and getting a cup of coffee, I light a candle and begin a period of sixty to ninety minutes. I sip the coffee and do some journaling; then, putting the coffee aside, I pray the morning office; finally, I move to personal prayer for the last twenty to thirty minutes. I never rush, spending as much time journaling as needed. It.clears my head and allows me to process what has built up in my psyche, matter which could emerge as distractions in my prayer. Often journaling provides the topic for the subsequent prayer. Next, the place. I pray in my own room, in a chair next to a large window that looks eastward over the secluded garden I men-tioned above; the chair, facing my prayer wall, is upholstered and comfortable, but supports me firmly in an upright position. On a side table are all the things I need: my journal, a Bible, the daily office, a lectionary, meditation books related to the liturgical season. I love this room, away from my offices. The window, open in warm weather, gives direct access to the sights and sounds of the garden and to the warmth and light of the rising sun. My prayer wall is hung with favorite icons, prints, and crucifixes gathered over the years; I rearrange it for the various liturgical seasons and feasts. Physical details are key: the time, the place, the furniture and furnishings. The regular rhythm of entering this environment at I believe we sensitize ourselves to the Spirit's presence during formal prayer. July-August 1997 Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit this time each day not only helps one to be receptive to the Spirit, but often occasions immediate communion with the Lord. Given the desire for communion with God, praying can be simple: just find the right time and place and go there regularly! Prayer methods, too, can dispose one to receive the Spirit. The methods of lectio prayer and centering prayer differ. Lectio prayer is a response to God's presence in the word. The word of God has many meanings. God is present in the scriptural word; traditionally most have found this to be the most helpful starting point for prayer. God is also present in the word of creation; some find focusing on God's presence in the beauty of nature a more effective beginning. God is present in the existential word as well; many find focusing on God's presence in the events and people of their lives the most effective beginning. But all aspects of cre-ation- images, poetry, music--are words of God and possible starting points for prayer. God is present in all of reality, sus-taining it in existence and using it to bring us into communion: "Creation proclaims the glory of God." In lectio prayer we choose an aspect of God's word to focus our attention; and then .we wait, listen, and respond to that word--under the influence of the Spirit. Our effort is to attend to God's word and, as much as pos-sible, avoid letting our attention be drawn toward distractions. In lectio prayer we are led by the Spirit toward a progres-sively deeper response to God's presence in the word. Frequently the dynamic is from thinking (meditatio) about God's presence~in the word, to praying (oratio) to God in response, to simply rest-ing (contemplatio) in God's presence without either thinking about God or even consciously praying to God. Guido II, a 12th-cen-tury Carthusian abbot, gives the classic expression of the internal dynamic of this prayer: You can see., how these degrees are joined to each other. One precedes the other, not only in the order of time but of causality. Reading (lectio) comes first and is, as it were, the foundation; it provides the subject matter we must use for meditation. Meditation (meditatio) considers more carefully what is to be sought after; it digs, as it were, for treasure which it finds and reveals; but, since it is not in medita-tion's power to seize upon the treasure, it directs us to prayer. Prayer (oratio) lifts itself up to God with all its strength and begs for the treasure it longs for, which is the sweemess of contemplation. Contemplation (contemplatio) when it comes rewards the labors of the other three; it ine-briates the thirsting soul with the dew of h~avenly sweemess. Review for Religlous Reading is an exercise of the outward senses; meditation is concerned with the inward understanding; prayer is con-cerned with desire; contemplation outstrips every faculty. (Guido II, Ladder of Monks, Cistercian Publications, 1978) The goal of the process is contemplation which "outstrips every faculty" and rests in communion with God unmediatated by our own activity. Our activity recedes; God's increases. God holds us close with little or no effort on our part. An image, adapted from Abbot Thomas Keating, helps us understand the process. The Spirit is the river; the word of God the boat; God the ocean. We live in the river (the Spirit). In prayer we allow the Spirit to direct our attention to the boat (the word of God). Focusing on the boat, we move with the boat into the ocean (God). Quite similar to this is the dynamic of spbntaneous prayer. Some aspect of God's word catches our attention. Through the Spirit we respond and are brought into divine communion. Centering prayer is quite different from lec-rio pra~er. It is based bn the truth of God's pres-ence in the center of our being, beyond the level of thoughts and desires. It presumes the scrip-rural model of the self. In centering prayer we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. The method, taken from the 14th-century English classic The Cloud of Unknowing and popularized by Trappist Fathers Keating, Pennington, and Menninger, is simple. We choose a favorite appellation for God, such as, "Father," "Abba, Father," "Jesus," "Lord," "Rabboni." We begin prayer with this "prayer word" and simply sit in faith and love before God. We do not begin With any reflections about God flowing from the word of God; we simply are in faith before God. Our goal is to be totally receptive to the Spirit so that it can hold us in communion. Interior silence, is the matrix for our receptivity. Keating's advice for handling thoughts is simple: Resist no thought, react to no thought, retain no thought; simply return to the. prayer Word. Note that we do not return to this word unless a thought arises. Thoughts inevitably arise and we let them pass, returning to the prayer word. Thoughts even have a positive qual-ity to them because, as we let them pass, ,;re are removing from In centering prayer we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. ff~uly-Auffust 1997 Hauser ¯ Evoking tbe Spirit our psyches obstacles to the contemplative communion with God; they are actually part of the purification process. Handled well, they move us toward interior silence, that is, nonattachment to thoughts. Eventually thoughts may recede and we can be before God in faith with little use of the prayer word. Once you grasp the fact that thoughts are not only inevitable, but an integral part of the healing and growth initiated by God, you are able to take a positive View of them. Instead of looking upon them as painful distractions, you see them in a broader perspective that includes both interior silence and thoughts--thoughts that you do not want but which are just as valuable for the purpose of purifi-cation as moments of profound tranquillity. Vghen everything in the unconscious is emptied out, the kinds of thoughts that were~passing by in the beginning will no longer exist. There is an end to the process of purifi-cation. Then the awareness of union with God will be con-tinuous because there will be no obstacle in our conscious or unconscious life to ~interfere with it. (Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Open Heart, Amity House, pp. 112 and 102) The goal of the process is contemplation which outstrips every faculty and rests in a communion with God unmediated by our own activity--the same goal as that of lectio prayer. The image of the river (the Spirit), boat (the word of God), and ocean (God) is helpful. Remember that we live in the river (the Spirit); in centering prayer we simply move in the river directly into the ocean (God).The prayer word is not a boat; we do not use it to support thinking (meditatio) and loving (oratio) as in lec-tio prayer. The prayer word serves only to symbolize our inten-tion. The Spirit brings us directly into communion without reflection on the word of God. ~ A third method should be discussed, mantra prayer. Its assumptions and dynamics are similar to those of centering prayer. It enters the Christian tradition formally in the 5th century in the Conferences of John Cassian. In mantra prayer, too, we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. But we come to prayer with a previously chosen mantra, not merely with a prayer word. We begin prayer slowly repeating dae mantra, coordinating its four phrases (separated by asterisks) with our inhaling and exhaling. (Most authors, but not all, suggest coor-dination with breathing). Cassian notes that the desert fathers preferred: "O God * come to my assistance * O Lord * make haste Review for Religious to help me." The most famous.mantra in the Christian tradition, however, is the Jesus Prayer that arose among the Greek fathers in the 5th century: "Lord Jesus Christ * Son of God * have mercy on me * a sinner." Any phrase can serve as a mantra. I frequently recast scriptural passages into mantra form. Among my favorites: "The Lord * is my shepherd * there is nothing * I shall want"; "You are my servant * whom I have chosen * my beloved * with whom I am pleased"; "I am the vine * you are the branches * with-out me * you can do nothing." The method for handling thoughts is similar to that of cen-tering prayer. When thoughts occur, we simply let them pass and return to the rhythmic repetition of the mantra. This repetition is the matrix for our receptivity to the Spirit. Our effort in this method is to let pass all thoughts that occur and to return to the repetition of the mantra. We do not reflect upon the mantra, but simply use it as a way to focus our minds and symbolize our inten-tion to pray. (If we begin reflecting upon the. mantra itself, we have switched from mantra prayer to lectio prayer.) As we become still, we may want to drop parts of the mantra or even the entire mantra. We may use only the appellation "Lord" to symbolize our intention. If this occurs, we have moved from mantra prayer to centering prayer. But, in any case, the goal of all these methods is contemplative union with God which "outstrips every faculty." The holy men of the Orthodox Church see the essential task of the Christian life as being to restore this unity to man with a mind and heart integrated through prayer. The mantra provides the integrating power. It is like a harmonic that we sound in the depths of our spirit, bringing us to an' ever-deepening sense of our own wholeness and central har-mony. It leads us to the source of this harmony, to our cen-ter, rather as a radar bleep leads an aircraft home through thick fog. (John Main, Word into Silence, Paulisy Press, p. 15) The Best Method of Prayer? Praying is an art, not a science. The goal of all prayer meth-ods is communion with God. Since only the Spirit can bring about this communion, our role ,is providing conditions conducive to our receiving the Spirit. Communion remains a gift. I once believed--erroneously--that my conscientious use of a particular method guaranteed good results in prayer. There is no best way to pray. Through trial and error we individually discover what works best for ourselves. The following reflections about formal prayer July-~lug~tst 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit present what has been working for me, but may not be helpful for everyone. Sometimes no method is needed. Frequently, after lighting my candle, settling into my prayer chair, sipping my coffee, and doing some journaling, I find myself already close to God with no further effort needed on my part, so I stop journaling. I am already centered; no method is needed. Perhaps my journal writings have brought to mind some blessing, some word of God, from the pre-vious day. The blessing becomes the occasion, the sacrament, for awakening consciousness of God and for resting gratefully in God's presence. The Spirit moves me from gratitude to commu-nion and contemplation. All I know is that I have no desire either to reflect upon or pray over the blessing. Or perhaps the jour-nalings have recalled a need which then becomes the occasion, the sacrament, for awakening consciousness of dependence on God and resting in silent acknowledgment of my helplessness without God: "Be still and know that I am God." Occasionally while I am journaling, saying the office, or doing my personal praying, my attention is caught unexpectedly by something in the garden outside my window: the sun rising through the trees, the song of a bird or the rusde of leaves, the fra-grance of blossoms, the wind blowing. Then I have no desire to continue reflecting Or praying: I find myself held close by God-- I am centered. Nature has become the sacrament occasioning communion with God and contemplation. Frequently my attention is caught by an icon or print on my prayer wall, the Vladimir Madonna, perhaps, or Fra Angelico's Annunciation, or a photograph of the Vatican Museum's 4th-cen-tury sculpture of the Good Shepherd. In the various liturgical seasons I may be especially caught by Hicks's Peaceable Kingdom, Gorgione's Adoration of the Shepherds, Perugino's Crucifixion, Fra Angelico's Noli Me Tangere. I believe the Spirit offers seasonal graces. Sometimes a combination of prayer methods is helpful. If I have not experienced the drawing of the Spirit toward communion and contemplation during journaling and the morning office, I readily choose lectio prayer. Usually something from the previous day or one of the readings from the office presents itself. Sometimes I look over a seasonal meditation book, reading alit-tle and then putting the book aside to see how the Spirit will move in me. Meditation books are helpful as starting points, but Review for Religious then we need to be sensitive to our own inspirations, to the exis-tential word of God as we ourselves experience it in our own lives. We need to wait in God's presence, listen to God's speaking through the word in my heart, and respond in the way the Spirit moves us. We speak only in response to the Spirit and only after we ha~;e listened. The goal of prayer is resting in a communion with God that is beyond thoughts and desires. When I reach this peaceful state, I find it helpful to switch from lectio prayer to mantra prayer. I use the mantra to keep my mind occupied and prevent distractions from arising. The gentle repetition of the mantra sustains my intention. At this point I am held to God by God with virtually no effort on my part. This restful state is often referred to as the prayer of quiet. This beginning contemplation is marked by con-scious awareness and enjoyment of God's presence. But sometimes this reflective consciousness recedes and we enter momentarily an even deeper state of contemplation. We become aware of this special grace only when we return to reflective awareness. I often move from mantra prayer to centering prayer. After a period of mantra prayer, I may find the mantra unnecessary and even bothersome. My faculties are quiet; I am centered. Using a simple prayer word, I move in faith and love toward God. When distractions arise I let them pass, renewing my intention by my prayer word, all in response to the Spirit. We speak only in response to the Spirit and only after we have listened. Evoking the Spirit God made us to be fulfilled in communion with the Father and Jesus through the Holy.Spirit--a fulfillment expressed both in prayer and in service to our neighbor. The Spirit in us yearns always for this fulfillment. In formal prayer we consciously attend to our relationship with God; ~n Sl~Ontan60us prayer it just hap-pens. Both are identity experiences, both are "movements of our hearts to God under the influence of the Spirit." The prayer expe-rience is the experience of our deepest identity; complex methods ought not get in the way of this basic yearning, of our being. I believe that all methods of Christian prayer are somehow related to one another. .~dy-,qug~st 1997 L3-S-7- Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit Each of us has the challenge of discovering how the Spirit is moving within us to help us experience our deepest identity. We ought never be discouraged. No matter how disturbing and pre-occupying the external events of our lives may be, we can always pray because we have been given the Spirit to help us in our weak-ness. I think Paul had his own tumultuous life in mind--and per-haps also Jesus' experience in Gethsemane--when he wrote the following words to the community in Rome, a comraunity expe-riencing persecution and even death for their faith in Christ: 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.~And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the holy ones according to God's will. (Rm 8:26-27) AMORALTHEOLOGIAN'S REQUEST¯ Professor Germaln Gnsezas beg~nmng to work on the fourt~i volume of his systemau9 treatment.of moral theolo, gy ennded The Way of the Lord Jesus. ThiS,final volun~e will troat~thE i'esp0hsibilities proper to women and men lbiing the coiasecrated life and to men who have been ordained as deacons, priests, or bishops. He seeks a~dv~lce from those whose responslbdmes he will be ~eating. To stimulate reflection tfe proposes'some questions: - What Would you expecl~ of the book ] am undertaking? What is a ~bmpa~:able resource yod Can~ think of and Would recommdnd,to a no,ice or a seminarian? ¯ What moral problems'do religious or clerics sometimes experience that are never touched on by magisterial documents and~ perhaps, seldom or never discussed in., books and journals? ~ . ¯ What rec~nt books and/or ~a_rticles have y9ufound "" ¯ especially helpful?~, ~ ¯ ,~,~,* Besides obvious ~6pics such as obedience and virginity or, celibacy for the kingdom's sake, what Other matters sh6uld I~onsider? : - ¯ ~3esid~s stu~13?ing~relevant paSs~ag~ in Scripture and. - " rele~cant magisterial docunient~,of the.tweritieth century, o whatother sources should I use?~ " Any communication he reEeives will be kept in .~tfictest confidence. All real cases used as examples in the book will be fictionalized to safeguard.~ privacy Please contact: Germain Gi'isez; Mount Saint Mary's College; En~mitsburg, Ma~land 21727, USA. Review for Religious JUDY ROXBOROUGH Liturgy of the Hours: Path to Integration Rilar Feliu STJ, former superior general of the Teresian sters, once described the Liturgy of the Hours as the frame that encloSes our day. Like the frame of a painting, our common prayer time can radically change the way we perceive the day as we look forward to it at Lauds, and back on it at Vespers. Bringing our lives to prayer through the Hours can effect far more than bringing a new perspective or adding a rosy tone' to our view. It can also be the channel for the powerful working of the word of God, which is "living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword" (Hb 4:12). Encountering in a prayerful setting the psalms and other scripture texts again and again through the cycle of the seasons, allows them to work on us, "penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow,., to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart." Perhaps the image of a loom is more appropriate than a simple frame, for through the Hours run the threads of the word, and the threads of our lives, which can be woven together into a fabric both beautiful and whole. The Liturgy of the Hours is the frame on which we can discover unity and wholeness, helping us to integrate our lives. The first task at Lauds is to become engaged in the act of prayer. For some of us this may not be .an automatic event. At times I have found myself physically present at Lauds, perhaps Judy Roxborough STJ, a sister of the Society of St. Teresa of Jesus, has been a computer programmer in rocket-data analysis, meteorology, and telephone-circuit simulation and also an editor. She is currently involved in her first love, teaching, at Sacred Heart School in Uvalde, Texas. Her address is 343 North Crisp Street; Uvalde, Texas 78801. t-3- 9 July-August 1997 Roxborougb ¯ Liturgy of the Hours even mentally present, but somehow not engaged. I haste not tuned in to the act of prayer, the fundamental attitude of wor-ship. It is as if I were racing the engine, but in neutral. With the clutch disengaged, the highest octane gas is not going to produce one foot of forward motion. And so it seems with prayer when we are not engaged--nothing happens, in spite of all the proper rituals and words. For me it is often something from .without that calls me into prayer--a word of introduction, a song, or perhaps a line from a psalm engages me and leads me into prayer. When this happens, I am integrated into prayer, into the moment, and into relationship with my Creator. My focus changes as once again I realize the simple truth that I am creature entering into praise of my Creator. This shift in focus is the narrow doorway through which I can encounter the divine. The Liturgy of the Hours also provides a way of bringing.us a deeper .awareness of the passage of time, not just in a chrono-logical sense, but as sacred time: time as participation, together with the universe, in God's plan of salvation. The cycle of the Hours, praying Lauds at sunrise, Vespers at sunset, helps to inte-grate us with the rhythm of the day. We find our place in the diur-nal cycle. The day begins at Lauds, and in a sense the whole day becomes present as we look towards it. This is the proper moment to consecrate the day to God, to invoke the Spirit, to ask for a blessing on all that we will do, to form within our hearts the inten-tion to serve God well this day. At Vespers the day is again pres, ent--in memory--and is gathered together in thanksgiving. Whether we have succeeded or failed, found joy or sorrow, there is thankfulness that God has brought us through the day, never abandoning us. Vespers joyfully remembers, gives thanks, cele-brates, and offers the day back to God, with a sense of completion. Through the celebration of the seasons, we also find our place in the liturgical year. Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, ordinary time, and special community feasts all give us reference points within the flow of time. The simple act of becoming aware of the season in a prayerful setting helps us to become more inte-grated in time. Just as the priest puts on vestments to celebrate the Eucharist, so do we put on the season thr.ough the Hours. The mood and nuances of the season become our own. P~rticipafing in the season in this wa.y heightens our own sense of wholeness and of being at one with the world we' dwell in. This is especially meaningful in a society which anticipates seasons for commercial Review for Religious purposes, discarding them as soon as their monetary potential has expired. In many ways, as we have become insulated from natural surroundings, we have lost much of our connection with seasons, and the Liturgy of the Hours helps to mend this separation. At times we commemorate special moments of our lives in the Liturgy of the Hours: personal milestones, community feasts, civil occasions. This too helps bring unity to our lives, putting the milestones in Christian perspec-tive, forging new bonds as we each cel-ebrate our unique heritage, and making connections with the stream of civilian life. In a different sense we may find a new integration in time through the repetition of the psalms themselves. I may be struck for the first time with an application of a psalm to some event of the past. Suddenly both the psalm and the event become fresh for me and acquire new meaning. The psalm becomes my own (integrating my life with Scripture), and the past is inte-grated with the present.as it is reinterpreted in the context of the whole. This process is like weaving, going back to pick up the old threads of our lives and weaving them together with the new. The fabric of my life becomes a little more whole; time itself is being redeemed. The past is not lost forever, but brought back, cleansed a little, purified a little, healed a little, as it is brought to prayer and we discover God moving within those bygone events. The very act of praying together with the community has aspects of integration. The community chooses an hour for prayer, often one that few actually find optimal. Nevertheless, we com-mit ourselves to this time, integrating our desires and needs as community. Our physical presence at community prayer enfleshes and symbolizes our commitment to be one, a commitment that will demand a little dying from us each day. The intercessions that we offer also provide an opportunity for further integration within the community. To the extent that we are willing to bring our petitions to God beftre our brothers and sisters, to the extent that we are willing to hear their interces-sions and hold them in our hearts, to the extent that we are will- Our physical presence at community prayer enfleshes and symbolizes our commitment to be one, a bommitment that will demand a little dying from us each day. ~7~tly-Augttst 1997 Roxborou~b ¯ Liturgy of the Hours ing to pray earnestly for one another, making one another's bur-dens our own, we deepen our community life. Here is a wonder-ful opportunity to risk loving one another in community by sharing our concerns, our needs, our failures; by accepting the concerns, needs, and failures of others. Our union with the entire Body of Christ is also strength-ened as we pray the church's own prayer. We join with all the church in praying the psalms, in celebrating feasts and seasons, in lifting up our hearts to praise God for the resurrection, in thank-ing God for the day. In daily intercession we pray with and for the church, just as we do for our own needs~and for those of the com-munity. We expa~nd our horizons to the whole church, indeed, to all of humanity, through prayer. We can give a voice to the voice-less as we offer prayers of praise and petition on behalf of all those who cannot pray, those who do not know how to pray, those whose hearts are hardened against prayer. When we speak to the Lord on behalf of others, we share their burden~ and find com-munion with them. This communion, the fruit of prayer, is a grace for us, a gift that brings us to our rightful relationship.with our brothers and sisters, a relationship that allows us to become more whole, more human. Our prayer with and on behalf of others is not limited to our fellow Christians, nor even to all humanity, but includes all of God's creation. We are voice for the whole universe, awaiting redemption: "Creation awaits with .eager expectation the revela-tion of the children of God; for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who sub-jected it, in hope that creation itself would be set free from slav-ery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now" (Rm 8:19-22). All creation is groaning, crying out for redemption. The universe itself suffers the wounds of sin and alienation and yearns for healing. We can become voice for all creatures, for all creation, in our prayer. When we lift our voices in praise or petition to the Creator, we offer praise and petition on behalf of all creatures, all creation: .birds and fish, trees and rocks. The same psalms that we recite proclaim the praise of God's silent ones: . Let the rivers clap their hands, the mountains shout with them for joy. (Ps 98:8) Let the plains be joyful and all that is in them. Review for Religious Then let ~ill the trees Of the forest rejoice. (Ps 96:12) You mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars; You animals wild and tame, you creatures that crawl and fly; You kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all who govern on earth; young men and women too, old and young alike. Let them all praise the LORD's name, for his name alone is exalted, majestic above earth and heaven. (Ps 148:9-13) The untilled meadows also drip; the hills are robed with joy. The pastures are clothed with flocks, the valleys blanketed with grain; they cheer and sing.for joy. (Ps 65:13) In becoming voice for the speechless, we find union with cre-ation, and in that union we also find our creaturehood, so that we can become more the persons we are called to be: creatures, redeemed, proclaiming God's goodness, There is a wholeness and unity suggested here, a sense of peace deriving from this kind of connectedness to the whole of God's world. To make that con-nection, even for a few moments of prayer, spins another thread that can help bind the wounds of separation for ourselves, for our communities, for "our world. Indeed, the hour we spend praying the Liturgy of the Hours offers us a path toward wholeness. Speechless In wordless psalmody I watch the sun strike golden fire atop the trees. A finite moment stills Infinity, emboldens a dare to spell a sunrise ignited by Divinity. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 3~dy-Aug~lst 1997 spiritua direction STEVE R. WIGALL What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority? One of the most debated issues in the literature of spiri-tual direction is that of the spiritual director's authority. Some argue that it is improper for spiritual directors to wield authority over their directees. They see the author-ity that has been traditionally and historically invested in the role of the director as a problem to be apologized for and avoided. Others view spiritual directors as people who properly carry a divine authority by reason of their being gifted by God to be divine instruments in directees' lives. This article surveys thes~ arguments and suggests an alter-native way of understanding the issue. Authority Is Negative Numerous articles and books begin their discussion of spiritual direction with an almost embarrassed effort to avoid, or at least redefine, the classic terms spiritual guidance or spiriiual direction. The Reverend Peter Ball, canon of S~. Paul's Cathedral in England, writes about his discomfort with both words, spiritual and direction. He considers them ambiguous and liable to be misunderstood. He expresses particular concern that the word direction implies "a sense of authority, even authoritarianism." After Steve R. Wigall is a Presbyterian clergyman and a candidate for the Th.D. degree at Boston University School of Theology. His address is 296 Lowell Street; Lawrence, Massachusetts 01841. Review for ReIigious all, he says, "a director directs, steers, is in charge. Directions are orders. You are supposed to comply with them, to obey." l William Barry and William Connolly, too, find spiritual direc-tion an awkward term: "The term spiritual direction unavoidably suggests to people of our contemporary Western culture a spiri-tualism and an authoritarianism that sound theology and psy-chology must repudiate." The fear they express is that the classic terms guidance and direction describe a practice that places exces-sive authority in the hands of the director) Green agrees that a director should not be given too much authority. He insists that the director's role with the directee must be only that of a "co-discerner" of God's voice? Doherty addresses the same concern by insisting the director should be merely the directee's friend.4 Schneiders insists that the spiritual director must exercise no authority at all over the directee. She writes that the director is just a companion whose role is to point the directee to God, but who in no way speaks, to the directee in God's name. The director-directee relationship, she writes, is fraternal or sis-terly, rather than parental,s She goes on to argue that it is invalid for the director to take an authoritarian role or to set the direc-tion of another's life, since people must exercise that responsibil-ity themselves. The director, she states, does not and cannot give direction, but merely helps directees find or discern God's direc-tion for themselves.6 Authority is Positive Other writers are less hesitant to describe the role of the director as one of authority. Guenther, for example, argues that the role of the spiritual director cannot possibly be one of mutuality and friendship. She writes that spiritual direction is essentially a hierarchical relationship in which the focus is not meant to be shared, but is to be on the directee.7 Bots and de Vries agree'that a spiritual director is not a spiritual friend. The image of friend-ship, they contend, places too much emphasis on the human aspect of the relationship and not enough on the role of the Holy Spirit.s William McNamara, who runs a spiritual retreat center in Sedona, Arizona, attributes to the spiritual director the high authority of a spiritual teacher, much like that of a guru in the Hindu tradition.9 Kallistos .Ware, like many writers who speak from the Orthodox tradition, describes the spiritual director as .y~dy-August 1997 Wigall * Wbat ls a Spiritual Director's Authority one to whom a directee gives trust and obedience, In Ware's view, the directee submits to the director's authority in order to avoid the ego trap of trying to make spiritual progress by self-will and personal effort.1° Those who invest the spiritual director with significant authority do so because they believe that God gifts and uses the director. Andrd Louf, for example, argues that a director is accorded authority as a spiritual elder because he or she is given a spiritual gift or charism by God, and that the charism enables the director to receive and impart God's authoritative word of guid-ance.~ 1 Sister Donald Corcoran explains that, in the Orthodox tradition, the authority of the spiritual director is based on the recognition that the spiritual director is a person in and through whom God works. Directors, she states, are called spiritual father or mother because they are used by God, in parentlike manner, to engender, convey, and nurture spiritual life in their directees.~2 Looking back in history, we find many authors expressing this same confidence in the spiritual director's authority. St. Symeon the New Theologian, for example, taught that the directee should understand that, because of the director's God-given gift, "fol-lowing [the director] . . . is following Christ." This is not, as Blessed John of Avila says, that directees should "subject [them-selves] to another person. [or] confide in. a person alone." The directee's confidence in the director's authority is based on his or her faith "in God, who will speak to you and strengthen you through another person."~3 Merton explains the original histor-ical reason for the authority that was accorded to spiritual direc-tors: He writes that historically the authority of spiritual directors was based on a recognition of their charism and that--when the first hermits went out into the desert, leaving behind established Christian communities--they exchanged the hierarchical guid-ance of their bishops for the guidance of the spiritually gifted.~4 An Alternative Perspective Obviously, some are comfortable investing the spiritual direc-tor with divine authority, while others are not. The question of authority is approached from different perspectives. Authority is seen as something negative by those who believe in egalitarian relationships and by those who are concerned about avoiding its abuse. Authority is seen as positive by those whose worldview is Review for Religious hierarchical and by those who are concerned about avoiding chaos and disorder. There are legitimate concerns on both sides ofithe authority question. I suggest that, when we look at the concerns that are dis-cussed under the ~bric of the spiritual director's authority, two fundamental questions can be found at the heart of this debate: (1) Does the director see and acknowledge the Holy Spirit as the authority for and source of his or her ministry? and (2) Does the director's ministry set the directee free to follow where God is truly leading? Ouestion One: Corcoran is a good example of an author who argues that Christ's Spirit is the Christian's one and only spiritual director. She points out that, while othe~ religious traditions have master-disciple relationships in which the disciple obeys the authority of an earthly master, Christianity does not have an equivalent relationship. Christ still lives. His Spirit is still pre sent with and within each of his followers and is still the one master of every Christian disciple. Christ's Spirit, says Corcoran, is still the Christian's only authority.Is Because Christ is the Christian's one true spiritual director, the only authority a human spiritual director can have is derivative. This insight is cru-cial to the debate over the spiritual director's authority. Whether spiritual directors claim to speak with God!s authority or claim to .be merely spiritual friends who point their directees toward God, it is crucial that directors acknowledge to themselves and to their directees as well that God and God alone is the central authority in their life and ministry. Question Two: St. John of the Cross, along with St. Teresa of Avila, stands at the head of the great Carmelite tradition of spir-itual direction, one which is not the most laissez-faire of traditions. Yet St. John is an outstanding example of those who champion the freedom of the individual directee. In The Living Flame of Love, John strongly advocates that each directee needs to be granted the freedom to follow God's Will. Those who are born of the Spirit, he says, are wildly free and need to know that God alone is their Lord and guide.~6 This second insight is crucial t6 Those who invest the spiritual .director with significant authority do so because they believe t hat God gifts and uses the director. ~dy-August 1997 Wigall * What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority the debate over the spiritual director's authority. No matter how spiritual directors understand or carry their authority, a more important question by far is whether and to what degree spiri-tual directors are able to set the individual directees free to follow the unique path along which God is leading each one. How spiritual directors envision their own authority is deter-mined to a large extent by the theological tradition and the cul-tural context within which they operate. One director may be comfortable claiming to be a spiritual abba or aroma or a spiri-tual elder; another may be more comfortable claiming to be a spiritual friend. Both sides of the authority question can benefit from realizing that the important issue at stake in this matter is not so much how spiritual directors conceptualize their authority; rather, it is how they answer the two questions raised in this arti-cle, both of which refer to the crucial underlying matter of the quality of the director-directee relationship. These two questions also directly relate to the issue of authority. However, they shed light on the practice of spiritual direction in a way that the'debate over the authority of spiritual directors has failed to do. I suggest that what underlies the concern for affirming the director's authority as God-given is the question of whether direc-tors acknowledge their dependence on God's Spirit. I suggest that the question of whether they protect and assure their directees' freedom is what underlies the concern for limiting the director's authority. Both of these questions represent concerns that relate to the director-directee relationship, and both are essential for spiritual directors to address. No matter how spiritual directors understand their authority, they need to deal with these two issues, They need to acknowledge openly their submission to God's authority. And they need to set their directees free to seek and follow Gdd. Notes 1 Peter Ball, Journey into Truth: Spiritual Direction in the Anglican Tradition (London: Mowbray, 1996), pp. 4-5. 2 William A. Barry and William J. Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (Minneapolis: Seabury Press, 1982), pp. 9-11. 3 Thomas H. Green, Opening to God (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1977), p. 49. 4 Rose Marie Dbherty, "Doing Spiritual Direction in a Group," Praying 29 (March-April 1989): 6-7. Review for Religious s Sandra Marie Schneiders, Spiritual Direction (Chicago: National Sisters Vocation Conference, 1977): 19-20, 47-48. 6 Schneiders, "The Return to Spiritual Direction," Spiritual Life 18, no. 4 (Winter 1972): 275, and "The Contemporary Ministry of Spiritual Direction," Chicago Studies 15 (Spring 1976): 123. 7 Margaret Guenther, Holy Listening: The Art of Spiritual Direction (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Cowley Publications, 1992), p. 3. 8 Jan Bots and Piet Penning de Vries, "On Spiritual Direction," Review for Religious 40, no. 4 (July-August 1981): 496. 9 William McNarn~ara, "Psychology and the Christian Mystical Tradition," in Transpersonal. Psychologies, ed. Charles Tart (New York: Harper and Row, 1975), pp. 408, 425. ,0 Kallistos Ware, "The Spiritual Father in Orthodox Christianity," Cross Currents 24 (Summer-Fall 1974): 296. 11 Andr~ Louf, "Spiritual Fatherhood in the Literature of the Desert," in Abba: Guides to Wholeness and Holiness, East and West, ed. J. Sommerfeldt (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1982), pp. 38-40. lz Donald Corcoran, "Spiritual Guide: Midwife of the Hig,her Spiritual Self," in Abba, ed.J. Sommerfeldt, 356-357. 13Jerome M. Neufelder and Mary C. Coelho, eds., Writings on Spiritual Direction (Minneapolis: Seabury Press, 1982), pp. 18-19. 14 Thomas Merton, Spiritual Direction and Meditation (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1960), pp. 3-4: is Donald Corcoran, "Spiritual Guidance: The Role of Spiritual Directors in Christian Spirituality," in Christian Spirituality, ed~ B. McGinn and J. Meyendorf (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1995), pp. 444, 448-451. 16 Joel Giallanza, "Spiritual Direction according to St. John of the Cross," in Spiritual Direction: Contemporary Readings, ed. Kevin G. Culligan (Locust Valley, New York: Living Flame Publishers, 1983), p. 202. July-Aug~tst 1997 SHAUN McCARTY Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction Cdonfidentiality is a critical consideration in a spiritual-irection relationship as well as a serious ethical impera-tive for the director.-This derives from the nature and history of spiritual direction, which deals with the most intimate levels of a person's life. The topic, theh, merits careful cqnsideration. I intend to e~xpl0re: (1) the nature of confidentiality; (2) why it is critical for the spiritual-direction relationship; (3) some legal considera-tions concerning its observance; (4) the relative merits of church regulation of this ministry to protect the confidentiality rights of the one :guiding and the one guided; and (5) an alternative to out-side regulation in dealing with the need for the exercise of a' responsible ministry of spiritual direction. Nature of Confidentiality "Confidentiality" has to do with keeping secrets. Something is "confidential" when a private matter is imparted in secret. "Confidence" carries the sense of firm belief in, reliance on, and assurance of another keeping trust. "Confiding," then, assumes a trusted "confidant." A "secret" is a hidden fact which may not be divulged, whether it be a fault or even something good that needs protection, for example, inventions or special recipes. There are three kinds of Shaun McCarty ST, currendy on a sabbatical, l~as been director of Trinity Ministries Center for several years. He writes from 1733 Metzerott Road; Adelphi, Maryland 20783. Review for Religious secrets: (1) A "natural" secret, in which the obligation to secrecy arises from the nature of the case, for example, deeply personal matters spoken of within close human fellowship or matters whose revelation would in some way injure or displease another (such as defamatory gossip). (2) A "promised" secret, which is to be kept, not by the nature of the case, but because of one's subsequent promise not to reveal the matter; the obligation arises from fidelity to one's declared word, but does not apply to useless or inane matters. (3) An "entrusted" secret, wherein the matter is revealed on the condition (whether explicit or implicit) that it will be kept secret. A special kind of entrusted secret is referred to as a "pro-fessional" secret; it obliges doctors, lawyers, the clergy, and some others by reason of their professions. This is the most binding secret of all. It is with this privileged category of professional secret that spiritual direction is concerned. Those bound to secrecy include not only the director, but all those'who may become privy to it, such as supervisors, consultants, and supervi-sory and peer-supervisory groups. The Necessity of Confidentiality Confidentiality is an imperative that arises from the need for discretion in matters where serious harm may come to self, oth-ers, or communities. People have a right to privacy. Confidentiality is a practical demonstration of reverence for the personal, inti-mate, and sacred values of another person. There is also a need on the part of both individuals and the public at large for a climate of freedom and trust wheri it comes tb seeking help that involves the revelation of confidential material. Vital to the effectiveness of guiding, helping, . and healing professions.are these elements of freedom and trust. Few events can be more destructive or preclusive of contin-ued help than the violation of trust and loss of such freedom of exchange. Not only is a violation of confidentiality destructive of the relationship with the person who divulges personal informa-tion, but it often can make the person betrayed wary of ever entrusting anyone else with similar confidences. It leaves deep wounds that are a long time healing. Some mention should also be made concerning the damage done to the integrity, reputa-tion, and future effectiveness of the one revealing the confidence. It can compromise that person's integrity and credibility for the ~dy-Aug~st 1997 McCart~ ¯ Con~dentiali~ Issues in S~iritual Direction future. The matter of confidentiality is of special concern in a ministry as sensitive as spiritual direction, for it is especially dependent upon the establishment and maintenance of that trust-ful silence so vital to open dialogue. In Catholic circles especially, spiritual direction has tradi-tionally been distinct from, yet closely akin to, sacramental con-fession and the confidentiality surrounding it. Spiritual direction is referred to as belonging within the "internal, nonsacramental forum"; sacramental confession, the "internal, sacramental forum." Exceptions With the exception of sacramental confession (and, as some would hold, spiritual direction), some secrets may be revealed under certain circumstances. A basic axiom in regard to most secrets is: The more important the secret, the greater the reason needed to reveal it. The obligation to secrecy ceases ordinarily when (1) there is permission from the one who owns and reveals it; (2) when it has already been disclosed by others; (3) when there is sufficient reason to avert a greater evil, that is, to avert a grave danger to the common good or serious harm either to a third party or to the person revealing it. It is permissible to discuss confidential material in consulta-tion with a prudent third party while at the ~ame time taking care to protect the anonymity of the person revealing it--unless that person objects. In regard to spiritual direction, such a likelihood should be discussed and agreed to when the initial working rela-tionship is negotiated. As with the revelation of secrets, it is,also unethical to probe into secrets unless for a serious reason and by using just means. The fields of investigative journalism and criminal investigation have in recent years brought public attention to the ethical ques-tions of both what may be investigated and what methods may be used. Some Legal Considerations In the United States there are civil and ecclesiastical laws both protecting and restricting confidentiality that may some-times be in conflict or simply inadequate.~ Review for Religious Traditionally, constitutional decisions of the Supreme Court have deferred to ecclesiastical law, not wishing to interfere with the free exercise of religion which is protected under the religion clause of the first amendment of the United States Constitution. As a consequence, not only has the confidentiality concerning sacramental confession by an ordained Catholic priest been respected, but likewise the legal right to keep priv-. ileged communications confidential has been afforded to clergy of other traditions. Though they vary from state to state, statutes con-cerning the "clergy" privilege are part of each state's rules of evidence. Under them the fundamental rule is that the public has a right to every person's evidence. Privileged communications are an exception and must meet certain restrictive requirements. While "minister" is usually interpreted in a strict sense, that is, one who is ordained in the church, the parameters of this clergy priv-ilege vary from state to state. In familiarizing oneself with particular statutes, there are some questions that need to be asked such as: Who qualifies as a member of the "clergy"? What types of communi-cation are covered? What do the statutes require in terms of the regulation of the ministry of spiritual direction by a given church, denomination, or community? What must be the expectation of the one making the communication? What must be the nature of the relationship between the 'spiritual director and the one mak-ing the communication? 2 There have been conflicting decisions in the courts concern-ing those not ordained who are consulted as spiritual directors and who have claimed clergy privilege. In a case arising in 1971 in New Jersey, a Catholic sister was cited for contempt for her refusal to testify in a murder trial of a former pupil for whom she had been spiritual director. She claimed the statutory privilege allowed by New Jersey law protecting the confidentiality of those authorized by her church as a minister of spiritual direction. Her plea was rejected because counsel was unable to find anything in Catholic doctrine or practice that would give her the right to claim privileged communication? More recently, in 1985, a sister in Missouri refused to make a deposition concerning a plaintiff because of a previous relationship as spiritual director and was granted the clergy privilege by way of extension,4 The more important the secret, the greater the reason needed to reveal it. 37zdy-August 1997 2VlcCarty * Confutentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction ~ As more recognition is given to nonordained people who are nevertheless exercising ministries such as spiritual direction, it might be hoped that clergy privilege would be extended further. Yet legislators and courts, understandably and for obvious reasons, favor restriction of privilege when it comes to withholding evi-dence. In recent years, even pre~;iously recognized clergy privilege has been abrogated in many states with reference to child abuse. ~ Ecclesiastical law in the Roman Catholic Code of Canon Law (1983) carefully protects the secrecy of material confided in sacra-mental confession (cc. 983-984),,but has little to say with direct reference to the nonsacramental ministry of spiritual direction, in which.a growing number of nonordained people have become involved. As previously noted, civil law will generally respect the provisions of ecclesiastical law. Given the absence of specific eccle-siastical recognition of spiritual direction in the ministries of the church, it is difficult to discuss the rights of the nonordained in reference to privileged communication. Both official recognition and outside regulation of spiritual direction are problematic. There are some who have advocated regulation of this min-istry by ecclesiastical law to protect people from civil- and crim-inal- law requirements.5 They suggest that special guidelines, standards, or even statutes be created by denominations and reli-gious communities to protect members from having to divulge confidential information obtained in spiritual direction. Such statutes would call for defining spiritual direction as ministry, establishing it as an office in the church requiring certain quali-fications, providing for the presentation or selection of candi-dates, and making a statement concerning confidentiality that includes specified exceptions. If this course of regulation is fol-lowed, it has been suggested that such statutes or policies be pro-posed on an interfaith basis. This takes into consideration that frequently the spiritual director and the directee do not belong to the same denomination. So as to protect the rights of the confidant, such regulations would provide for no waiver of confidentiality on the part of the one confiding.: The regulations would be clear and consistently implemented. It has been further proposed that they would also include confidential communications received in pastoral coun-seling. and other nonsacramental ministries in which information is communicated in an atmosphere of confidentiality. Such regu-lation has benefits and deficits that will be dealt with later. Review for Religious There has been some inclination for courts to recognize the right of~nonordained spiritual directors to withhold privileged communications. (Of all the states at the present time, Illinois seems to have legislation most consistent with ecclesiastical pro-visions, even though it limits the privilege to those accredited by the religious body.6) However, for now at least, it would seem that spiritual directors may not assume that th4y can successfully claim clergy privilege in a civil court.7 To Regulate or Not to Regulate? On the one hand, it would seem beneficial for churches and communities officially to recognize and to regulate ministries of spiritual direction. On the other hand, though laws protect, they also tend to con-trol and thus hinder freedom. Regulation would have the advantage of gaining church recognition of the min-istry of spiritual direction. This would seem to make it more likely that the civil authorities would recognize privileged communications made to the nonor-dained, thus providing more legal protec-tion for those involved. In addition to official recognition of a ministry, it would also, seemingly, render malpractice and other forms of litigation less likely in that regulation would require evi-dence of a person's competency to be a spiritual director, would make statements of policy, and would provide for sanctions. On the negative side, with regulation there wouldbe certain trade-offs. Regulations would bring tighter outside controls to what has traditionally been more of a free and charismatic ministry. Recognition of bona fide spiritual directors has.come to a large extent from local faith communities in which people gifted for the ministry have been recognized and sought out, and much less from the approval of some institution, often at a distance from the local scene. Every ministry need not be created into an office. Moreover, regulation raises the question of who determines qualifications, policies, sanctions, and the like. Would such reg-ulation not raise the further complication of limiting the choice of directors to denominations recognized by the regulating agency? I would wonder whether, with the growing number of Both official recognition and outside regulation of spiritual direction are problematic. L3-75-- j%dy-August 1997 McCarty * Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction malpractice suits, a regulating agency might be more liable for suits brought againsf an "approved" or "licensed" director. Such suits tend to go after the "deep pockets" of agencies having affin-ity with the individual. What Is the Alternative to Outside Regulation? Without a doubt, there is need for responsible stewardship in the exercise of any ministry and especially spiritual direction, which deals with the deepest and most delicate matters of a per-son's interior life. But, instead of regulation from the outside or from above, is it not,preferable for provisions and standards to come from within agencies preparing people for this ministry and professional societies supporting and challenging people in their practice of it? Laudable efforts at self-regulation by such groups as Spiritual Directors International, perhaps, have greater promise of balancing freedom with responsibility in exercising a respon-sible stewardship. Ethical and moral guidelines developed in this fashion are apt to call for even higher standards of professional-ism than would legal restrictions or an external regulating agency. Such guidelines would be concerned not just with confidentiality, but also with other important issues such as: (1) help in discern-ing whether one is genuinely called to exercise this ministry; (2) careful preparation and enrichment that would include pertinent understandings, processes, skills, and supervision; (3) encourage-ment: for ongoing education and formation in theological, scrip-tural, psychological, and other related disciplines; (4) maintenance of integrity in the role of spiritual director with regard to time, frequency, place of meetings, and so forth; (5) recognition of lim-its of competency in making or declining to make referrals; (6) avoidance of fostering emotional dependency; (7) ongoing assess-ment of each spiritual-direction relationship; (8) measures of accountability such as insisting that spiritual directors also receive spiritual direction and individual or pee~'-group supervision; and, most of all, (9) keeping, in the relationship, the focus on the per-son's God-relationship. Needed: A Poised Balance In this article we have explored the nature and necessity of Confidentiality in the ministry of spiritual ,direction and also some Revie~ for Religious legal considerations affecting its practice. We have considered some pros and cons of official recognition and outside regulation of this ministry. Hopefully, these considerations underscore the need for faithful stewardship in maintaining a poised balance between freedom and responsibility in the exercise of a ministry that calls for both sacred silence and public accountability. One who goes shopping for a product is cautioned: "Let the buyer beware!" Perhaps it is also wise advice for those seeking official recognition or outside regulation: "Let the seekers beware and proceed with caution!" We need open ears and closed mouths as we fulfill a sacred trust. Notes ' R.P. Stake, "Professionalism and Confidentiality in the Practice of Spiritual Direction," The Jurist 43 (1983): 214-232. z Stake, 227. 3 Stake, 228. 4 D.K. Iopollo et al., Confidentiality in the United States: A Legal and Canonical Study (Washington, D.C.: CLSA, 1988). s Stake, 231-232. 6 Iopollo, pp. 60-61. 7 Stake, 229. Wild Things Wild strawberries in the grass, tiny spots of red amid the green. One does not always understand how the wild things grow, rooted and strong though appearing fragile. So am L Lord, a wild thing, eager to grow anywhere, but there are times when the wind's so strong and it rains so hard and long that my weakness shows. Virginia Skrdlant SHCJ j%dy-August 1997 SEAN D. SAMMON Psychology: An Aid to Religious Formation psychology At the outset, let ug set the record straight: Psychology can be a help or a hindrance to formation for religious life. In the right hands it becomes a valuable tool for help-ing young people take up the life and mission of their congregation or institute. Its findings and principles can assist men and women religious in the middle years, too, and those of us facing the inevitable diminution that comes with age. Psychology, however, can also tyrannize us. In the wrong hands and incorrectly applied, it can lead to exces'- sire self-involvement and give rise to less than adequate preparation for today's demanding apostolic life~ With all that said, this admission must also be made: In some quarters of religious life, considerable suspicion continues to .exist about psychology and its practitioners. While in some instances good reason may support such wariness, in others it might very well be unfounded. This article will explore a possible place for psychol-ogy in initial and ongoing formation. There is nothing magical about the science of psychology. It is made up of many schools of thought, and its pr~actitioners engage in the same kind of debate as researchers in other human sciences do. Psychology is also a young science and, as Sehn D. Sammon FMS is vicar general of the Marist brothers. His address is Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.P. 10250; 00144 Rorna, Italy. Review for Religious such, struggles still to find its place among those other sciences with longer and more established traditions. In spite of its many and varied approaches to the human per-son and its rather brief history, however, the findings of various schools of psychology--when correctly and appropriately applied--can assist formators in calling forth apostles for today. While formation is always the Lord's work, at the present time the~ fruit of the hard labor of some people in the mental-health field might be able to help us in a number of areas. Let us consider, for example, three specific and pressing ini-tial and ongoing formative challenges and examine how psychol-ogy may help: (1) educating for a healthy sense of our sexuality and life of celibate chastity, (2) preparing for the interpersonal chal-lenges found in today's ministry and community, and (3) deepen-ing our self-knowledge so as to ensure that some of our less than sterling motives~ do not interfere with the action that the Lord wishes to take through us. Before we address these issues, though, let us examine a few of psychology's tools and critique their pur-ported power. Psychology Is No "New Priesthood" Every profession has its rituals. Doctors, attorneys, teach-ers-- all have certain agreed-upon methods, principles, points of view. If, for example, you visit a doctor's office with a sore throat, a persistent cough, a headache, chills, and other aches and pains, you expect the physician to carry out a thorough examination and perhaps order some tests in order to diagnose correctly a head cold or pneumonia. Both conditions are treatable; the appropri-ate remedies, however, are different. Psychologists also have their rituals. Testing is one of them. Is there anything magical about the Rorschach test, the Thematic Apperception Test (TAT), the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI), the Reitan battery, or other somewhat more culture-free instruments? Not really. Psychological testing will unearth little more than a perceptive person w0uld find out about another after a year or so of living together. Ask yourself this question: Do many months have i:o pass before you realize who is selfish, self-centered, generous, even-tempered, moody, very intel-ligent, and so forth, in any new community you join? What test-ing does is .give us this information more quickly. July-August 1997 Sammon ¯ Psychology Findings from testing can be of great help to any candidate for religious life and to his or her formators. IL for example, testing tells me that I am overly sensitive, opinionated, rigid, and stub-born-- well, then I have some grist for the mill of formative direc-tion. On the other hand, test results will also tell me about my strengths: my intellectual level, my ability to manage life's chal-lenges. Such findings are powerful allies in the work of forma-tion, for both the candidate and formator. Apostolic religious life has for years judged the admissibility of candidates by three general criteria: at least average intelli-gence, good judgment, and adequate physical health. A medical examination provides information about the last item; psycho-logical testing can help with the first two, To avoid pitfalls in testing, however, one should know, for example, how the test was normed. Obviously, an instrument that used a population of middle-income, midwestern United States citizens to establish its scoring criteria needs to be normed anew before being applied to candidates for religious life in Asia, Africa, Europe, and Latin America. Psychological examiners also need to be well acquainted with religious life and its values. How else will they be able to write a helpful report and provide feedback that encourages rather than hinders the process of formation? Before men and women in lead-ership or formation engage a psychologist to carry out the psy-chological assessment of a candidate or a member of the province, they need to be sure that the examiner understands and respects the values and commitments that are integral to religious life~ Formators also need to know the place of psychotherapy. This can be essential to growth for some members of a province or congregation, but psychotherapy cannot be the very mode of for-mation, even though a formator's accompaniment or direction may have therapeutic aspects. The psychotherapeutic relation-ship is different. It involves, for example, a different kind of per-sonal privacy for the client. If I am a psychologist in a therapeutic relationship with a client, I have no right to reveal anything disclosed to me in that relationship without the client's expressed and written permis-sion. The only exceptions to this rule are the laws in certain juris-dictions that mandate the reporting of some disclosed actual or anticipated criminal behavior such as child sexual abuse or homi-cide. The strict right to privacy that governs therapy allows clients Review for Religious to unburden themselves without fear of reprisal or judgment on the part of the therapist. That right must be protected. Formative direction or accompaniment is, in my opinion, dif-ferent. I prefer the word mentoring to describe this relationship. Mentors are like older brothers or sisters, persons close in age but with more experience. Mentors help younger people--and at times contemporaries and older folks--to identify the dreams in their life and to give those dreams a place in that life. Mentors are both parents and peers, and not exclu-sively one or the other. They offer example, challenge, acceptance, counsel, and at times friendship. The following distinction between a therapist and a mentor might help clarify their differing roles. Therapists, in general, do not disclose to clients information about their own personal lives. In contrast, an accompaniateur (a companionable guide) or person doing'formative direction might often enough use a per-sonal example to encourage the person being directed, to chal-lenge him or her or illustrate a point. Do accompaniateurs and those doing formative direction, then, need to be psychologists to be effective? Of course not. Do they need adequate and up-to-date information about human devel-opment and its principles? Absolutely. Most accompaniateurs can also benefit from having at hand a mental-health person to help with advice or to provide supervision when needed. To insist that every accompaniateur or person doing formative direction be a psychotherapist, however, misses this important reality: religious formation is a spiritual and not a psychological journey. Religious formation is a spiritual and not a psychological journey. Education for a Healthy Sense of Human Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Celibate chastity is in trouble today. When a colleague, friend, student, or family member asks us why we are living a life of celi-bate chastity, we respond quickly: For the sake of the kingdom, to love everyone and not just one person, to be more available. Then we pause and hope that there will be no more questions.~ The vast majority of us in religious life' have had inadequate education about human sexuality and celibate chastity. How many Sammon ¯ Psycholo~ of us, for example, recognize the important distinction between sexuality and genitality or realize that celibate chastity cannot be equated with asexuality?. Celibate chastity is a particular way of liv-ing out my sexuality. Today, more than before, psychology can provide us with realistic information about our human sexuality, information that will also help us to grow in our appreciation of our life of celibate chastity. God can be held responsible for passing out sexual energy. Just as we have spiritual energy, so also we have sexual energy. For what purpose? Our sexual energy draws us into relationships with other people and with our God. For some of us it might come as a surprise to learn that. the purpose of sexual and spiritual energy is the same: union with God and with others. Any adequate program of education for celibate chastity would do well to include information about the factors that advance or impede healthy psychosexual development. In addition, we could benefit today by some additional frank discussion about sexual orientation, masturbati~)n, intimacy in relationships (and the dif-ferent expectations of men and women in this latter area), and the spiritual foundation for celibate chaste living. During our religious formation many of us were warned about "particular friendships." Stop for a moment now and consider that phrase, Then ask yourself this question: Is there any other type of friendship than a particular friendship? I do not think so. Obviously, this preoccupation with particular friendships was often at the heart of past concerns about sexuality: a fear that . people might lose control of one very powerful part of their lives. We need to be quite clear about this important point: All of us must make decisions in life about our human sexuality. Married people, single and single-again people, celibate chaste people--no ¯ one escapes the process of decision making. For our peace of mind, the decisions we make need to be in keeping with our val- . ues and commitments. If I am a married man, for example, and I )want to remain faithful to my wife, I will have to set some limits in other important relationships in my life. If any of us believe that we do not, from time to time, have to make some difficult deci-sions about how we will channel our sexual energy, we are living in a dream world. Psychology can assist us in our education about .human sexu-ality. Furthermore, studies made of stages of growth in lives of celibate chastity2--~ith its fidelities and failures can help all of Review for Relig4ous us appreciate the wonder of this way of being a sexual person. Paradoxically, in the end psychology can help us understand that to be at home with our life of celibate chastity we must ultimately face what it means to be a spiritual person. Most of us are quite at ease when talking about the place of poverty and obedience in our lives. While we might not always agree on the day-to-day specifics involved in living out these vows, we can, without too much difficulty, discuss their place in our lives. Psychology and its current findings about human sex-uality might help us achieve the same ability to discuss celibate chastity. Interpersonal Challenge,s Found in Today's Ministry and Community Life Have you ever lived with a'chronic complainer? This simple test will help you decide if there is one in your life: When some-one comes to talk with you, does he or she generally sit down right away? You know the reason full well: they are going to be there for a long, long'time. The story of Jonah illustrates this: even God tired of such incessant whining! How about life with negativists--those people who, when faced with a new and hopeful idea, respond by saying "it won't work," "we tried it last year and it failed," and "those in charge around here are not intelligent enough to see to its implementation." Do stallers hold a prominent place in your life of ministry?- folks who ~iust could not make a decision even if your life and theirs depended on it. And what about men and women who with'- hold information unnecessarily so as to keep undue control of any situation? Realistic people do not expect their lives of ministry or in community to be altogether free of troublesome folks. There are, however, some individuals whose behavior can sap energy from us that would be better directed toward the work of the mission. Organizational psychology and some of its principles can teach us to cope with these difficult characters and their kissing cousins.3 With what outcome? So that all of us can get on better with the task at hand:'living together harmoniously and carrying out our mission in the church. Every community, too, passes through its own stages of growth.4 Some communities are healthy places in which to live, Jvdy-August 1997 Sammon * Psychology others less so. We have all participated in community meetings, for example, where the real meeting took place in small groups after the formal meeting had come to a close. Poor communica-tion skills, the lack of a vocabulary with which to discuss some difficult topics, a failure to learn ways to respectfully disagree with one another when necessary--all those factors can make life in community something other .than what it should be: a support to us in carrying out our mission. Psychology can help a community identify where it is in its own development and can suggest steps that can be taken to enhance its spiritual, ministerial, and interpersonal growth. Psychology can also help us develop the skills we need to live together more effectively and with genuine Christian charity. We all need a place to come home to. If our religious com-munities fail to be places where friendship is possible, human hnd spi~ritual support available, and the love that can exist between sisters, and brothers evident--well, then, who would freely choose to live this life? In many church ministries today, there are tensions. Sometimes it is tension between men and women. At times strife develops between priests and lay religious or between religious and their lay partners. Tension can spring up among members of any ministry team. If the level of tension in our ministry reaches a point where the mission is no longer being carried out effectively, the science of psychology can provide some specific help. More importantly, principles of psychology can. be used to nip in the bud any developing problem before it becomes something larger than life. 3-84 Self-kngwledge in the Service of the Mission Did you know that there is no such thing as a perfect family? There are good enough families--where 'the people and the place provide what we need for life, along with a push out the door so that life can expand--but, no, perfect families exist only in the imagination of some people. We take our families with us when we come into religious life. ~While its members may not be physically visible, they do participate in some way in every community meeting that we attend. Families shape and form us--for good or ill. We: also bring along to religious life what we learned about Review.for Religious ourselves while living in our family. In yours, for example, how was anger dealt with, was sexuality talked about openly, did disagree-ment give rise to alienation from the family at large? In some families, for example, members may stop talking to one another in the face of a disagreement or disappointment. In my family, for example, I realize in retrospect that expres-sions of anger were not encouraged. To signal that events were getting out of hand with me, my mother would often use the phrase "Sefin, be nice!" Though nowadays I pay less attention to it, still--when I am feeling angry, even at my present age--I hear her saying "Se~in, be nice!" Some of us suffer from low self-esteem. Simply put, we do not think we are worth very much. Low self-esteem is often the result of receiving information coming from my world through a series of faulty filters. Because of what we have been told about ourselves, some of us eventually come to believe that we are worthless or, at best, not worth very much. When people with low self-esteem make a mistake, for exam-ple, they suffer shame rather than embarrassment. Rather than learn from the error of their ways, they "beat themselves up" instead and insist that .they are bad people undeserving of any recognition or praise. We take our families with us when we come into religious life. Low Self-esteem a Threat to Effective Ministry Low self-esteem is a threat to effective ministry. Why? When our self-esteem is low, we begin to look to have our needs met by those we are called to serve. Eventually we need them more than they need us. When such a situation develops, we are no longer doing ministry. Rather, by our "serving" others we are promoting our own well-being, our own good feelings about ohrselve.s. Once again psychology can help us--towards enhanced self-esteem that is in the service of mission. Self-intimacy--a gift that often comes with mid-lifeS--helps us accept the particular and perhaps peculiar amalgam of bits and pieces that make up who we are. By mid-life we know full well that our motives for doing things in life are often mixed. Tha~: knowledge, in itself, helps keep us honest when it comes to ministry. Sammon ¯ PsycholoKv The Lord came for sinners and not the saved. At mid-life many of us feel more of a need to be redeemed than ever before. We have become distinctly aware of personal and social sin. But this self-understanding paradoxically enhances our self-esteem. This knowledge, in itself, helps keep us honest when it comes to ministry, helps us to carry out the Lord's mission free of illusion. Psychology and its principles can play an important role in this purification. Psychology Can Help In summary, then, psychology--used as one formative tool among many others--can be a friend to formators in religious congregations and institutes and an ally for mid-life and senior women and men religious in their ongoing formation. Today in particular it may help deepen our understanding about our com-mitment to celibate chastity, provide us with skills for greater effectiveness in ministry and a rich life in community, and help ~us grow in .greater self-awareness and self-acceptance in service of the mission of Jesus. If it does help a~complish these ends, that fact in itself will be a blessing beyond measure. Good psychology has more to do with self-transcendence than with self-fulfillment. It is not antithetical to the concept of sin, to admitting guilt, nor to penance and self-sacrifice. Rightly used, psychology leads to greater freedom of spirit and more effective ministry. Notes ~ Sefin D. Sammon, An Undivided Heart: Making Sense of Celibate Chastity (Staten Island, New York: Mba House, 1993). 2 A.W. Richard Sipe, A Secret World: Sexuality and the Search for CeJibacy (New York: Brunner/Mazel, Publishers, 1990). 3 Robert M. Bramson, Coping with Difficult People (Garden City, New York: Doubleday Anchor, 1981); Se~n D. Sammon, Don't Get Eaten for B~eakfast: Making Sense of the Impossible People in Your Life (forthcoming). 4 Rosine Hammett and Loughlan Sofield, Inside Christian Community (Jesuit Center for Human Development, 1981). s Se~n D. Sammon, Life afier Youth: Making Sen~se of One Man's~ourney through the Transition at Mid-life (Staten Island, New York: Alba House, 1997). Review for Religious ALEXANDER H. SMITH Mental-Health Consultation with Religious Orders Myental-health consultation has evolved over the past thirty ears in a specialty with a large body of literature on the process and technique, with diverse applications (Caplan and Caplan, 1993; R. Caplan, 1972; Altrocchi, 1972). Relatively few of these studies directly apply to religious orders, where their mem-bers have made lifelong commitments to membership and where the consultative process must be crafted to accommodate the unique features of religious life in a group setting. Mental-health consultation with a religious community requires a clarity of purpose at,times even more demanding than that in agency, school, or other ifistitutional setting. Within 'the community beats the heart of its spiritual tradition, one that pre-sumably drew its members, at least at a conscious level, to seek God and serve others. Beyond these oversimplified parameters, the climate of expected altruism and fraternal charity can paradoxically create the possibilities of boundary confusion, difficult limit set-ting, self-righteous entitlement, and exaggerated expectations of being understood and accommodated. Herein lie the often found tangle of inspired devotio0 and the all-too-easily-disillusioned psyche with its comple~es, hidden desires and aversions, power struggles, and longings. Not infrequently these very issues drive the community to seek assistance. Religious communities frequently experience a range of needs for outside help. The problems occur in group-level issues such Alexander H. Smith Jr., EdD, is a profession~il counseling psychologist. His address is 3150 Willis Avenue; Cincinnati, Ohio 45208. j~dy-August 1997 Smith * Mental-Health Consultation as conflict resolution, factioning, and decision making, They occur often to individuals as thorny personality conflicts and in groups as resistance to assimilating new tasks and letting go of old ones. Almost all communities have been faced with the problem of dwindling membership, including losses both of old timers and of new members who do not stay. Many communities are half the size they were thirty years ago, and few have found effective ways to integrate "then and now." Administrative talent varies across com-munities, and the management of the group according to its charism in this subculture of increased psYchological awareness is very challenging. Renewed individualism often stretches the best of minds to steer a course that supports the individual and the group as well. Most communities must cope with practical realities of day-to-day community life that become too hot to handle as a group. The community that approaches consultation in an informed way can realize more effective outcomes. The community's effort to make these course corrections with the consultant's assistance is best served when both the community and the consultant are familiar with what tO expect from each other. Such an informed recogni-tion of issues that are often unique to religious communities helps facilitate a more hopeful tone from inception to termination. The application~ of consultation to religious life appear to range from uninform~ed and sometimes naive "hacking" to highly competent psychological models that integrate diagnostic and intervention strategies from group process theory, models of con-sultation, knowledge of defense organization-in individuals and groups, and so on. This essay considers in very basic form these elements of effective consultation from the perspectives of both consultant and community in order to inform, to caution, and to encourage well-grounded principles and practices. What Type of Consultation Is Best for This Community? The consultant must help the community to select the appro-priate type of consultation. Caplan and Caplan (1993) have iden-tified four major ones: client-centered case consultation, consultee-centered case consultation, program-centered admin-istrative consultation, and consultee-centered administrative con-sultation. These me~hods differ in their targets of service delivery. Review for Religfous They were developed primarily for assisting other therapists work-ing with clinical populations, and they range across a spectrum of targets within a system from problems of an individual client to those of program development and organization. This model of reflective, "indirect" consultation differs substantially from that of organizational development where the focus is on team building, conflict resolution, and other modalities of more direct action methods (see Altrocchi). Two main types of consultation are probably most frequent for religious communities. These are consultation for individual cases where a mental-health issue has emerged, and administrative con-sultation where group-process difficulties need to be addressed. An adaptation of these principles to the :exigencies of life in religious communities is essential for both the consultant and for the com-munity. Usually there are crossing lines of communication, author-ity, and role functions, and the consultant must recognize that decision-making boundaries may be more fluid and that author-ity lines may vary from centralized to decentralized ones. More importantly, the nature of community life involves life commit-ments by its members to form and to maintain a group which supports its members' very livelihood. This reality requires that the consultant reconceptualize the consultation model as one which impacts not only service or "case management" in a work setting, but one which accommodates and supports the manifest structures .of a group whose very livelihood depends upon inter-personal competence and adherence to a task. The Alliance between the Consultant and the Community: Clarifying the Stated Purpose The initial phase of consultation includes the assessment of the community's tolerance for self-observation and for facing uncomfortable and at times painful issues. Some communities are more rigid than others. Some communities are more capable of examining attitudes, beliefs, and practices which interfere with accomplishing their stated aims. Some communities roll with the inevitable punches of difficult times and problematic personalities in a fairly relaxed way. Others struggle frequently, often appear-ing brittle and easily fragmented. The community's decision to seek consultation is rarely unan-imous; the events that lead up to the decision are themselves diag- ~dy-Aug'ust 1997 Smith ¯ Mental-Health Consultation The initial phase of consultation includes the assessment of the commumty s tolerance for self-observation and for facing uncomfortable and at times painful issues. ---.-390 nostic for the group and'for the consultant. The consultant who works with a religious order encounters a network of unique opportunities to assist individuals in a group. The consultant faces with the client community the same human foibles found in any organization. The! engagement with the community from its inception requires that the consultant maintain an integrity about the consultation. Often the initial request for consultation concerns unrecog-nized scapegoating. All group processes invariably include struggle with how to handle anger, disappoint-ment, and disavowed responsibility and therefore with the phenomenon of scapegoating. The process of scape-goating in religious life is surprisingly frequent. Historically it was often fos-silized in such matters as the status of lay brothers. A community's history with these major conflictual issues can be read ,off the contemporary problem foci, and the consultant can begin to read between the lines. For example, one community sought help about how to deal with a difficult member who was "conserva~ tive" and who would isolate himself from the rest of the communify, not participating in common prayer and work. The stated problem, of course, was to address the community's difficulty with its member. However, the com-munity had been chronically divided within itself about liturgical and dress practices. The community maintained the conflict for years by censuring any differentiation from the "new" majority norm. It had ironically created an authoritarian norm that resem-bled the very ones it prided itself for opposing in the larger cl~urch and had scapegoated "problem" members as they came through the ranks. The consultant initially should convey an acceptance of these problems as they are stated, while maintaining the accompanying desire to help the community in the most appropriate way possi-ble. The task here is to open the door to reasonable consideration of all the forces that define the problem as it appears to the com-munity and to be able to further negotiate the community's will- Review for Religious ingness to redefine it or "reframe" it in adaptive ways. In a way quite similar to (but by no means the same as) the initial stages of a psychotherapy, the consultant conveys a tolerance for the ambi-guity of the problem and seeks to draw the community into a more self-observing stance. Elaborating the Consultative Request The initial request usually stands as the consciously stated reason for help. Inevitably it includes a variety of unconsciously associated "agendas." The consultan~ recognizes these hidden forces that have coalesced to prompt the seeking of assistance and will respectfully inquire about them without attempting to inter-vene. They have a much longer life than the consciously stated one., The consultant for religious communities should maintain a particular ear for the historical context of these problem areas. Initially the community often challenges the consultant to do something impossible and then waits to see whether she or he is grandiose enough to try to tackle it. Questions like "Can you help us, deal with all the unspoken anger in this bunch?" need to be answered in a modest but respectfully humorous way: "Well. let me think a minute . . . what happened to the last guy who tried it?" After the ice is broken with the group's powerbrokers, the question can be restated in terms that can more easily be addressed, again hopefully with some humor: "Well . . . some-thing is getting in the way of people here being able to speak their piece., without getting sent ~to New Guinea . " The consultant takes these intangibles into account and for-mulates in clear language an agreement with the community about what consultation will be about, what it can and cannot accom-plish, when and how it will occur, when it will conclude, and what the sort of fee would be involved. The community should expect some response from the consultant that clearly formulates the current understanding of the problem.from perspectives of both community and consultant. Such a statement is usually best if it is,simple and colloquial and contains a potential for redefinition later on: You guys have really been struggling with this prob-lem about who lives with whom., and you're also saying you want to start closing out some parish work, that every-body is getting burned out., you really don't have to wait July-August 1997 Smitb * Mental-Healtb Consultation until the whole team is carried off the field before changing the game plan., let's see if it makes sense to meet a few times and see if there's some connection between these issues, how the community presently thinks about it and what would give the problem some fresh air . The initial phase is a get-acquainted one for both par-ties. The community needs time to size up the consultant and vice versa. The anxiety that accompanies a community's need for help can prompt it (and the consultant) into a pre-mature determination of type of consultation. The com-munity may be panicked about a growing tension between members or between subgroups and may demand quick results from the consultation. It is the height of folly for the consultant to rush in with psy-chological inventories or group-assessment devices. The religious in a community live there as well as work there. The consultant goes home. The context is different from industry, whei'e people at least have the escape of going home themselves in the evening. One community had be~n very reserved about seeking, con~ sultation. Careful assessment revealed that a previous consultant had come in for some "team building" and had required the com-munity to take a popular (but psychometrically compromised) test and then had proceeded to place the results on newsprint around the walls of the'community recreation room. No one would attend any further meetings; the community felt railroaded, overexposed, and very upset with the consultant. The consultant never stayed around long enough to get the feedback about how such cavalier interventions affected real people's lives. The community members' response to the proposed method is significant, for it often reflects attitudinal force and counterforce at work. For example, one community's s~uperior would not directly address the issue of the fee~ The consultant was told to contact the financial officer, an individual who was rather irrita-ble and demanding. The financial officer spoke to the consultant in a veiled condescending way, expressing dismay that the con-sultant even dare to charge a fee to a religious order. Such interactions in the initial phase reflect not only an anx-iety which the community cannot master, but also the manner by which it resolves it. Here the problem is manifested as anxiety about having adequate supplies and resources, whereas the uncon-scious fears seem to be around loss of control and authority. The community has designated someone who is rather difficult to con- Review for Religious trol the purse strings. The resolution is observed in the superior's being unable to address the financial issue directly and hiding behind the irritability of the financial officer. This kind of maneu-ver results in the superior coming across as a weak negotiator and never allowing the community to meet the financial issue head on. Some other forces are at work: the superior is set up as a "pup-pet" and the actual control resides in "old-timers" who are direct-ing the choice of leadership. The consultant's appearance on the scene is less than welcome, for they fear that the whole consultative process will undermine their "fiefdom." The community rarely lets the consultant in on the main difficulty all at once, especially in the beginning phase. The community has grappled with some issue for a long time; it has seen various personalities struggle with it with varying degrees of success. There have usually been fluctuations in leadership styles, in gov-ernance and decision-making processes, and in community responses to the changes. The texture of the com-munity's approach is often tied into its history and charism as well as to the current composition of

Peggy Grimm Pierce ; 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 Peggy Grimm Pierce. It was conducted on November 11, 2011 and concerns her recollections and experiences with Weber State University and specifically the Stewart Library. The interviewer is Ruby Licona. ; 18p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; i Oral History Program Peggy Grimm Pierce Interviewed by Ruby Licona 11 November 2011 ii Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Peggy Grimm Pierce Interviewed by Ruby Licona 11 November 2011 Copyright © 2012 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 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: Peggy Grimm Pierce, an oral history by Ruby Licona, 11 November 2011, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. Peggy Grimm LaDianaeda Sorority 1956 Peggy Grimm Pierce & Don Pierce 50th Wedding Anniversary 2008 Peggy Grimm Pierce ca. 1977 1 Abstract: This is an oral history interview with Peggy Grimm Pierce. It was conducted on November 11, 2011 and concerns her recollections and experiences with Weber State University and specifically the Stewart Library. The interviewer is Ruby Licona. RL: I'm Ruby Licona from the Stewart Library at Weber State University. Today is November 11, 2011. I'm speaking today with Peggy Grimm Pierce, who worked at the Stewart Library from 1977 to 2000. She retired as the Coordinator of the Interlibrary Loan Department. We are speaking at her home in Santa Clara, Utah. Peggy, why don't we start with some general background information? Tell me about your family background, where you were born, and how you ended up at Weber State. PP: I was born and raised in Grand River, Iowa. My father was a truck driver so we moved all over. When I was fifteen, he decided to move to Ogden and we stayed put. That was wonderful for me. I didn't want to leave Iowa because I was dating Don, who is now my husband. My mother caught me in my room crying a few times, but I loved Weber High School. Dr. Rowley, who is also a professor at Weber State, was the drama coach at the high school at the time. I'd never done anything like that before, but I signed up for the class and he took me under his wing. So while I was in high school, I was in a few plays. I came from a hillbilly background in Iowa and I blossomed under Dr. Rowley's care. I was also the homecoming queen, junior prom queen and vice president of the student body. My world had changed immensely from where I came from. Don would come to 2 visit Utah on occasion to see my brother. While I was at Weber State, he came to visit and we got back together again. Before that, I had signed up for a scholarship at Weber under the directions of the girls' advisor. She found out that I didn't intend to go to college because we were too poor. She insisted that I sign up for this scholarship and I got it. I attended Weber State for four quarters, intending to become an elementary school teacher—that was the desire of my heart—but then Don and I decided to get married. I transferred from the telephone company, where I was working even though I was a student at Weber State, and I transferred to Des Moines. We got married in 1958 and Don went to school at the University of Iowa. I longed to complete my degree, but it wasn't possible. We had three children very quickly and I was working. We eventually ended up moving out of state so Don could get his degree. I put him through his Bachelor's and his Master's at Texas A&M. The agreement was that he would then put me through school. But we ended up in Redmond, Oregon, and it was not possible to attend college there, I would have had to leave my family for extended periods of time, which I wasn't willing to do. Don decided, after five years as an administrator in the Redmond School District, that we would come back to Utah. We came back for a summer vacation in the summer of 1977—my parents still lived here—and Don decided to look for work. He went to the Weber State campus to look and when he came back, he told me that there was a job for a Reserve librarian. I said, "I'm not going to interview for a job until you get one." He said, "Just go ahead and interview, at least, and I'll be interviewing in other places." I interviewed with 3 Craige Hall and we then went home to Oregon because Don hadn't found a job. When we got home, Craige called and told me that he'd like to offer the Reserve librarian job to me. I said, "Thank you, I appreciate the offer, but I will not be taking it because my husband did not get a job in Utah." I hung up and took our three daughters and went shopping. While we were shopping, Don called Craige back and told him I'd take the job. [Laughter] Craige, then, was laboring under the false impression that I was this little lady who did everything her husband said. RL: He was in for a rude awakening. [Laughter] PP: When I did accept the position, I told Craige that I would be working for three years because I intended to get my degree and then become an elementary teacher. Well, seven years later I was still working in the library and I did, finally, graduate with an elementary education degree. RL: When was that? PP: That was in 1984. I then had to go to the hospital and have gall bladder surgery, but I had already interviewed for an Interlibrary Loan position. While I was in the hospital, Scott Burkenshaw peeked around the corner and said, "Peggy, you got the job." I said, "Oh my goodness, you must be desperate." That was the Interlibrary Loan coordinator position and I just loved it. RL: You did it for a long time. PP: There was so much that had to be learned. I had to learn the OCLC system. It was like getting another degree and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Working with all the faculty and staff was a real treat, as well. During that time, I was selected as the 4 Presidential Outstanding Staff Member. I think it must have been just because I had so many contacts with faculty and they had been so happy to get the materials that they needed for their research. Here's a funny story from Interlibrary Loan: there was a student who was doing research on swine waste and methane gas. I did a lot of searching in order to get the materials that he needed for his research. He earned an award for his research. He came in and told me how happy he was and said, "I just wish there was something I could do for you." Over the course of the conversation, we had talked about how he was gardening and I was gardening and he had a lot better tomatoes than his dad had and it was because of this swine waste. Then it was like a light bulb went on above his head and he said, "Oh! That's what I can do for you—I can bring you swine manure!" [Laughter] A couple of weeks before that, I had been talking to Joan Hubbard because she had worked in Interlibrary Loan also. She said, "That's the only job in the library that I know of where you get candy and flowers for your efforts." I could hardly wait to tell her that there was one other thing that you could get as a reward for your efforts. RL: After forty years of working in libraries, I have to say that you're the first person I've ever heard of that got swine waste as a thank you gift. I can imagine that it was very rewarding to be able to help people with their research. I know that in Interlibrary Loan you get to work with people all over the world. PP: You certainly do. Some of them were the students working in the library under my supervision. I started out with Kim Wynn working there as a student; she was from Vietnam. Her family was still in Vietnam, but she had been working for the 5 United States government. Without any warning, she was told that she needed to pack a sack of belongings and get on the plane because the Communists were coming and she would be killed because she was working for the United States government. So she did and ended up in a small apartment working at Weber. She was an excellent worker. She came to me one day and said, "I have two brothers that are in Communist prisons who are working for South Vietnam in the military." A while later, she came back and said, "My brothers have escaped." She got them to the United States—I don't know how. She came to me one day and said, "Peggy, I need for my brothers to have jobs." They could barely speak English. I told her I could employ one, but not both. So Tuan started working in the Reserve Department. He had a wonderful work ethic. When we had days that the campus was closed because of snow, the library wouldn't be closed, but Tuan would get to work before I did and he was always there. Very dependable. Later on, Tuan asked me if his nephew, who had just arrived from Vietnam, could work in the library. They were a very fine family. I had a Japanese boy who worked for the library under my supervision and an Iranian man, too. It was just delightful. RL: It sounds like you had your own little Diversity Department right there in the library. PP: We really did. [Laughter] RL: Let's back up a little bit. When you arrived and took the position as the Reserve librarian, how many people were employed by the library at that point? Do you have any idea? 6 PP: I do not, but it certainly did grow after that. RL: When you arrived, was the library already in both wings? PP: Yes. We had both—with the accompanying heat problems. RL: Do you remember some of the people that you worked with at the beginning? PP: Louise Larkin comes to mind. And the lady who worked with her—they were delightful. They were working in the back—classifying and cataloging books as they came in. One of my very best friends was Linda Heinze. It turns out that Linda went to Weber High School at the same time I did. RL: Did you know one another? PP: No. She joked about how she was in the parking lot crowd while I was in with the student counsel trying to decide what to do about the parking lot crowd. She was working on the keypunch. RL: Doing the cards for the checkout system? PP: Yes. I had done that when I was employed by Internal Revenue, so I was well aware of what kind of work she was doing there. I don't want to digress, but I don't want to miss telling you about this, too. The summer that Craige decided to become a part-time director of the library— RL: He became part-time director of the library and also the director over the computer center. PP: Yes. That was the most horrendous summer that I have spent on the campus. It was partly because of Craige having to leave, but mostly because we had this huge steel corrugated panel that was being pounded into the earth behind the library to prevent water from coming into the basement. They pounded that all 7 summer long. If that wasn't enough, we also had a new online system come into the library that summer. RL: The online checkout and cataloging? PP: Yes. That had to all be learned from scratch. It was so demanding. But we got through it and what a wonderful library. RL: That was in the middle of the '80s? PP: Probably. When you talk to Craige, you'll be able to figure it out. I'm sure he remembers it well. RL: So you essentially worked with Reserve and then went to Interlibrary Loan? PP: Yes. I also worked at the Reference desk while I was the coordinator of Interlibrary Loan. Boy, that was interesting. My favorite saying about working in the library was that I never had a day working there when I didn't learn something. It was stimulating. I have worked for JC Penney, for the Bell Telephone Company, for the Army, and for the Air Force, and I have never found better people to work with than the people on that campus. I found the morals to be higher and the friendships to be long-lasting. The help, when you needed it, was there. RL: Now, I believe that the Presidential Distinguished Staff Award that you got was not only for your work in the library but you were also involved in things on campus outside of the library. PP: Yes. I was part of the Employee's Association. It was state-wide and it was to negotiate for salaries and to try to get better benefits and so on. I became the president for that association on campus. One summer, some officials from 8 campus came to me and said that they had a Centennial Court that they had built on campus and that they were going to dedicate it and that it would have my name on it. I went to the dedication and found out that my sister's name was also on the wall. RL: That would have been 1989? PP: Yes. My sister had been vice president of the student body when she was a student there. So it was fun to see that my name was there along with hers. RL: That puts you into the Weber State history. PP: Well, you know, I started as a student in the old campus before we had a dedicated library building. It was in what we called "the tub." I attended classes on the lower campus. In fact, I was taking a swimming class and then I would have to rush to my photography class on the upper campus. They wanted me to do the modeling for their class even though I didn't have a hairdryer and all the things that you have now in order to fix yourself up rapidly. That was interesting. [Laugher] I loved my classes when I finally got into the elementary education classes. We had the "Wilkits" at that point. If you weren't organized, then you very well better get organized. You had things you had to do at a specified time. RL: Were these teaching kits? Kind of teaching you pedagogy? PP: Yes. Teaching all the kinds of things you had to know in order to teach elementary education. RL: Lesson plans and activities and so forth? PP: Yes, we also had formal classes, but those "Wilkits" were the primary part of that course work. A few years later, my daughter was in the same program. In fact, I 9 have three daughters that graduated from Weber State. My brother and my sister did, as well, and my husband and my niece attended there. RL: Other than the Employee's Association, were there other associations or committees on campus that you were involved in? PP: Yes, but I'm sorry, I can't recall the name of the committee. I spent a lot of time on it, too. It was for employees but it wasn't with the Employee's Association. RL: I seem to remember that when Paul and Carolyn Thompson came to campus, you had known them from when you were in school. PP: I had known them from high school. They were a little bit younger than I was. We weren't super close because I was older than them. RL: So you were not on campus at Weber when they were students there? PP: I think I left just before they became active at Weber State. RL: And were you able to interact with them after you came back to the campus? PP: Yes, I think they're really very fine people. I said to Paul one time, "Paul, I'm going to have to just start shaking hands with you when I meet you in a line of people because I think there's some people who don't like it when I get a big hug." [Laughter] He said, "That's ridiculous." We've been friends for a long time and he knows my family. RL: Now, you mentioned some of the different places you've worked. When you worked for JC Penney, was that in Ogden? PP: Yes, it was in Ogden. Let me tell you how I started there. I was sixteen years old. We'd lived in Ogden for a year—I came from a background of wearing flannel shirts, jeans, moccasins and two pairs of socks—and I found out that that was 10 not the way you dressed in Ogden. When you went downtown in the '50s, you wore your best attire and gloves. So here I was, sixteen, by myself, downtown, and dressed up with my gloves. I was going through the JC Penney store and a very distinguished-looking gentleman came up to me and he said, "Miss, how would you like to work here?" I tipped my nose in the air and I walked off. I didn't know him and I didn't know what he was up to. It turned out that he was Ted Schmidt, the manager of JC Penney and Mayor of Ogden, as well. RL: Oh my goodness. PP: So one year later, I was walking through JC Penney with my aunt and we were both dressed up with our gloves. Ted Schmidt came up to me and made the same approach and I started to tip my nose up and Auntie said, "Just a minute, dear, let's go talk to the gentleman." So Ted took us upstairs to his office and offered me a job as a model. I'd never modeled before in my life! But I accepted the job and Ted taught me how to pivot, how to hold my hands, how to dress and how to walk. Then, there was a stand by the elevator where the models stood and wore the dresses that were on sale in the store. One day as I was turning, the elevator door opened and this little boy came out with his mom and he looked up and said, "Wow, look Mom, the dummy moved!" [Laughter] Another day, I caught a lady shoplifting while I was standing on that platform. Another time, it was approaching Easter and they had a lot of hats for sale. They set up a store window with all of these hats on the floor, a dressing table, a mirror, and me. I was sitting there and as people would walk by, they'd point to a hat and I'd model it for them. It was so much fun! 11 RL: You also mentioned that you worked for the military. What did you do there? PP: I was a keypunch operator for the Air Force. I also worked for Internal Revenue as a keypunch operator. I didn't do well at typing. My worst class and lowest grade in high school was in typing. So when this job came up with Internal Revenue Service as a keypunch operator— RL: Was that in Ogden? PP: Yes, it was in Ogden. For the job, you needed to be able to do twenty-five words per minute typing. I rented a typewriter and practiced and practiced. I took the test three times and never got to twenty-five words per minute. Finally, the gentleman in the employment office took pity on me and said, "I'm going to put you through, anyway." So I took the training and eventually, after I had worked there for a while, my accuracy and speed got so good that I received a monetary award. RL: In your time at Weber, are there particular incidents or movements that stand out? PP: The emphasis on diversity really changed all of us, I think. While we may have already believed in the premise, there wasn't much said about diversity until that time. We even had contests where we decorated doors with the diversity theme. I did that for a few years in the library. RL: They also started making a lot more services available for the different groups. PP: Yes. They also installed the little island, if you will, in the back parking lot. That was during President Nadauld's terms. At the time, it was suggested that the staff could use that for breaks and lunches and things. 12 RL: They took away the parking lot and put in that little plaza. PP: There was a lot of debate at the time. I didn't agree with it, but it looks nice now. I don't know how it's used. I hope the fire trucks can get around it. RL: Yes, the fire trucks can get around there. This past year, they made that back area of the library the only spot where the shuttle buses from the Dee Events Center stop. We get a lot of traffic in the library because it drops the students right there. PP: Very good. There was quite a long time there where they weren't able to be dropped off close to the library. It was quite a trip for them. RL: Anything in the library in terms of the organization of it? You mentioned the summer that Craige became part-time director of the library and was over the computing center. Did that affect the people in the library? He was a good administrator and he was organized. PP: He did and he had a lot of experience before that. I really didn't notice huge problems as far as him being gone. He managed to keep us working smoothly in spite of all that was going on during that summer. RL: Were there things that happened that were less than perfect? I'm not asking for dirt or anything, but are there things that stand out in your mind from your time? PP: It was a time when most people in the library didn't think that the evaluation form that we were using—and it was the same that they were using daily—was something that we should continue with. They were considering changing that, but it just happened to fall on me to be the first person that they evaluated. RL: Was this under Craige? 13 PP: Yes, but he wasn't involved. Five faculty members evaluated me for one hour and the very first thing that one of them said was, "Your previous evaluation forms looks like you can walk on water and that's just not possible." They then decided to downgrade my evaluation. Not because I hadn't performed adequately, but because they didn't think that I—or anybody else—should be graded so highly. So after an hour of this grueling situation, we were closing and one of the faculty said, "Peggy, how do you feel about this?" I said, "I feel like I've been run over by a truck and you'll be hearing from me again." Then I went to Human Resources and told the director what had happened. RL: Was that Stan Greenhalgh? PP: Yes, it was. Stan said that should not have occurred because an evaluation is to make you feel better, not worse. You should not be evaluated by five people; it should be a one-on-one. RL: And it should be your direct supervisors. PP: They weren't. The result was that I was evaluated again by Craige. I think, eventually, we got a different evaluation form. I remember going to Enable Industries, the firm where my husband was president. Every time I heard negative remarks in the library about the work and the jobs, I kept thinking off all of these disabled people at Enable Industries and everything they had to go through to get a job and keep a job. Joan suggested that we take a group of people over there and we decided to take a group from the library to tour Enable Industries. During that time, Joan was with us and she 14 was quite intrigued by the evaluation methods that they were using there. I think that some of those methods were initiated later on. RL: We can always learn from one another. I think the people on that tour benefited from seeing how bad they didn't have it. PP: Absolutely. That was an eye-opener. RL: I remember that in addition to your responsibilities in working at the Reference desk, you acted as the bibliographer for the children's books for a while. Was that because of your teaching experience and background? PP: When I was taking classes in elementary education, several times I would take an armload of books from the young people's collection to class and tell them about them. They weren't aware of having such a wonderful young people's collection in the Stewart Library. Even the faculty was intrigued by the beautiful books that I was showing. When it became my opportunity to work directly with the young people's collection, I loved it. RL: Did you buy the books? PP: I ordered a minimum amount of them. Our library budget, at that time, was very small. We would regularly get the Newberry Award books and so on. When we had a tour that was being scheduled to come through with children in it, the other faculty members would shy away from that group. Finally, they asked if I wanted to do it and so I got to conduct several tours with children's groups. I got to read them stories in the library. 15 RL: We had a group just two weeks ago that came through. I think they were three and four years old. It is a great resource for the education students—knowing about that collection is important. PP: True. I took a class on children's literature. What helped my interest to grow was that I had been the children's librarian in several different schools in Oregon, so I was aware of the many books available. I had children of my own and I found it fun to give birthday gifts and Christmas gifts to my children and grandchildren in the form of books. I've always loved books. RL: It's good for a librarian to love books. It's a disappearing art. So, Peggy, any more memories that you'd like to share from the years of your tenure at the library? PP: There's one disturbing situation involving a student worker and a student who used Interlibrary Loan heavily. Actually, let me backtrack a little bit. My sister-in-law works at the University of Iowa where they had a shooting incident. I think three people were killed because of a student being angry. After that, there was a lot of work in compiling information and finding out what could be done to avoid that sort of thing. I called Linda and asked her if she could send me some of this information. I gave the information to Joan and it wasn't very long after that that we had a student from Vietnam or Thailand who was a student worker at the main desk and used Interlibrary Loan extensively. A brilliant young man. He got involved with a young woman whose husband was still in Asia. He loaned her a large amount of money and was very fond of her. When her husband came to 16 Ogden, everything kind of fell apart. We started having meetings about this trio of people and what could be done because it was very disruptive. RL: Disruptive in what way? PP: He was angry at her because she had gone back to her husband and had not paid him back his loan. He still cared for her and he was losing face, which is upsetting in the Asian culture. Well, a meeting was called. It was to be held in the Union Building with the campus attorney, the three individuals, and the head of the department where he worked in the library. RL: Circulation? PP: Yes, Circulation. So they all congregated for the meeting and this young man came in with a backpack. RL: It was a disciplinary hearing, wasn't it? PP: Yes, it was. It just happened that the campus police officer was there, as well. That was unusual because he didn't usually attend those meetings. Well, the student employee pulled a gun out of his backpack and started shooting. He shot the attorney in the arm. He was trying to shoot and kill the woman's husband. He shot the police officer in the nose. Finally, the student was killed by the police officer. It was so very upsetting to all the library personnel who had known him and to the young woman, as well. RL: It created a lot of grief and consternation. It must have been about the lowest point in your library career. What was the highest point? 17 PP: It was very good to receive an award and be recognized for the hard work that I had done in Interlibrary Loan. I had a couple of people mention me on books that they had written. RL: Dedications? PP: That I had helped contribute. That was great. RL: In any work situation, there's the good and there's the bad and those are the incidents we remember. PP: And here I am now, retired. When I retired in 2000, it was in winter—January. I went home to cold, wintery days and I realized, "What have I done?" Then Joan offered me the opportunity to come back part-time at the Reference desk. I think it was about two years that I worked there so I could transition into being retired. RL: My memory of your time in the library was a time when we had had a horrible snow storm. I had a house that had a triple-wide driveway and I had spent an hour and a half clearing the snow off of it, then I went inside, showered, got dressed, got to work, and you were the only one in the building. You had this really nonplussed expression on your face and I said, "What's going on?" You said, "They closed the university." [Laughter] Essentially, we both laughed that someone had called off the party and didn't bother to let us know. PP: Most of the time, the library stayed open. We maintained that there were still students on campus that needed to have a place to go to. I remember one time, the sky light on the third floor was blown off and there we were with Reference on the third floor. We were still working and all the buildings around the library had been closed because of the wind. And here we were, still working. 18 RL: At least you can laugh about it. I know that your time in the library was very much appreciated and the time that you've taken to talk with me today is appreciated. Thank you. PP: You're sure welcome.

Issue 26.5 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; A Contemplative. House by Btrnard Hi#ing, C.Ss.R. 771 Institutional Business Administration by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James L O'Connor, S.J. 779 An Attitude towards Cgmmunity by Andre Auw, C.P. 797 The Vows and Christian Life by Gary F. Greif, S.J. ~ 805 Stability of Personnel Assignments by James F. Gray, S.M. 834 Religious Obedience ¯ by Jean-Marc Laporte, S.J. 844 Bishops and Religious Life by Theodore J. St. Hilaire, S,J. 860 The Priest-Religious by Jam~s Kelsey McConica, G.S.B. 869 Modes of Prayer by Joseph J. Sikora, S.J. 884 Eucharist, Indwelling, Mystical Body by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 910~ Meeting the Vocation Crisis by Shaun McCarty, M.S.Ss. T. 939 Seminarians on a College Campus by Edward F. Heenan, S.J. 946 Survey of Roman Documents 954 Views, News Previews 961 Questions and Answers 964 Book Reviews 968 BERNARD HARING, C.Ss.R, A Contemplative House Notes from a Discussion Held at Notre Dame On March 12, 1967, two priests, a laywoman, and several sisters met at Lewis Hall on the Notre Dame campus to discuss the feasibility of establishing one or more contemplative houses in the midst of our active communities. We wished to examine our reasons for desiring such a thing, the concrete shape such a desire might take, and the objections against it. What emerged from the discussion were three different types of con-templative houses. Some of the issues raised and points discussed are given below: 1. A contemplative house designed primarily to meet the needs of an active community was proposed. Now that we are beginning to appreciate 'better the indi-vidual vocations within a community, an opportunity should be provided for those who feel themselves called to a life of more radical prayer to fulfill this calling. Not only are there differences of vocation within a community but also differences or evolution within an individual vocation itself. The house would provide an opportunity for mature religious, having already had apostolic experience, who now feel themselves called to greater contemplation. We felt that it would be better to leave the amount of time spent in the contemplative house completely open. Some might want to spend a few months there, others a year or a few years, others might enter on a permanent basis. The house would provide for the entire community a place of retreat, meeting various needs. It could be a center of spir-ituality, a source of refreshment for the community as a whole. Such a community would need a core group, really called to contemplation, who would perhaps spend a certain amount of time with an already estab-lished contemplative group to learn the life from within. There are contemplative groups which can pro-vide this opportunity. 2. Another proposal concerned a contemplative house with the double aim of providing an opportunity of 4. 4. 4. Bernard H~iring, C.Ss.R., is teaching at Union Theo-logical Seminary; :Apartment 412; Mc- Gifford Hall; 99 Claremont Avenue; New York 10027. VOLUME 26, 1967 Bernard Hdring, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS contemplative life to its members and of restoring con-templative values within the world, particularly in those areas most starved for those values. ~Vhat was intended here concerned slum neighborhoods, so profoundly de-humanized. The house would be completely accessible to the neighborhood and would provide, a place of quiet, prayerfulness, and beauty, combined with radical poverty. Many in the slum areas have never experienced these values. It was suggested that one of the main reasons why our young people are able to appreciate social action, Peace Corps, civil rights work, and so forth, but have no appreciation [or contemplation is that they have never really come into contact with contemplative values. This house would provide the opportunity for such an experience. The location would be flexible; a house might be rented, perhaps, so that the group could move with the needs. Not only physical poverty, but contemplative poverty ("receptivity") would be stressed--learning to see and hear, and to receive life as a gift. 3. Also discussed was a contemplative house with the double aim of providing an opportunity of contempla-tive life to its members and of bringing Christianity in its simplest, most essential form to newly Christianized cotmtries, for example, Africa. Such a setting provides a constant call to authenticity, being rooted in the places of greatest need. It would provide an opportunity for presenting Christianity in its evangelical simplicity, stripped of extraneous cultural accretions and "works." Religious who seek to realize their vocation in this way should have both a profoundly contemplative calli.ng and a missionary calling, since a great deal of adjust-ment would be required. Points raised with reference to one or all of these proposals: Why? --because this is an age of polarities, andjust as there is a thrust towards hyperactivism, there must be a corre-sponding thrt~st towards radical prayer, in order to re-store the balance --because of the possibility of an evolution in spir-ituality in the individnal; a person who has no incli-nation towards a contemplative vocation at one time in his life may be drawn to this later, and should find provision for fulfilling this call within his own community --for the witness, sorely needed, of a life of prayer as manifested by religious --to realize in our lives Christ's periodic withdrawal into the desert and the rhythm of the Apostles' lives, as seen in Acts (their labors in the field ~,ere punctuated by periodic returns to the community) --to provide for the unique experience of community which can be found most radically in a contemplative community --to deepen and vivify the active apostolate to which these religious will return, from which they withdraw, and in which they will continue to live --as a response to a demand the Holy Spirit seems to be making on us now --as an expression of the Christian life of simplicity and poverty --to become more consciously and intensely "aware"; to allow one's consciousness to expand, to listen con-templatively-- in ways which are not possible while we are "busy about many things" Where? --in a house which belongs to the community but is in some sense "away," as at a country home or in some such semi-secluded location --in a place of radical "authenticity" (see n. 3) --at the motherhouse (or "central" house), if novitiate and other satellite institutions are removed from this place --within a city slum (see n. 2) For Whom? --establish minimai age, then open it to anyone who feels the need or desire for this type of life --use norms of selectivity in order to prevent this from becoming a place of escape, a haven for neurotics, the malcontents, and so forth --exercise no authoritarian selectivity, recognizing the right of any individual, for any motive, to try, at least, such an experiment --for the artists, as well as the contemplatives, of a community, since their creativity requires a greater flexi-bility in spirituality and prayer How Long? --undetermined; perhaps for a summer, for a year, for a number of years --in some cases, perhaps with the nucleus or core group, this will become a permanent vocation How to Support the House? --by alms --by some form of agricultural work --by conducting retreats in connection with the house --by providing for some of the members of the com- + ÷ ÷ A Contemplative Hottse VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard H;C~r~i$n.gR,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ munity to go out to work, professionally or otherwise; perhaps members could take turns --by giving lessons there, as might be the case were this the community in which the artists lived, as men-tioned above --by doing work in connection with that of ~he in-stitute, for example, to be a "communication center" Miscellaneous Points --safeguard at all costs flexibility, creativity, originality, in initiating such an experiment --yet learn from long established contemplative commu, nities what they can offer ---distinguish cloister versus contemplative community --consider the problem of integrating some form of the apostolate with this contemplative house so that there is a constant feedback, yet so that the need for solitude, prayer, and withdrawal are respected --such a house might be a cooperative endeavor among several communities or among the third and second orders of such communities as the Dominicans, Fran-ciscans, and so forth --groups should be small and highly experimental --part of renewal tends to admit that within our exist-ing congregations the person can no longer be fitted to the structure; the structure, therefore, must be broad-ened enough for all "talents" in the community Objections and Dil~culties --would this lead to an unhealthy division in the com-munity and to an attitude that would relegate the need for contemplative prayer to those participating in the house of prayer? --what can be done to restore the concept of leisure and the desire for contemplation to all rather than to the few who will be involved in this experiment? --would this cause a disorientation in one's own life or in the life of the community? --how can this be reconciled with the spirit of a com-munity whose essential work is the social apostolate? ---in the work of renewal, is the revitalizing of the witness of a life of prayer absolutely fundamental (and thus to be given priority), or must secondary matters first be reconsidered in order to achieve a level of maturity without which such a contemplative vocation could develop? --if such a house is needed, is this only symptomatic or indicative that we have to discover a better means of integration of prayer and the apostolate within our existing structures? --would not clearing away the "rubble" (obsolete ob- servances, and so forth) pave the way to a deeper Christian life without this? (The Notre Dame group would be interested in re-ceiving support and suggestions from anyone genuinely concerned with promoting this cause. Please address correspondence to Sister Marie, Via Di Villa Lauchli, 180; Rome, Italy; and/or Box 216; Lewis Hall; Notre Dame, Indiana.) A Contemplative House in the Midst, of Active Com-munities Almost every week I receive letters from religious who are intensely interested in the idea of a contempla-tive house in the midst of our active religious com-munities. Many religious and laymen support this idea with their prayers and their thoughts. The issue is on the agenda of many general chapters. It is, I feel, one of the greatest hopes for an authentic understanding of Church renewal. Some of the reasons why I feel this to be so are as follows: I. "My house shall be a house of prayer" (Lk 19:46). In our dynamic society where man organizes and manages almost everything, one aspect of humanity is greatly endangered: man in his dignity before God, man in his receptivity and humble dependence on God's graciousness. The feverish pace of technical development, the quasi-religious belief in economic progress and organization threaten man's capacity to listen to the word of God, to treasure it in his heart, and to ponder it. All man-kind needs such a study of the problem of prayer with a view to helping modern man relearn what it means to pray. To achieve this goal it is not sufficient that some people retire totally from the active life into cloisters, giving up their contact with the "world." The value of the cloister and of stable contemplative vo-cations must not be overlooked, but neither must this be considered as the only way of restoring contempla-tive life or of witnessing to the prime importance of prayer. 2. The era of the Second Vatican Council is an epoch of change. Many of the changes are overdue. In some areas of the Church, calculated and uncalculated re-sistance to the approach of Pope John and the Council, even from men and women in authority, provokes an increasing impatience and restlessness. Changes are sometimes made in a spirit of counterreaction against reactionary attitudes. All of this unrest and ferment must be countered by a more contemplative and tran-quil approach to renewal. Only if we have brothers and sisters among us who can treasure in their heart the ÷ A Contemplative House VOLUME 26, 1967 775 Be~ard HiCir.i$nsg.R,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gospel and the salvific events in our tirn'e and ponder our needs before God in prayer, can we begin to find that peace which .bears fruit a hundredfold in wise activity and wise changes. 3. In our time the specialization and differentiation of society and of the Church have reached a new level o{ development, and legitimately so. Our. active re-ligious communities have developed a new style of ef-fective and well-planned activity, with excellent profes-sional training, and so forth. For the integrity of the person and the community we must now develop the agpect of integration. It is not,sufficient that besides the active congregations there exist also contemplative orders. There is not enough exchange and sharing be-tween these two different (and often all too different) modes of life, and communities tend to keep the two distinct. At least some of the contemplative commu-nities could and should be deepened in their spirituality and widehed in their horizons. They could then serve as schools of prayer for others who are engaged .for the greater, part of their life in apostolic or profes- Sional activity~ But for the present time it seems to me that, generally, the more expedient solution would b'e, not. a kind of .confederation between a contem-plative order or cloister and an active community-- although this might work out well in some cases---but rather the opening of a house of prayer as an 6ssentia'l and integrating part of the active community. 4.~Just as there is a need for integration in' every community---especially in the highly.efficient active com-munity- there is also need for integration in the life of the individual person. We have tides in our life during which we need another type of community and another style of life. This may be a need for more contemplation. On the one hand, in an active com-munity some may well develop an authentic permanent vocation for the contemplative life. There should be a place for such a vocation within the congregation. On the other hand, almost all of us would like a sabbatical year which wd could devote to spiritual renewal within a zealous, healthy contemplative com-munity. What Form Should Such a "House o[ Prayer" Take?. 1. Much consideration must be given to this ques-tion, and experiments should be made in somewhat different ways. After listening to many religious who are interested in this idea, I am sure that the Holy Spirit will move us in the right direction, though per-haps through humble experiments and some mistakes. Blot the greater mistake would be not to try to find a concrete solution. There must be exchange of thought and experience. 2. In my opinion a house of prayer also should be, if possible, a center for .the earnest study of theology --o[ that mystical and ascetical theology which is needed so badly by the whole Church. Contemplation and meditation must be solidly grounded on a deep knowl-edge of our Lord and of our brothers and sisters with whom we live. 3. There should be as far as possible a stable' nucleus of sisters (or fathers or brothers) with an authentic vocation for the contemplative life. Among them there should be at least one who is well trained in theology, and possibly another with thorough training in psychol-ogy. Methods of concentration and prayer should be studied, and these should include the best of the Yoga and the Zen traditions. Modern man is lost unless we discover how to reeducate him for a life of concen-tration, contemplation, and prayer. A group of people with an authentic and permanent vocation to the contemplative life would enrich all those who come on a temporary basis. A stable con-templative vocation, however, would not exclude the possibility that some who live this life might occasionally have a "sabbatical year" during which they might teach mystical theology or engage in religious forma-tion work. Just as a contemplative vocation can develop from an active one, so also a most fruitful active aposto-late can develop from a more contemplative vocation, and this would be especially appropriate in the area of interior renewal. 4. Active communities should grant to their members the right to apply for the house of prayer whenever the special need is felt. They should be encouraged to spend at least half a year or a year there once or twice in their life. Shorter periods should not be excluded, even a few weeks each year, on condition that the religious wills to join the serious contemplative life as fully as possible for that time. 5. Some of the members of such a house could be qualified to conduct, longer retreats on an individual basis, whenever there is a need for this. Sisters them-selves (and not only priests) should be so qualified for this work. 6. The financial care of the house.should be assumed by the active community to which it belongs. This should not, however, prevent the members of the con-templative house from doing some work for their liveli-hood. The spirit of poverty and simplicity should reign, but there should be no pressure from financial worries. 7. Such a house of prayer might be in a place of A Contemplative House VOLUME 26~ 1967 777 Bernard H~ring, C~s.R. seclusioh "or it might be in. the inner city. We must study the problem of how to create the atmosphere for contemplative fife in the modern environment, and this might require an establishment in the inner city. How-ever, this shofild not be the only type of experiment. Some experiments should also start in the most favora-ble external conditions for contemplation. I would not, however, suggest the traditional type of cloister with all its severe rules and grills: these new houses should be models for the formation of the mature Christian. 8. The house of prayer must at the same time be a real community, a school of fraternal love. Genuine contemplation goes hhnd in hand with growth in fra-ternal love. The chief objection qikely to be advanced against m), proposal is the following: We are already overworked without this house of prayer. Some would escape in this way from an overburdened life; but for the others, the burdens would just become worse. My tentative response is this: When the program for a better pro-fessional training of the sisters was inaugurated, many had the same objection. But since ,the leaders of this movement were convinced of the necessity for the pro-gram, they 'found ways to free the sisters. And today all realize that efficiency is much greater if all the sisters have received the best possible formation. Anal-ogously, we are confronted with a genuine need today: we lose much energy and quite a few vocations as a result of the tensions and frustrations which derive from our activism. The house of prayer as here con-ceived would be above all a source of divine energy and peace, but it would also be a source of peace and energy on the psychological level. If the need is genuine and if my proposed solution seems to have merit, men and women of faith will find the experiment a reasona-ble risk. It may well be that the presence of a house ¯ of prayer within the active communities would change our hectic style of life without diminishing our witness and our professional efficiency. Isn't.,it better to explore the possibility than simply to tolerate the evils it seeks to remedy? REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOHN J. FLANAGAN, S.J.,AND JAMES I. o'CONNOR, S.J. Institutional Business Administration and Religious Catholic institutions in education and in the health field have for many'years been embarrassed and handi-c; ipped because of a conflict between religious govern-ment and good acadenfic and good health administra-tion and because of a conflict of interest between wh~t is good for a religious house and what is proper for a facility which has assumed a public responsibility. This article is not intended to reconcile the two ob-jectives into an harmonious compromise; instead, it sug-gests that the two sets of objectives do not lend them-selves to a compromise into one common objective; rather, each set is a valid objective in its own right and should be allowed to function as separate and mutually exclusive endeavors. We contend that religious and, to some extent, ca-nonical provisions have attempted to force a marriage between two entirely divergent concepts. The results have been, in some instances, the weakening of religious government and the clouding of its primary objective. The results have also been frustration in academic and health administration bringing about a series of com-promises producing much mediocrity. Attempts have been made to expand the responsi-bilities of a religious house beyond its original purpose. Consequently,. the religious house has been burdened with responsibilities beyond its conceptual resources. Moreover, superiors have been tortured into a type of split personality which has given rise to a hybrid and curious end product. A religious house, in the eyes of the Church and in John J. Flana-gan, S.J., is execu-tive director of the Catholic Hospital Association; 1438 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 63104. James I. O'Connor, s.J., is professor o[ canon law at Bellarmine School of Theology; 230 South Lincoln Way; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. VOLUME 26, 1967 John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS its original canonical conception, was a home for re-ligious. Its definition, even today, is in terms of the minimum number of religious necessary to constitute it a canonical entity. The purpose of the religious house was to foster religious life and the personal growth of individuals in the pursuit of their religious lives. The term, religious house, means every house of any re-ligious institute whatever; a forrnal or formed house is every house in which dwell at least six professed religious, at least four of whom must be priests if it is a house of a clerical institute (c. 488, 5°). Ecclesiastical property is that which belongs to an ecclesiastical moral, that is, legal .person such as a com-munity, a province, or an institute (c. 1497, § 1). Canonical regulations are directed primarily to the welfare of religious as religious and to the preservation of the religious institute as such. Canons and rules governing ownership, control, disposition of property and the attendant permissions are in complete accord with the existence of a religious house and the life of religious in a convent or monastery or a religious house of studies. But they manifest no concern with nor un-derstanding of professional responsibility to the public in the area of health or for academic responsibility in education. There is nothing in canon law or religious constitutions which indicates an awareness of the prob-lems of operating a nniversity or college or an under-standing of the complexities of a modern hosptial. In the beginning, religious houses functioned in a purely religious environment. How did they'gradually change so much? An historical sketch will indicate the answer to this question. Schools In virtue of her divine commission, "Go, and make disciples of all nations" (Mr 28:19), the Christian Church is essentially a teaching organization. The Church was instituted by Christ to dispense the means of salvation, for example, the sacraments, and to teach the truths necessary for salvation. These truths are spiritual and moral. To impart this essential knowledge, catechu- + menal schools were instituted. Other truths, for example, those of science, history, and so forth, that is, those ÷ ÷ of a profane or secular character, are not intrinsic to the Church's teaching program or mission. However, the profane or secular branches of knowledge were gradually worked into the curriculum and "baptized" when circumstances showed that students could acquire knowledge of them only at the cost of grave danger to their faith or morals. 780 The first schools to introduce a non-religious subject into the plan of studies were the catechetical schools. Because of the conflict between pagan philosophy and Christian truth, a Christian philosophy was developed. As a result, catechetical schools were, for the most part, institutions of higher learning. An easy step was later taken from philosophical controversy to theological controversy. ¯ The safeguarding of faith and morals, especi.ally when it concerned children, was not, in the beginning, a task of the schools but of the parents whose obligation in this regard was particularly stressed. Schools simply provided additional help for parents to meet their re-sponsibility to teach their offspring. Thus parochial and other Church-related educational institutions had their start and have developed into our present-day systems. Even prior to the existence of the catechetical school, special schooling was provided for boys wishing to join the ranks of the clergy. Such schools were attached to the residence of the bishop where the students lived and learned. In view of the purpose of these episcopal schools, as they were called, all phases of their regimen were geared to the clerical life and not to secular life for themselves or others. Similarly, monasteries originally had schools simply to train candidates for the monastic life. Monasticism in itself was a protest against the corrupt and corrupting standards of pagan living. These norms of life had be-gun to influence not only the public but also the private and domestic life of Christians. To help main-tain the ideals of Christian life, the monasteries began to take in students who were not interested in becom-ing monks. To a more limited extent the episcopal schools also adopted this extension of their program, albeit their prihaary purp6se still remained the train-ing of boys for the clerical state. The type of life these students were subjected to is ~indicated by the fact that authorities of the clerical schools in Italy were com-manded by the Council of Vaison not to deny their students the right to marry if they wished to do so when they reached maturity.1 It is hardly likely that schools in other countries differed from those in Italy. Where monastic schools educated people for either the life of the cloister or [or life in the world, they distinguished the two departments into "internal" and "external" schools respectively. What monasteries did for boys, convents did for girls. As time passed, the Catholic schools adopted more and more of the curriculum of the public schools until the program of studies in both systems covered the 1 Concilium Vasense III (A.D. 529), canon 1; Mansi, Amplissirna collectio conciliorum, t. 8, c. 726. ÷ ÷ ÷ Business A dministc a tion + + + John ]. Flanagan, $.J., and James L O'Connor, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS same branches of knowledge except that the Catholic schools placed special emphasis on the two subjects of religion and religious morality. Furthermore, with the passage of time, the Catholic schools were not operated' primarily for pupils who were considering taking up the clerical or the religious life but, vice versa, for those whose walks, in life would be outside the ranks of the clergy and religious. Despite the developments in the course of studies and in the purpose of schooling,2 the Catholic schools never fully developed an administrative existence di-vorced from that which governed the residences of the religious who operated the schools. Hospitals Care of the sick was a work in which Christ mani-fested great interest as is especially shown in the nu-merous miracles He performed for the sick. His interest was also shown in His command to the Apostles to heal the sick (Lk 10:9) and in His promise to those who believed in Him that they would be able to heal the sick (Mk 16:18). The Apostles, following Christ's example and com-mand, went about curing and comforting the sick (see, for example, Acts 3:2-8; 5:15-6; 14:7-9). Care of the sick is also iiaculcated in the famous passage of the Epistle of St. James (5:14-5). Wealthy Christians in the first centuries made pro-vision for care of the sick who could not be pro~cided for at the bishop's residence. Epidemics were the chief occasions for bringing out this form of charity to the neighbor. Hospitals at times grew up in connection with cathedrals. Later, under Charlemagne, every ca-thedral and every monastery was ordered to have a hospital connected with it. The funds for the support of such hospitals did not come from the priests or religious but from government sources. Because of the confiscation of these funds or diversion of them to other purposes, the hospital suffered. To offset such misuse of hospital funds, the management of hospitals was, at times, turned over to religious for their business administration. The monasteries became the dominant factor in hos-pital work in the tenth century when they combined with an infirmary for their own members a hospital a For a fuller account, see The Catholic Encyclopedia, v. 13, under the heading, "Schools"; Conrad H. Boffa, Canonical Provisions for Catholic Schools [elementary and intermediate] (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University Press, 1939), pp. 3--55; and Alexander F. Soko-lich, Canonical provisions Ior Universities and Colleges (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University Press, 1956), pp. 3-63. for externs. Collegiate churches also set up hospitals and the canons attached to the church were ordered by local councils to contribute to the maintenance of the hospital. Even though religious and diocesan clergy set up hospitals, the institutions were supported either by mu-nicipal funds or by money, land, or other means pro-vided by private individuals, Quite often control of such hospitals passed from the hands of the religious or the diocesan clergy to the municipality because of the general viewpoint that municipal authority should step in since there was question of management of institutions on which the common welfare of the public largely depended. This viewpoint was that of people from the twelfth to the sixteenth centuries. Where control of the hospital remained in the hands of religious, the ruIes for its administration were those for the administration of the religious residence as set [orth in the community's constitutions. In the United States, religious women were eventually led into hospital work because government and civilians saw and appreciated the work they did, even as un-trained helpers, on the battle field. The first step was to bring the sisters into army hospitals during the Civil War; the second was to induce them to build hospitals of their own.s Religious House All of these educational and health expansions de-veloped under the one ecclesiastical title, religious house. Regardless of the size or complexity to which they attained, the same organizational pattern was continued, namely, that for administering a religious house. Thus we find in preCode, that is, pre-1918 canonical com-mentaries that religious house and ecclesiastical founda-tion were synonymous terms and comprised "the com-plex of temporal property which was destined in perpetuity or, at least, for a long time to a religious purpose, that is, to divine worship, or, to the spiritual or temporal advantage of the neighbor and which was either set up as a legal person by authority of the Church herself or handed over to an ecclesiastical in-stitute (a religious house) already in existence either by a donation inter vivos or by last will and testament on the condition or with the stipulation of rendering religious service." Such works were distinguished from l~hilanthropic functions which "cannot be counted among ecclesiastical ~ See also The Catholic Encyclopedia, v. 7, under the heading, "Hospitals." ÷ ÷ ÷ Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 + ÷ ÷ John ~. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS foundations because they, prescind totally ~rom reli-gious purpose and are erected for public utility a'nd other natural and temporal motives and not because of the sup.ernatural motive of religious service and Chris-tian charity." 4 When revising Father Wernz's work after the pro7 mulgation of the Code of Canon Law, Father, Vidal rewrote the above section as follows: In preCode law, religious house was a generic term which, in addition to monasteries, designated all pious places erected by authority of the bishops or like prelates, for example, churches, temples, chapels, guest houses for poor pilgrims, hospitals for, the sick, orphanages for the education bf orphans 0'r of foundling bo.ys or girls. Similarly included were confra-ternities, congregations, holy mounts and other places set aside for works of charity, mercy, religious service or other pious use. A house (or place) was called religious in contradistinction to a pious house (or place), that is, one set aside for a pious or re-ligious purpose by the private determination of the faithful without authorization Of ~cclesiastical authority.~ ' The differences brought out above between the un- ~erstan. ding of the term, religious' house, in preCodg and pos.tCode times are shown more easily and clearly, perhaps, in the following comment: In pr~sent-day law, the ancient understanding of religious house-is notably limited. In the Code religious house is a teCh, nical term and signifies' nothing more that a house of some religious institute. Other ecclesiastical, works or entities, fo~ example, hospitals, orphanages, which previously were also included under the term, religious house, are now designated in the Code by the generic term, ecclesiastical institutions. The same commentator then goes on to explain more exactly just what a religious house is: , In the Code and in law in general, a house is. occasionally used in a common or material sense as the place or building.of residence. In.a more technical sense, a house is understood in ¯ law as a moral or legal person, whether collegiate or non-collegiate. In the current law on religious life, a religious house in its formal and proper sense means a religious com-munity~ namely, a moral, collegiate person which forms the lowest division or society of those persons who, by common law, are members of religious institutes. Religious house, how-ever, does not sig~i[} a community in the abstract but in the concrete inasmuch as it has a site or residence in a plade.° ~ F. X. We.rnz, s.J., lus decretalium, 2nd ed. (Rome: PolygloF P[ess, 1908), t. 3, n. 195. Translation of this and other passages from various authors cited was made by Father O'Connor. ~ F. X. Wernz, S.J., and Petrus Vidal, S.J., lus canonicum (Rome: Gregorian University Press,'1933), t. 3, n. 43. nArcadio Larraona writing in Commentarium pro religiosis, w 3 (192,2), pp. 47-8. Father La~aona, a,Claretian, later became under-secretary and, eventually, secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Religious (1943-1959); he was created cardinal in 1959 and is pres-ently Prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. See also Timotheus Schaefer, O.F.M.Cap., De religiosis, 4th ed. (Vatican City: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1947), nn. 163-4. Since, as Larraona points out, religious house pri-marily means a religious community, it is not necessary that the religious own their place of residence. As a result, Larraona later writes: "In order to be considered as a religious house, it makes no difference whether the community lives in rented buildings or on a single floor of some building." And he adds in a footnote: "None of these factors prevents it from being a really true religious house; as a result, it must be treated as such." z There is a special case in the Code, namely, in canon 514, § 1,s where religious house is used in a far brohder sense but in this instance there is no ques-tion of business administration; it concerns purely spir-itual care.~ While, technically, the term, religious house, was notably narrowed from its preCode interpretation, nevertheless, because of the definition given in canon 1497, § 1 to ecclesiastical property and because of the provision of canon 532, § l?° the work of religious institutes in education and health services has been developed, even in modern times, under the pattern of religious government. Consequently, many inconsist-ent and unwieldy situations have developed. Working under a system which was by its nature limited to the government of a religious house, re-ligious orders and congregations have undertaken the ownership and management of universities with schools of medicine, law, dentistry, engineering, liberal arts, teacher education, as well as schools of philosophy and theology. Religious congregations of women and men have carried the ahnost complete responsibility of the Cath-olic hospital system. Over ninety percent of the person-nel involved in carrying out these commitments are lay people who are in no way committed to the way of life of religious subjects. Notwithstanding this fact, their functioning, their growth and development, and their compensation are affected by the spirit and letter of a system primarily intended to govern the lives of re-ligious. The hospital situation finds an almost perfect paral- ~ Commentarium pro religiosis, v. 6 0925), p. 15, II, and footnote (408). ~ In every clerical institute the superiors have the right and duty to administer, either personally or by delegate, the Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction, in case of sickness, to the professed members, to the novices, and to other persons dwelling day and night in the religious house by reason of service, education, hospitality, or health. ~ Commentarium pro religiosis, v. 9 (1928), p. 104. ~o The property of the institute, of the province, and of the house is to be administered conformably to the constitutions. ÷ + + Business Administration + 4, John I. Flanagan, S.l., and James I. O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 786 lel on the. college and university levels of education and, in a far less degree, on the lower educational level~. The spirit of canon law and ~f the constitutions of religious congregations and orders' was conceived to foster a way of life which led to personal sanctification of religious as individuals and as a group. It was never intended to develop those people professionally or to control the growth and development of institutions which have a public responsibility in education and health, The financing of these endeavors has involved com-plex and basically secular activities which have been subjected to rules, policies, and restrictions formulated solely to govern finances of a religious house, that is, a residence or training center for religious as religious. Permissions, personal and corporate, appropriate within the religious institute,xt are completely incompatible with the intelligent, well-administered financing of, higher education and, for example, the management of a twenty million dollar ($20,000,000)health complex. These activities relate to the development of a service to the public and not to the welfare of a religious house. In mbst instances, the necessary financial support must be obtained from the public, in some cases from the government itself, whether.local, state, or f~deral, with an explicit or, at least, an implicit commitment to serve the public. Even when contributions come from private sources, such as well-to-do benefactors or business enterprises, the money is given not to the religious community as religious but to promote the public service the religious are engaged in, for example, education, health care. This view of contributions to religious institutions rendering a public service is brought out in the practical order by two actual cases which came to .the second author's attention in the last few months. One case involved a Catholic hospital, the other a Catholic col-lege. Each was operated by a different sisterhood. In the case of the hospital, the. sisters decided to close the hospital and sell all its property for what they could.get. Somehow word of the plan reached the capitol of the State in which the hospital was located. The sisters were notified that the only money they could take out of the sale price was what they could prove ~hey had contributed from the community to the hospital. Since all other moneys or their equivalent were giv,en ~ Even as regards financial administration o[ religious property in the narrow sense o[ the term, updating o[ canon law is needed. See Charles J. Ritty, "Changing Economy and the New Code of Canon Law," Jurist, v. 26 (1966), pp. 469-8't. to conduct the hospital as, a public: service, all money derived'from the sale after deducting money the re-ligidus community .could prove it contributed had to be turned over to the State. for disbursement to other health facilities for the public. In the case of the .college,. a like decision regarding closing and sale was arrived .at by the sisters. In this instance also, word of the plan reached the State capito,1. Similarly the sisters were notified that a!! they could take, from the sale. price was what they. could prove they had :contributed. Moreover, the only persons to whom' they could sell the institution were either an-other educational organization which would take over. the operation of the college or the State itself which would then take steps for the continued operation of the college. In both cases, through a 'belief that the sisters would never see the day when they would have to surrender the institution or through an oversight on the part of the civil lawyer consulted in setting up the charte~ of incorporation, there was no provision in either cha.rter~ for th6 dissolution of the corporation. If the articles of incorporation had provided that, in ,.the event of dissolution 'of the hospital or college corporation, the net assets, namely, after payment of bills and after de-ducting the proved contribution by the religious com-munity, were to be transferred to another health care or educational facility, .respectively, within the same sisterhood or, in the event that the religious institute had no other health care or educational facility, then to a like facility within the diocese and, if possible, in the same city or geographical area, there would, we are informed by civil lawyers, have been no problem with the respective State governments. While, very often, religious communities have con-tributed sums of money which are quite large in them-selves, such financial support is relatively small when the total financial picture is brought into focus. There are even instances where not one cent of the invest-ment in buildings and equipment has come from the religious community. And yet the institution is classi-fied as ecclesiastical property because it is incorporated in the name of the religious community. As religious institutions have become more and more involved in semipublic responsibilities, an increasing number of incompatible situations have been encoun-tered. One of the first noticeable situations was the manner of operating schools of nursing and boarding, schools. Having extended to them the aegis of the religious house and the authority of the religious superior, there + ÷ ÷ Business A dmin~tration VOLUME 26, 1967 787~ John J. Flanagan, S.]., and .lames L O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS was. a natural tendency to impose upon the young stu-dents a manner of living suitable to young religious. Through a failure by both ~he religious themselves and by many of the laity to distinguish between money and property acquired and administered for public service and that which pertains to the religious com-munity as a religious community, a number of erroneous conclusions have been drawn by both groups. Here are some examples: The question of corporate poverty and its relation-ship to personal poverty is a matter of great concern to religious superiors, to Church officials, and to mem-bers of the laity. Today's arrangement with large institu-tional holdings and operating budgets is misunderstood by some members of the laity who see a concentration of too much ownership and financial consciousness in or-ganizations whose members publicly and officially profess personal poverty. The affluence of some institutions may affect the personal lives and practices of the members of the re-ligious congregation or order. On the other hand, in terms of professional academic needs of Catholic hos-pitals and educational institutions, the resources in facilities and finances are woefully inadequatK If re-ligious are to discharge their obligations to the public, the needs of Catholic institutions of learning and health care cannot be governed by policies primarily con-cerned with fostering the spirit of poverty in a re-ligious community. The mingling of funds of a pro~essional institution with the funds of the religious institute compounds the problem. In the past, the using of funds generated by the professional institution to construct chapels and colleges primarily for the benefit of the religious com-munity has intensified the issue as can be so well per-ceived in this post-Vatican II period. The legitimate concern of government and the general public to make money available to an institution for comprehensive civic service, when that institution has ambivalent objectives, is harming both the service to the civic community and the credible image of the given religious order or congregation. As the problems facing Catholic institutions today are studied, there is no need to think that Church-related and Church-influenced institutions should be surrendered to secular thinking or to management devoid of religious and moral in-fluence. In a pluralistic society, the Church-related in-stitution has much to offer and the American educational system and the health care system of the country would be seriously short-changed without them. There are various remedies for curing the indicated ills affecting Catholic educational and health care in-stitutions. None of the suggested remedies is a panacea. Ifi some instances the burden will not be removed but only made lighter. In other cases, the existing malady may be totally cured but the cure itself may generate side effects which, however, may be borne with, greater ease than the original ailment. Furthermore, in many instances authorization will be required from the Holy S~'e before the proposed mode of action can be legit-imately adopted. It should be obvious that the sug-gestions made here do not exhaust all possibilities for coping with tlie undesirable situations. As shown earlier in this article the term, religious house,~ has been narrowed very much in its meaning from that it had in preCode ~law, All that is necessary, then, as regards this term is to make sure it is under-stood in its postCode sense as pointed out above by Larraona. The term, ecclesiastical property (canon 1497, § 1), ought, it seems, to be redefined in the light of present-day s{tuations and worded somewhat as follows: Ecclesiastical property comprises 'only those temporal goods, both corpo~eal,whether movable or immovable, and incor-poreal which belong to the Church universal, or to the Apos-tolic See, 'or to any other ecclesiastical moral person in the Church and which directly and primarily service the ecclesias-tical moral person and do not primarily service the good of the general public. If this or similar wording were adopted by the com-mission f6r the revision of the Code of Canon Law, ecclesiastical property as concerns religious wouId be restricted to religious houses in the strict sense of the term, namely, residences of religious (including pro-vincialate and generalate residences), houses of forma-tion, community infirmaries, community cemeteries, community villas, community farms or lands, and shch like properties. Not .included would be all properties primarily .and directly serving the general public, for example, hospitals of any classification, orphanages, schools on all levels of education for the general public. The business administration of these latter institu-tions would be conducted according to the law and practice of the country, state, or civil province pertinent to like facilities whose officers and staff are all lay persons. Proposed also for consideration is the question whether the educational or health facility should be incorporated as a civil corporation totally distinct from the civil corporation composed of the religious house, province;, or,,institute: If the institution were incorpo-rated as an entity separate and distinct from. the re-÷ ÷ 4- Business Administration VOLUME :26, 1967 John I. Flanagan, S.l., and James L O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ligious community, several great advantages would follow. 1. The institution would not be part of the religious community. As a result, it would not be ecclesiastical property. The further consequence would be that in its business management, it would not be governed by the canon law of business administr.ation. It would be managed completely and solely by the law and practice of the civil jurisdiction in which it is located and in-corporated. In the existing situation, there is the anomaly that an institution which derives its legal ex-istence from the State and, in the case of educational institutions, derives its power to issue diplomas, grant degrees, and so forth from the State and not from the Church, should, nevertheless, be classified as ecclesi-astical property because it is owned by a religious house. This proposed solution of a problem rendered ex-tremely difficult in practice by th~ canonical definition of ecclesiastical property is applicable only as regards the future legal erection of institutions. Since hereto-fore all institutions were .listed as owned by the re-ligious community, they thereby became ecclesiastical fixed or stable capital property. As such, they are sub-ject to all the canonical prescriptions and limitations for such property. Consequently, from a canonical view-point, in order to set up the institution as a separate corporation which is not part of the religious corpora-tion, the more obvious procedure is to request an indult of alienation from competent ecclesiastical authority since the religious corporation is divorcing itself com-pletely from the ownership--such as it was---of the property whictt is the institution's. In seeking such an indult, in addition to the other requirements, it is. of paramount importance that the reasons for the re-quest be carefully and strongly expressed. Many such reasons are presented in this section of this study. "A less obvious method of providing for the separate incorporation is to deduct from the next quinquennial report on the financial administration of the total in-stitute the value of all property which has been pre-viously reported as ecclesiastical property but which has in fact been providing a public service facility, for example, school, hospital. An explanation, of course, must be given for the deduction. It can be modeled on that given in the case of two hospitals where this latter procedure was followed. Additional reasons, such as those proposed here, can and perhaps should be used to strengthen the case. In both cases the sisters had reported the hospitals as ecclesiastical property in two previous quinquennial reports to Rome. After the second such report, the sisters found out that they had to administer the hos-pital property completely in accord with the civil law of the States in which the hospitals" were located. Such a method of administration, for example, authority of the individual members of the governing board, use funds, and so forth, seriously conflicted with the canon law for the temporal administration of a religious house. As a result, on the third quinquennial report, the sisters deducted from the previously reported ec-clesiastical property the amount of the two hospitals. In so doing, they advised the Sacred Congregation for Religious that they (the sisters) no longer considered the hospitals as ecclesiastical property but only as secular property since it was impossible to conduct the temporal administration of the institutions in accord with canon law. In the acknowledgment of the report by the Sacred Congregation for .Religious, no word of objection or criticism was made on the reported change of classification of the hospital properties nor was any indication given that the sisters needed an indult of alienation for the two cases. This approach to a heretofore very difficult case may be viewed by the Sacred Congregation for Religious as canonists have viewed a somewhat similar instance, namely, if religious are in any way compelled by the State to sell or otherwise alienate part or all of their capital property, such alienation is not subject to the canonical prescriptions concerning alienation. An ex-ample is had where the State obliges religious to sur-render part of their property to provide a right of way for constructi6n of a road.lg 2, In the event of separate incorporation of the in-stitution, question 90 (78) of the formula for the quinquennial report (Q. R.) by religious institutes would, of course, be applicable: In cases where works which are not the property of the house, such as clerical or religious residence halls, hospitals, churches, and so forth, are entrusted to the religious house, are these properties kept clearly distinct from those which be-long to the religious house itself? = Observance of this requirement would remove the problem arising from the commingling of institutional funds with those of the religious house as such. 3. An unhealthy identification of the institution with = See Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., R~wzw Fog RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 51, n. 3. =The open number refers to the formula for institutes of pon-tifical law; the number in parentheses refers to the same question in the diocesan law formula. See T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J., Canon Law Digest lor Religious, v. 1 (Mil-waukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 227-73. 4. 4. 4. Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 791 ÷ John J. Flanagan~ $.J., and lames !. O'Connor~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the religious and o[ the religious with the institutio)a would be destroyed with great advantages for the re-ligious. To indicate some of them: (a) Institutional assets and debts would not be identi-fied as possegsed by the local religious community. As things are today, there is no distinction in financial reports to State or other agencies or to the general public between the assets and debts of the ins.titution as such and those of the religiouS' who operate it. Because of the identity of religious with the institu-tion, the financial statement, when issued, is unsler-stood as a statement of the finances or their equivalent possessed by the religious community. ~ (b) The above erroneous conclusion, occasioned, how-ever, by the prevailing practice and common c~anonical understanding, in turn, leads to confusion in the minds of outsiders, Catholics as well as non-Catholics, who cannot reconcile personal poverty with corporate wealth. If separate incorporation were effected, the financial report is that of the institution alone and independent of that of the religious community which administers it. In view of past history, it may well take some time for the realization of this divorce to sink into the minds of outsiders. In itself, it is no more difficult a concept than distinguishing the assets and liabilities, for example, of Harvard University from those of the members of the board of trustees and the faculty, of the university. The problem is had relative to C~ttholic institutions because of the mutual identity of institu-tion with religious community and of religious com-munity with the institution. That identity iso not had between Harvard University and its trustees and faculty. (c) Conversely, the religious themselves would be disabused of the notion that, though personally poor, their community is very well of[. More or less suddenly it would dawn on them that both they personally and their community as such are poor. (d) Allied to advantages (b) and (c) is that of ~iving credit where credit is due. This pertains to both the public and the religious community. By far most of the financial support of the facility comes from the public in one way or another. The public should be given credit for this support and the financial statement ought to reflect this fact. If, as is usually the case, the.religious community also con-tributes to the financial maintenance of the institution, this act by them ought also to appear on the financial report. Its appearance there will help. to bring out their personal and communal involvemer~t in the needs ~and interests of the public good in a very concrete manner. ~.Vhile it is true that this appreciation of the common-weal is manifested in their administration and working in the institution, this fact can be overlooked or can lack appreciation by the public because the religious can be classified just like any outside administrator, nurse, or teacher, namely, it is simply a job for which their services have been engaged. Furthermore, by donating a substantial amount of money to the support of the institution, the common impression that somehow the school or hospital is con-ducted for the monetary benefit of the religious order or congTegation can be effectively dissipated. Moreover, such a contribution is a way of discharg-ing the wish of Vatican II in its decree concerning religious where it is set down that: "Let them [re-ligious] willingly contribute something from their own resources., to the support of the poor, whom reli-gious should love with the tenderness of Christ." 14 (e) Separate incorporation with its financial conse-quences for the religious community would enable the community to implement another of Vatican II's pro-visions in the same decree: Depending on the circumstances of their location, communi-ties as such should aim at giving a kind of corporate witness to their own poverty . To the degree that their rules and constitutions permit, re-ligious communities can rightly possess whatever is necessary for their temporal life and their mission. Still, let them avoid every appearance of luxury, excessive wealth, and accumulation of possessions.1~ Relative to the point of financial contributions by the religious community to educational institutions, a change will be necessary in the common current practice of simply making book entries of what is frequently, if not always, referred to as "living endowment." In this procedure no actual transfer of money, namely, by check, is made to the religious community for the services rendered to the school by the individual re-ligious. Further, a certain amount of cash is deducted from the cash receipts of the institution for the main-tenance of the religious community, for example, food, clothing, health, contributions to province or/and generalate support, and so forth. This procedure can lead to questioning by outsiders: Are the religious ac-tually claiming as equivalent salaries, salaries which are actually higher than those paid to lay persons in like positions? Is the religious community, in some sense, deriving double indemnity, namely, a cash indemnity "Quoted from The Documents o[ Vatican 11, ed. Walter M. Abbott, S.J. (New York: America Press, 1966), pp. 475-6. ~a Ibid. 4- 4- ÷ Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ John J. Flanagan, S.I., lames I. O'Connor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS .794 through the amount deducted :for living expenses and a second indemnity in the form of a stated "living endowment" made to the school? Separate incorporation would also help in this area since the fi.nances of the school would be totally dis-tinct and distinguishable from those of the religious, community. Moreover, the school would issue checks to the religious just as it does to the ngn-religious members of the administrative and teaching staffs. Thus a.ny and all questions concerning the salary scale of the religibus personnel in comparison with that of other personnel could and should be easily answered. It would banish the idea or confusion, where had, that the re-ligious are receiving more than they should, whether that amount .equal double indemnity or less than that amount. Furthermore, any questioning or criticism of contri-butions. by the local religious community to the n~eds of the province or to the generalate or to any worthy cause outside the re.ligious institute would be stopped since all such contributions would now come out of the sum resulting from the salary checks to the local religious community. ¯ This method of explicit transfer of cash in the form of check for services rendered by individual religious to the institution .they staff is not in itself a new idea, It has been in effect in the Catholic hospital field for a number of years. It was brought about through pressure from outside agencies who refused to accept as identifiable operati~Jnal costs mere book entries without any actual transfer of cash. Moreover, it forced the religious community to be honest in its assignment of salaries for sisters. In some instances in the past there were cases where full salaries were set down for aged or for more-or-less incapacitated sisters who rendered absolutely no or very little health care service to the patients. Furthermore, this procedure of actual transfer of salary money produced a true picture of the actual operational costs'of the hospital and, thereby, gave it a just comparison with all other hospitals in the area 'not under Cath61ic auspices. It also disabused the public of the false notion that the religious need no or ex-tremely little mone~; for their own support and educa-tion, both as individuals and as a community. There is no reason why like benefits should not ac-crue also to religious ~engaged in the educational field. At least one religious teaching institute has already adopted this compensation procedure. It goes without saying that if checks are issued to individual religious, this action does not dispense them from the obligations of common life and those of their vow of poverty. All such compensation belongs actually to the religious community (c, 580, § 2). To avoid income tax.problems, it should be shown that the individual religious, because of his (her) vow of poverty, is simply a conduit from the institution to the religious community to which the money ac-tually goes and belongs. Another device to achieve the same purpose is a single check issued in the name of the local religious community and accompanied by a statement listing the names and amounts for each re-ligious on the institutional staff. Another phase of the business management of Catho-lic institutions concerns the intrqduction of lay trustees, lay.~ administrators, lay vice-presidents, or even a lay president. Use of lay people in positions of administra-tion of Catholic institutions is not, a new concept in the Church. It was set down for consideration as long ago as 1947 in question 94 (82), sections a) and b) of the quinquennial report formula: Wbr6 all the persons to whom ~e administration or manage-ment o~ property is entrusted, chosen with due care, after making all the previous investigations which were necessary or useful? Were the members of the institute itself given the preference over' outsiders for offices of administration, whenever this could prudently be done without loss? The actual as well as the potential role of lay people in ecclesiastical organizations and institutions was strong!~ emphasized by Vatican II. How to use lay persons in business management of Church-related in-stitutions is not an easy question to answer in view of current canon law.16 If the .suggestion of separate civil incorporation of the educational or health care facility is combined with that of introducing lay persons onto the board of trustees, the issue of alienation of the facility comes up for serious thought. Since all or nearly all existing Catholic schools, hospitals, and so forth serving the general public have heretofore been included in the quinquen-nial report as ecclesiastical property, they may not simply be omitted from the next such report without a manifestati6n of how they ceased to be ecclesiastical property.17 Some suggestions on how to handle this matter have been given above. When considering the possibility of complete separa-tion of Catholic institutions and the introduction of lay trustees and other lay officers of administration, In See James I. O'Connor, S.J., "Investing Administrating Au-thority," Hospital Progress, v. 46 (June, 1965), pp. 66-74, 79. See Q.R., 101-2 (88-9). Businesi Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 795: there is need to consider the values at stake. The value which has most influenced religious in the past is the guaranteed control of course content and practices which have religious and moral values. These are values which deal with the preservation of faith and moral practices. The values themselves are of essential im-portance and meaning to the Church and Christian life. They are values also through which religious wish to influence all aspects of American life.18 Christian lay men and lay women cherish these values as much as do priests and religious. The question is whether administrative control by religious is any longer the best or necessary mechanism to preserve and spread these values. Religious expect the Christian banker, manufacturer, and professional man to function according to Christian principles but they do not attempt to exercise an administrative con-trol over his activities. One of the objectives of Catholic education has been to develop Christian leaders. As these leaders emerge, should they not share with religious the responsibility of policy-making and management of Catholic institu-tions? It is important today that everything be done to strengthen religious houses and religious life. It is equally important that Catholic educational and health care institutions be permitted to reach full use-fulness in their respective spheres. The challenge fac-ing religious is to organize themselves in such a manner that these two objectives may be reached as effectively and as quickly as possible. x~Well worth reading relative to the educational apostolate are: "The New Catholic College" by Nell G. McCluskey, s.J., America, v. 116 (March 25, 1967), pp. 414-7; and " 'Laicization' of Catholic Collegcs" by Andrew Greeley, Christian Century, v. 82 (March 22, 1967), pp. 372-5. 4. + John J. Fianagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANDRE AUW, c.P. An Attitude towards Community So much has been written on community that we are almost tired of the word. And yet we must continue to explore together the reality of community and to share together our common and separate failures in creating community. For it seems that we have never been more conscious of our need for community, and at the same time we have never felt more helpless in bringing it about. As one publication put it, during the past Christ-mas season: "This Christmas, too, we must celebrate the failure of community." We find ourselves rather confused, for many of our best efforts have not only failed to produce greater to-getherness, but have, in fact, produced greater isolation. Dialogue, intended to unify, has been, in many in-stances divisive. Liturgical renewal which was to serve as a bond of closer unity has all too often been a separat-ing factor. This is disturbing, because both dialogue and a meaningful liturgy must be at the very center of any structural renewal in religious life. Perhaps we have oversimplified the problem of com-munity. It is a very delicate and intricate problem and thus a problem for which there cannot be ready or easy answers. Community involves not only interper-sonal relationships but also superior-subject relation-ships. Past traditions and training affect it, as do current tides of }enewal. Commonality and differences of per-sonality, interest, needs, and work have to be considered. Other elements include such things as the size of the group, whether they work together as well as live to-gether, and how homelike is the atmosphere of their re-ligious houses. The list could be expanded considerably. Its purpose is merely to highlight the multifaceted char-acter of.the problem, so that we do not expect answers which are too ready or too easy. With this in mind, I would like to select one aspect of the problem of commuriity which might serve as a basis Andre Auw, C.P., writes ~rom 700 North Sunnyside Avenue; Sierra Ma-dre, California 91024. ~ ~' VOLUME 26, 1967 FOR 798 for a deeper study of the entire problem. I refer to a cer-tain "attitude" towards community which is an essen-tial first step towards the ultimate realization of an ex-perienced sense of community. A Sense ol Community Before discussing the elements that comprise this at-titude, let me describe in a general way what I mean by the term "community" as something experienced. Com-munity is, first of all, an experience of belonging, of feeling at home with people who need you and who know that you also need them. It is a liberating ex-perience, the freeing awareness that you can discard some of your masks with people whose primary concern is your welfare and with whom you can really relax. Community is a reassuring experience, which gives you the security of knowing that people are able to accept you even though they do not fully understand you; that they recognize your weaknesses without ever wanting to use this knowledge as a weapon against you. And if community is to be truly Christian, it must also be a joyful experience, the quietly joyful experience of being able to receive as well as to give Christian love. The sadness of non-community is the sadness of Christ not experienced. For when Christians discover the art of living together in community, when a new community is formed or an old community is formed anew, it is Christ who is born anew, made present in an incarnational manner, and who grows to maturity in the membe~:s. It is Christ's life which is shared and Christ's love which is experienced when community is experienced. However, growth from within presumes nourishment and care from without. The climate for growth must be right. Similarly, the climate for community, the attitude of the members towards community, must be right. The following remarks may serve as a background for a better understanding of a helpful attitude t,owards com-munity. Desire for Community A helpful attitude towards community contains many elements. One of these is a desire for community. This seems so obvious, and yet, existentially, it cannot be pre-sumed. Community as we have just described it involves a much deeper form of relating to one another than most religious have been accustomed to in the past. It de-mands greater openness; it pulls us more immediately and more personally into the lives of each other. This is not always understood or accepted as a positive value by religious who have been trained to regard close relation-ships as dangerous and openness as a quality reserved for dealings with one's confessor or spiritual director. For these religious, community can appear very threatening, and thus they have little, if any, desire for it. How to bring such religious to the experience of com-munity is in itself a very challenging and difficult ques-tion but is not the primary focus of this article. Later remarks may help to cast some light in this area of shadows, but the importance of its consideration as an element in the formation of a helpful attitude toward community is that we cannot presume at the outset that everyone in a religious group desires community. If the desire for community is there, we can build on that foundation, but we must determine this first. Sensitivity When the desire for community is present, another element must be considered, and that is a sensitivity towards the needs and feelings of others. This is very important, because community is a rather fragile thing in the beginning. It can never be forced or engineered. It is not the end product of any series of things-to-be-done, but rather the emergent of many adventures in interpersonal sharing. Many attempts at creating com-munity have ~ailed because they were based on the false premise that if enough things-to-be-done-together could be devised, a sense of togetherness would be the result. Doing things together is, of course, a part of the sharing necessary for community, but this can never be financed at the cost of real personal needs and feelings of the in-dividual members. Togetherness and community are not ends in themselves. This means that no matter how objectively good a project or activity might appear to be, if a large por-tion of the religious find it uncomfortable or distasteful, it should not be pursued. An evident application is in the area of the' liturgy. Most adult religious are willing to try out new liturgical practices which might render the act of worship more meaningful. But at the same time, as adults, they demand that the new liturgical expression be authentic for them. That which is authentic for a college student might not be meaningful for his teacher. A heightened sensitivity for the needs and feelings of others in such a situation could lead toward the dis-covery of some other and more personally communica-tive liturgical expression, Among other things, sensitivity brings to open aware-ness the strength level of the group. It helps us to make better use of appropriate timing in our dealings with one another and to gain a certain proficiency in detect-ing the prevailing emotional temperature of the indi-viduals as well as of the group. Sensitivity makes pru-÷ ÷ ÷ Community VOLUME 26, 1967 '/99 Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR REL[('qOUS 800 dence a living force in community'relationships,,iand thus it enables, love to grow, as it turns our ~attention, in a beautiful spirit of .listening, to the needs of othe~rs, rather than to our own. Love is an outgoing and out-pouring process, and these qualities increase as our sen-sitivity for others deepens. Sensitivity .must, in turn, be rooted in another ele~ ment which makes for a. healthy attitude toward com-munity, and that is reverence. Reverence is a deep, sacred respect for theperson. It sees in the person, a unique mirroring of God Himself, and bows down before this uniqueness. Community is experienced whe~ the uniqueness of each person, the singularly beautiful in-carnation of Christ in each of us, is shared, one with another. In fact, it is only our uniqueness that makes the unity of community possible, the integration and inter-weaving of disparate reflections into the one-prismed splendor.~ Unfortunately, something of the richness of the per-son has been lost through the years in our accent on the common life. A juridical approach to community led, historically, to a distorted concept of the commonness of the common life. An effort was made to rub out die lines of distinction so that there would be a kind of qniformity among religious. But what began, with a good inten-tion gradually developed into an aberration. The com-mon life was reduced more to the. level of a life of com-monness, Recreation, for example, became more of a devotion to rule than a time of personal re-creating. "Being there" became the prime concern, since this was a literal "fulfillment of the law," ~and a religiou.s was, very, often, harshly criticized for not being, or not want-ing to be, at recreation. The n, eeds of the person were not always considered under this heavily juridical stress on the commonality of the religious life. Community must not be so perverted. Any attempt to reduce these elements of the religious life to the lowest common denominator will also rob the individuals of the basic distinctions that they must retain and main-tain in order to create community, A fundamental rev-erence for the needs of the person must underline all community demands. Some peoplb need more group in, terraction than others; some need less. Reverence for one another recognizes these differences and respects them as sacred. If I, at times, must withdraw from the group, it does not necessarily imply that I am unwilling to share with them. It may simply mean that at the moment I am psychologically incapable of it. On the other hand, there will be times when, by the very demands of love, I will forego the satisfaction of my needs in order to meet the needs of others, even at great personal cost. But this is a decision which I must make, and for which I alone am responsible before God. The community, in a spirit of reverence, will respect this decision, communicating their acceptance of my many moods as well as of my community contributions. Love Relationships Another element that is involved in a helpful atti-tude toward community is our understanding of love relationships. We must bear in mind that love relation-ships exist on many different levels. The main levels are those of husband and wife, of parent and child, of friend and friend. But in addition there are those brief but nevertheless genuine encounters with others who may have b(en acquaintances or even strangers and who bring to us love in the form of a gift or of shared con-cern or valuable insights. Each level of love has its own beauty and its own par-ticular norms. The love of a man for his neighbor is no less sacred because it lacks something of the richer di-mension of the love he shares with his wife. These loves are simply different. This distinction has application in. the religious life, for many religious are not really very secure in the knowledge of just what kinds Of love relationships are permissible for them or appropriate for them. Some be-lieve that the only level of relating that would be ap-propriate would be a relationship marked by kindness and consid6ration but.also protected by a thick insula-tion of what is termed, psychologically, as "distance." This kind of relating is in itself good and helpful; but it is by no means adequate for a religious, espe-cially a celibate religious. For such a man or woman, deep and warm relationships as friends, are absolutely necessary. It is ironic that the greatest aid in enabling celibates to remain celibate has been for so long con-sidered celibacy's greatest enemy. Today we recognize rich human love between men and men, between women and women,°and between men and women, a love that is outgoing and selfless, a love that makes us experience our dignity and worth as persons, that makes us feel needed and wanted and lovable--this, too, is a level of love which is open to us as religious. And, in fact, it is only this~ kind of love that will enable us to grow to ma-ture fulfillment as persons. It goes without saying that such love relationships do contain a possible threat of overinvolvement, just as parenthood always contains the danger of overposses-siveness or domination. But this is abuse, and as such, Community 801 'something .to be.considered but not to be made the focal poini ~of examination. As we understand ourselves and the nature Of these love relationships, we should also grow more mature in dealing with them. A great deal of overinvolvement has beeninduced by an adolescent understanding of love relationships and bY a preoccu-pation with the fear of uncontrolled emotion. Love relationships in the religious life will vary. The rich I-Thou relationships of close friends are as r~re as they 'are beautiful. More often there will be elements a. kind o[' neighlSor~neighbor relationship :interwoven wi~h parent-child, friend,friend, and yet alwa.ys marked by a warmth that,is as Christian ag it is human, a warmth that slieaks from ,heart to heart. Our understanding of the ,varieties of. love's expres-sion as' well as the' different levels of~love relationships is 'a very important, element in the formation, of,a~healthy and helpful:.attitude,towards community. Fo~,it will be principal!~t through these love relationships that the ex-perience of community will. be shared with the individ-uals in the group. ~he Size o[ the C'o'mmunity One final factor which should be considered, although it is in.a different category from the previous elements, is the size of the .community:~ Our attitude toward the size of'the group will: affect our ability to develop a sense~ of community., 0 This has particular.meaningS for religious~who live in ¯large convents' br monasteries. The question arises: "Is it possible to have a genuine sense of community.in such large groupings of'~religious?'' Experience seems to an, swer~ in the negative; and rather than frustrate ourselves further in trying to create community in these~ large gatherings, we might think creatively~ towards, other so-lutions . dPsychologists, specializin~ in group dynamics, are un-animous, in their opinion that. the experience of com-munity is almost impossible in large groups. They pre-fer smaller cell groups of from six to eight people~ And ~ven in Sensitivity and Basic Encounter Groups, the fire" "community" of :these°smaller groups is'. seldom more than forty. But~!the principal work of ~ommunity + is achieved in the smaller gatherings.: '÷ ~ ,A number of seminaries in Europe and a fe~, in this + country have been experimenting with a sim'il~r ~concept of community. The larger community, is broke'n down .4~Ire.~luw, ~.t'. into 'sinaller."families" of seminarians clustered a~ound a~v~w ~0~ one 15riest. Most of _~the formation program is handled ~u~0us by these smaller, groups in dialogue, rather than inqec- 802 ~ture forin, as previously was done., . , Also,. on the parish, level, a number of experim, ents are going on in the inner city sections of our ,larger ~cities, using the same principle of smaller groups, formed along the lines of their common interests, and:a common desire to share together. ' This is the type of "new community" which Father Andrew Greeley refers to in a recent article. We find here a pattern which may well fit the frame of religious life. Is it not possible that the formation of smaller subgroups could be fostered within a large com-munity? At one time such a notion would have been considered anti-community. But psychology .and experi-ence both indicate that most likely the only way the entire community is going to be brought to a genuine ex-perience, of community is through the formation-of smaller subgroups, which in turn could act a.s real. leav-ening agents for the whole group. Again, there is always the possibility of sma.ller grgups turning into cliques which ingest j upon themselyes, and every~ prudent means must be taken to preclude this .eventuality. However, cliques more often than not are formed ~by people who feel rejected by the community and use these devices as means to strike back at a group they .feel: is basically unloving and non-accepting. The greatest reason for the community to give its in~- dividual ,and. collective blessing to the formation of smaller groups is that only when the individuals can open themselves up to the experience, of shared love in a smaller group will they be able to relate in a more loving way to the. community-at-large. For religious living in smaller houses, the problem is slightly different. Where there are only from five to ten religious living together, it. is hard to, have smaller sub-groups, yet even the recognition of smaller grouping as a valuable thing and the understanding of friendship as integral to a community can be of great help. But for these smaller houses, is it not possible to project the ideal of religious selecting the houses or the groupings to whichthey would feel best suited? Some communities of sisters are already experimenting with this plan. The complications are as obvious as they are numerous, and for many superiors they would be too great to imple-ment. However, it is a factor that must not be brushed aside lightly. The Church in every line of its function-ing is moving into greater dimensions of ecclesial ac-tion. Team work is becoming the hallmark of our apos-tolic activities; and team work, to be effective, presumes a gathering together of people who can and who want to work together. More and more we are beginning to appreciate the value of small groups. As our appreciation of this value ¯ Community ~ ~ ¯ VOLUME 26, 1967 :803 becomes an extended application to our religious com-munities, so our attitude towards the creation of com-munity will be increasingly helpful. Small groups are not magic gatherings. It is simply that a person can experi-ence the warmth of love better in a smaller room. Large buildings are both easy to get lost in, and impossible to heat, and too many religious, for too long, have re-mained lost, hidden, and cold, within our Christian communities. Conclusion These, then, are the elements which comprise an at-titude which is conducive to creating the experience of community: a desire for community, an increased sen-sitivity for the needs and feelings of others, a reverence for the uniqueness of persons, and an understanding of the different levels of love relationships. Finally, in the practical working-out-of-things, there is the considera-tion of the size of the group. For many these reflections will be repetitious, for some they may appear novel, and for others they may even seem rather frightening. But for all of us, they can serve as an opportunity to take a good hard look at our own attitude towards community. And hopefully our looking would lead to some kind of action. Because even talking about community is no longer good enough. We must be brave enough to risk new ventures in commu-nity and to experiment with new structures. The secular city and the inner city with their maelstrom of an-guished problems cannot wait much longer for us to dis-cover the meaning and experience of community. These people need us united in love so that we can communicate to them Christ's all embracing love and draw them into the circle of His family, of His com-munity. But none of this can be accomplished until we know, by experience, the reality of community. There is, in the very air around us, a note of urgency. We need community. We need it desperately. And we need it now. Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 GARY F. GREIF, S.J. The Vows and Christian t fe The life of the vows, as a form of Christian life, pre-sents special problems today for understanding. It has always been clear that this is merely one of the forms of Christian life and that the other forms are equally valid. Nevertheless, the life of the vows has been pro-posed traditionally as something special in Christian life; and 'for this reason its adoption has been said to demand a special call from God. As not everyone, is called to live this form of Christian lif~, not everyone can be expected to live it; and besides, there are other forms of ChriStian life. And if these are not as exalted as the life of the vows, they are just as valid. This is the traditional view. But today one can clearly sense severe doubts about this position, if not complete repudiation of its central thesis. It may be granted that not everyone is called .to live with vows; but it may also be asked whether anyone should live such a life, and therefore whether, in our day, such a call may not be a passing reality, to be perpetuated only through delusion. This sceptical attitude stems partly from a growing awareness of the dignified role of the layman in Chris-tian life, and as well from an understanding of human life which seems to render traditional arguments for the perfection of the vows fallacious. If the layman is not simply to await the nod from ecclesiastical authority before taking initiative in the Christian community for its welfare but is to act responsibly according to the legitimate inspirations he receives from the Holy Spirit, then leadership in the Christian community does not be-long exclusively to a privileged class,x Every Christian 1 See ~iatican II, Lumen gentium (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church), The Documents of Vatican II, ed. Walter ~M. Abbott, s.J. (New York: America Press, 1966), p. 30: %. [the Holy Spirit] dis-tributes special graces among the faithful of every rank. By these gifts He makes them fit and ready to undertake the various tasks or offices advantageous for the renewal and upbuilding of the + + + Gary GreiL S.J., is a member of Regis College; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willowdale, On-tario; Canada. ~ , VOLUME 26, 1967,. ;~ , 805 ÷ ÷ plays an important role in the concerns of the Church; and it is becoming increasingly more evident that the layman can perform as well, if not at times better, func-tions previously reserved to priests and religious. Fur: thermore, wherea~ men and women with vows are in-capable of experiencing directly many of the common aspects of Christian life, such as raising a family, provid-ing for one's own economic security, and the often pain-ful decisions this entails, the layman can speak with firsthand acquaintance with these affairs in attempting to improve and advance Christianity. With this aware-ness, much advice from religious can sound like de-tached theory with little or no connection with the data. And since the greater part of mankind is in fact not bound by the three vows, it may seem that those who are cannot possibly relate realistically to problems where they arise with greatest frequency. Then there are the traditional arguments for the life of the vows, arguments which at present appear lacking in appreciatio.n of immanent human values. Through the vows, it has been argued, a Christian. empties him-self, ,undergoes a sort of martyrdom, and thereby makes' it possible for God to fill his .being.2 This emptying proceeds by denying oneself possessions, sexual pleasure, and personal decision. The, problem with this argument, of course, is that none of these is, of itself, an obstacle to the life of God. God works in and through human values and not in spite of them; or, to speak tradition-ally, grace builds on nature. And though there is risk in living according .to human potentiality, nothing is gained simply by placing oneself in a situation in which risk is eliminated. For elimination of risk e.ntails elimi-nation of possibility for growth and development. And besides, if pr)vate possessions, the use of sexuality, and personal decision were simply obstacles, to growth in the life of God, most Christians would be unable to live with unreserved dedication their roles in the world. The more seriously they would dedicate themselves to living Church . " Also, see Apostolicam actuositatem (Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity), p. 64: "An individual layman, by reason of the knowledge, competence, or outstanding ability which he may enjoy, is permitted and sometimes even obliged to express his opinion on things which concern the good of the Church)' Here-after, all references to thd documents of Vatican lI will be to the Abbott edition: 2Thus, according to Jacques Gervais, O.M.I., in "The End and' the Means in Religious Life," (Donum Dei, n. 10 [Ottawa, 1965],~' pp. 86-7), the purpose of the vows "is to produce that empty space in the heart, that interior poverty and complete detachment that opens the door for the flood of paschal grace. That void and that poverty are essential tb every Christian life . The vows dispose us more surely, more completely, more efficaciously to create this void." a Christian life, the more guilty they would have to feel~for involving themselves in normal human affairs. Another argument for the life of the vows looks upon involvement in normal human affairs as at best a detour on the road. to God. Through the vows a Christian fs enabled to proceed directly to God, without the neces-sity of entanglement in "worldly" concerns,a Through the vows, one can live only for God, and thus can move with greater speed toward the common goal of all Chris-tians. Or, if one prefers a different metaphor, we can consider the route of those without the vows as the usual way to God, and the course of those with the vows as a shortcut. Whichever way we view it, this argument is based on the premise that what is relinquished through the vows hinders a life of union with God. The argu-ment therefore suffers the same inadequacy as the pre-vious one. Because these arguments have seemed deficient, a more positive argument for the life of the vows has become popular today. Through the vows a Christian gives wit-ness to the eschatological nature of the ChurchA For by renouncing fundamental temporal values, the Christian bears witness to the transcendental or transtemporal as-pect of the Church's nature. A life of the vows thus bears public witness to the eschatological nature of the Church, representing the goal or final purpose of the life of the Church as prefigured in those of her members who live only for that goal and who make this explicit and public. Clearly, all Christians must live in the faith and hope of this goal. But, on this theory, only those Christians publicly manifest this fact who explicitly re-nounce in their lives fundamental and purely temporal values. As appealing as this theory seems to many, as an ar-gument for the central and fundamental meaning of the life of the vows it suffers from two defects. The first stems from de facto considerations. If this argument is to s Robert F. Lechn'er, C.PP.S. seems to say this in his article "In the Light of Divine Love" (Donum Dei, no. 4 [Ottawa, 1962], p. 34): "The religious, however, with a boldness and excess we allow only to lovers, does not deny creatures but simply turns his back upon them and forgets everything but God." 4See J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Presence," in REvmw FOE RELtCIOUS, V. 23 (1964), pp. 6-14; Robert F. Lechner, G.PP.S., "In the Light of Divine Love," pp. 36-40; John D. Gerken, S.J., Towards a Theology of the Layman (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963), esp. pp. 56-71, in which the author sets out Karl Rahner's theory on the meaning of the vows according to their value for wituess. A translation of one of Rahner's recent articles on this subject can be found in Religious Orders in the Modern World (Westminster: Newman, 1966), pp. 41-75, under the title "The Theology of the Religious Life." The theory here is essentially the witness-theory. 4, 4, ÷ The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 80'/ 4. 4. 4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 808 carry any real force, it must be possible to maintain that the Christian who lives according to the values foregone through the vows cannot in fact bear the type of public witness which is possible through a life of the vows. If he were able to give such witness, the vows would serve no purpose as such. But is this in fact impossible? Does not the married man who makes great sacrifices out of love for God bear witness to God's transcendence over purely temporal values? And does the manager of a busi-ness not give this same witness when he foregoes mone-tary gain through love and respect for the Church's teaching on social justice? It may be argued that this witness is not formally given, by such Christians since their precise motive cannot be made public in their ac-tions. It does not take long, however, for the reasons for true Christian behavior to become known, especially in a society permeated with non-Christian values.5 The second defect of this theory is that the vows, con-sidered as means for giving witness to the transcendent aspect of the Church, can only indirectly affect personal growth in perfection. In order for one to grow in love of God by giving witness, he must do so because this is how God wants him to serve the Church. Even if we. admit that pronouncing the vows is necessary in order to achieve this, we cannot hold, on this theory, that pronouncing the vows is directly intended by God in calling a person to be a witness. The witnessing itself is what God would directly want, whereas He would only indirectly desire that vows be pronounced, since these would be essential conditions for the type of witness to be given. This means that a person answering such a call would fulfill what it primarily and directly intends only while actually witnessing. And this is not achieved simply through .existing with the vows but demands further activity and circumstances whereby others may recognize what existence with the vows implies. If it be-came impossible for one existing with the vows per-sonally tO give witness, his vows would become per-sonally meaningless, since they would not be a means for his serving the Church and thus would cease to be a means for personal perfection. It cannot be denied that one living a life of the vows gives witness, nor that this witness is valuable. But the question in point is, what is the precise character of this witness. If the vows achieve some personal value for the one l~ronouncing them, this ~ See Vatican II, Lumen gentium, pp. 59-60: "Thus every layman, by virtue of the very gifts bestowed upon him, is at the same time a witness and a living instrument of the mission of the Church herself . " And ibid., p. 65: "Each individual layman must stand before the world as a witness to the resurrection and life of the Lord J'esus and as a sign that God lives." should govern the specific nature of whatever witness can be given through them. It is the value that is achieved through the life of the. vows that makes wit-nessing possible, and not witnessing that makes possi-ble a value for the life of the vows. What is, then, the value achieved through the vows? .s, simple answer does not seem initially possible. And' at the present stage of reflection 6n the meaning of the vows, a stage in history conditioned by extreme complex-ity, any attempt at an answer must be strictly an attempt, open to revision and clarification. The attempt that fol-lows is meant, then, to be merely a sketch of a possible approach to the meaning of the vows. And because the vows do not place one outside the general flow of Chris-tian life but are one of the forms of its realization, it will be important, in attempting to determine the mean-ing of the vows, to consider briefly the meaning of Chris-tian life itself. For it is this meaning that is realized in manifold manners; and if any of the forms which realize it are to be understood properly, that which they realize must be understood. All that is true of Christians in gen-eral must .hold true of Christians with vows. Not only, then, can one with vows not sacrifice what belongs es-sentially to being a Christian, but the meaning of the vows cannot adequately be grasped apart from an un-derstanding of the meaning of Christian life in general. Christian Life in General The realization of God's lov(for man, through Christ, is the meaning of Christian life in general. But due to the essentially historical nature of Christ's redeeming act, no man can realize God's love apart from the living activity of the Church, This means that, if man is to realize to any extent at all the meaning of his existence, the People of God will play an essential role in his life. Whateve~ the abstract possibilities may be for encounter-ing God, there can be no encounter of Him by man, as he presently exists, apart from the mediating activity of the Church.6 This consideration is of prime impor-tance for achieving any proper understanding of the pos-sibilities open to man in his radical search for the mean-ing of life in general and of his own life in particular. Perfection cannot be achieved by man through a ground-ing of free choice in a philosophical World-absolute. Nor can it be realized by simply answering a totally trans-cendent being who calls from the distant regions of an unperceivable kingdom. God's call to man now is neces-sarily vocalized through the Church. His call, there-n See E. Schillebeeckx, O. P., Christ the Sacrament, trans. Paul Barrett, O. P. and N. D. Smith (New York: Sheed and Ward, Stag-books, 1964). The ltows " VOLUME 26, 1967 809 4. Gary l~ : Greiy, $.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 fore, comes, to us. immediately as something concrete, per-ceptible, temporal, and human: This is true, even though the source of this call is in itself, unperceivable, eternal, and divine. And it is .true, even though men who receive it may not be aware of its immediate source. Anyone who thinks that he has a relationship with God which is simply immediate, or totally unmediated, is far from the truth. It would be just as erroneous to conceive one's relationship with God as a totally per-so. n-to-person,, individual-to-individual affair. For God can be encountered only' thro.ugh the activity of His Church, and therefore all personal,relationship.with God is essentially communal. The Church is precisely a peo-ple, a community established in the loving power of God and r~tufning that love through_ .its personal response.¢ God does, through Christ,, open Himself to individuals in lov~ and2.asks for their individual response in love. But this of~dr, is made through the comm.unity .of the People of God,,~and it is in this community that God is encountered. Whoever, therefore, responds to God's call for personal love of Himself is included ~within the com-munity through which and in which the call is made. No one, .therefore, approaches the, Father except through the Son; and since the Son is incarnate and made present to us now through His Church, all must encounter God through Christ as present in His com-munity. A further point to be attended to is that the mediating role of the Church is not aft undifferentiated, inert instrum~ntality of some sort. For.the Church is a living community, 'a complex reality as alive and com-plex~ as Christ Himself who she is and whose love and life she continues visibly in the temporal order. In medi-ating God's .love to man and man's response in love to God, the Church has diverse manners of expressing its life, among which" seven are primary. As visible embodi-ments and mediators of the personal love of God, these are called sacraments. And as deriving their meaning and role. frbm~,the Church itself, they ,are means .of en-countering' God in Christ; Man can,~ of course; encounter Christ in' all human and temporal,reality and activity. But every contact a man has with God in Christ finds its culmination and proper realization in~ ,the sacraments. For every ,realization of God's love is sacramental, in-cluding that which, as achieved apart from the 'sacra- . 7See Lumen gent~urn, p. 25: "It has pleased God, however to make men 'holy a~hd save them not merely as~ individuals witho6t any mutual bonds, but bymaking them into a single people,, a people which acknowlddges Him in truth and_ serves Him in holi-ness." The Latin text i~ more forceful, saying simply "Placuit tamen Deo homines non singulatim, quavis mutua connexion~ seclusa, sanctificare ~t salvare . " (,4eta ,4t~ostolica~' Sedis, ~. ~7 [Jan. 30, 1985], pp. 12-1~, n. 9 [italics added]). ments themselves, reaches its fullness only in the sac-raments. Therefore, though God can be encountered outside the sacraments, such encounter is always achieved as an incipient realization of full and proper encounter with Christ, the sacrament of the encounter with God, in the seven sacraments. And since these sacraments achieve meaning and reality in and ,through the. life of the Church, we can say that man encounters God only in and through encounter with the Church.s Man initially encounters God in His Church, in an explicit and fully committed mahner, when he is bap-tized. 9 In this, sacramental act he is committed funda-mentally and totally to the love of God, thus entering in a" radical manner an unconditional love relationship with the People of God through whom the relationship is made possible and realized. Since this commitment is unconditional, it necessarily calls forth and centers all the vital aspects of the baptized in the person who has opened Himself in love. This means that the commit ment is visible, expressing outwardly .the total dedication arid transformation of the entire person. This expres-sibn in visibility of the baptismal commitment, since it is mediated through the community which is explicitly and visibly in union with God through love of Christ, entails explicit commitment, to the community of the People of God.'~ Since this commitment is of the entire person/it trans-cends thd limitations of space and time. In this one act 0[ dedication, the entire past and future' of th~ person is ~ollect'ed in a single moment. All that the person has been is called upon to direct and channel all that he will become in and through the single act of loving commitment.' His entire future is prelived through the ac~ of present realization of all he has been. The bap-tismal commitment dferefore encompasses the total real-ity of tl~e person so entering a love relationship with God. But a person's Iife work is not finished in this single act: For though he is committed for all time and in every place and circumstance, he has not lived out his entire 'life, in this act, through all its concrete actuality. His commitment, though complete as such, must be in-tensified and developed through the fuller development and intensification of his personal existence. This is what it'means to live out a commitment. Nevertheless, though the*initial act of total love made possible through bap-tis'm must be' developed, the lines along which it can be developed are initially structured by the meaning of the commitment itself. The commitment made at baptism is one of love and See Schilleb.eeckx, Christ the Sacrament, esp. pp. 223-9. 8 Ibid., pp. 176-9. + + + .The ,Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 81:1 specifically of love for God in Christ through the com-munity of the People of God. The meaning of this com-mitment can therefore be sketched briefly according to the meaning of human love and according to the spe-cific constituents of the Christian love situation. 4- 4- 4- Gary F. GreiF, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 The Meaning of Human Love Human love always involves the entire being of the individual.10 For love is achieved when an individual offers himself, by all that he is, to another, and in this act receives the other's total offer of himself. Love arises in a situation of complete mutuality, such that the to-tal giving of oneself is at the same time a total receiving of oneself. This total giving and receiving in the situa-tion of love, however, never constitutes concretely the complete perfection of the individuals involved as long as it occurs within the purely human order. Neverthe~ less, it does constitute their complete perfection in prin~ ciple; that is, it establishes the basis for meaningful hu-man development. For, as open by nature to indefinite possibility for self-realization, man in fact proceeds by degrees to the realization of what he is in principle; and there can be no a priori limits set to the degree of per-fection he can achieve concretely. Furthermore, what governs his development is what in principle is unlim-ited in perfection. He can, and does, develop according to the realization of values which in principle are lim-ited; but his development according to such values pro-ceeds in an undistorted manner only if it is governed constantly by a value which in principle is proportion~ ate to his nature, that is, by a value which is in princi-ple unlimited. And since, in the human order, only hu-man individuals can constitute in principle the value according to which a man's entire development can proceed properly, since only human individuals are in principle unlimited as capable of indefinite develop-ment, it is only in and through love that an individual can discover true meaning to his life. For each human individual is unlimited openness, ~in openness which is not some empty space to be filled up, but which is a dynamic activity to be progressively real-ized in greater perfection. What, therefore, no one hu-man individual can constitute through himself alone, each can discover through another. No one individual can constitute for himself unlimited value, for every lo The phenomenology for what follows can be found in Martin Buber's 1 and Thou (trans. Ronald Gregor Smith [New York: Scrib-ner's, 1958]), a, nd Between Man and Man (trans. Ronald Gregor Smith [London: Fontana Library, 1947]); and in F. J. J. Buytendijk's Phdnomdnologie de la rencontre (trans~ Jean Knapp [Descl& de Brouwer, 1952]). human individual is in fact limited. But when one in-dividual, as dynamic openness, offers himself, by all that he is and can be, to another such openness, and the other responds by all that he is and can be by offering himself to the first, each becomes ordered to being totally ful-filled through the active self-giving of the other. And though this fulfillment exists only in principle, or as a value to be progressively realized, it establishes the basis for the life project of working out fulfillment in con-crete detail. It is in this situation of mutual self-giving that the human individual discovers what alone can ful-fill his nature. Only what is unlimited perfection can constitute a value adequate for the development of the human individual. And only through the situation of mutual and total self-giving can this value be recognized. It is therefore in the situation called love that a per-son discovers and properly begins to realize the meaning of his existence. And though this meaning is revealed through human love, it points beyond the merely hu-man situation to that person who is not simply in prin-ciple unlimited in perfection but is unlimited in fact. In every human love situation, there is a built-in in-adequacy stemming from the necessary limitation in fact of the human individual. For man is in principle a dynamic possibility for indefinite development in per-fection, and as such, can never be unlimited perfection in fact. When one person opens himself to another com-pletely and thus accepts the other in an unlimited manner, he commits himself to the other as in principle unlimited in perfection. Nevertheless, he is aware of the factual limitation of the other and intends both for him-self and the other fulfillment through realization of re-lation with one who is unlimited in fact. In this sense, God is present in every purely human love situation, and it is God alone who can perfectly situate man in a to-tally fulfilling act of love. Implications of Human Love The term "love" is used so widely these days, in so many diverse contexts and with so many different mean-ings, that it seemed imperative to give this brief outline of its meaning as the fundamental value in man's life. On the basis of what we have indicated, we can make a few observations about the manner in which the love situation must be lived out by all who are consistent with the value it constitutes. Since this situation involves mutuality of self-giving, those situated in it must be at-tentive to the needs, desires, projects, judgments, and in general, to all the vital forces operative in one another's lives. This attention must be sincere, that is, given with the entire being of those involved, for the mutuality of VOLUME 26, 1967 81,~ ÷ ÷ Gary F. Gre~, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 the love situation calls for the concrete realization of what it entails i~t principle. This attention to the existence of the other does not mean, therefore, that one person simply subordinates himself completely to an-other, such that the other becomes his complete master and he becomes a slave. Such complete subordination would preclude any realization of the mutuality de-manded by love. Nevertheless, within the context of mu-tuality, it may be the case that one person will be more capable than the other in certain areas of life; and thus, though the more capable can never demand respect at the expense of mutuality in self-giving, he can desire and has a right to hope that the other will allow him to exercise his capability for the other's benefit. For both are dedicated to the well-being of the other by giving themselves to one another in love. This means, of course, that the one exercising his capability for the other, will himself constantly be open to receiving the being of the other in this exercise and will himself receive what the other has to offer him. The .love situation thus entails a spirit of obedience, which is fundamentally the attentiveness of those in-volved to one another in all the concrete details of the life-project to which they have mutually committed themselves. It has its source in mutuality of self-giving which is total and uncompromising. If this spirit is not present, dedication in love is empty of meaning and reality; and what is announced as love is merely some form of selfishness and self-centeredness. Only that person who is completely perfect in fact can claim the right never to commit himself in obedience to another. For only such a person could claim absolute ability to know what is best for the other and could give promise of achieving this. And yet, not even such a completely perfect person, acting consistently with love, could de-mand slavery of the other; for this would mean that he would not be offering himself to the other but only us-ing the other for his own ends. If love, as the fundamental value in man's life, must situate all other values, it nevertheless does not, of it-self, spell out all the values which man can discover in life, Among these values are those which arise from man's need to possess goods for his continued existence and well-being. It is the nature of possession that what is possessed is subordinate to the possessor; for it de-rives its value as existing simply for him, to be used by him for his own well-being. Such use is legitimate, if what is possessed has in principle of itself perfection less than that of the possessor. For then there is no distortion in subordinating it to oneself. On the other hand, the use of one man by another would constitute distortion of the reality of both, for no man is by nature inferior to another. The only valid stance that can be taken to a human individual is that which regards the other as perfect in principle as oneself. There can only be a material similarity between the way we at times treat other men and the way we treat what is inferior to men. For though men must at~times be operated-on, or analyzed, or taught to perform certain functions, none of these activities can ever be conducted in abstraction fromthe fact that they regard what in principle is far superior to a mere living organism or a set of subhu-man data. Mere organisms and mere data can be pos-s: essed and controlled by man; but possession and un-qualified control of man by man is inconsistent with the meaning of human existence. There is, therefore, a spirit which breathes through th~ love situation precluding the possession and use of another. Possession can be valid when there is question of satisfying human needs through what is, by its na-ture, subordinate to man. But not even possession such as this can lay any claim to. totally fulfilling human existence. As a valid means for living out this existence, it must always be situated within the one absolute value f6r man. Any activity which either contradicts or is car-ried on in abstraction from the context of love must ultimately bear distorted fruit. Because man is bodily and his drive for ultimate satis-faction in perfection involves himself as bodily, one of the common forms of possession and use of others is subordination for mere sexual gratification. One cannot prescind from the sex of the person loved, for the total being of the person is situated in love. On the other hand, because the human individual is open to an in-definite degree of perfection, his perfection does not consist simply in bodily fulfillment. Whoever therefore would seek"in another merely bodily satisfaction, even though iu this act looking to the bodily, satisfaction of the other, would be acting outside the context of love and thus would effect distortion of himself and the other. For love situates human individuals in total and mutual self-giving, and any approach to another less than total, prescinding frbm the nature of man as such, cannot be situated in love. We can enter love only if we enter it bodily; there can never be for man in this life an angelic form of love. But the meaning of man's bod-ily being depends upon the context in which it is de-termined. Its fullest meaning can therefore be deter-mined only in the context of love, for it is this context which reveals the fullest meaning of man himself. If the meaning° of sex is established from a purely bio-logical or psychological basis, questions concerning its ÷ ÷ ¯ The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 815 ÷ ÷ Gary F. Greit, $4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 816 proper role in human activity can never adequately be resolved. For human bodily relations achieve their full and proper meaning only in the context of full and proper 'human self-realization. And since man can only properly realize himself through another in love, he will never properly understand himself and his bodily, ac-tivity if~ he prescinds from this context. All use of sex must proceed through a spirit of chastity, for it is this spirit which is operative in the recognition of the human person's value. Sexuality is by no means of itself evil, but it can be distorted and thus made evil, if it is conducted at the expense of an-other's total meaning. Within the-context of love, one can determine the manner in which he will effectively work out his relationship with others; and this may or may not entail the exercise of genital sexuality. When it does, the love which situates the exercise of genital sex-uality will give it a properly human meaning. For there is no one simple meaning to genital sexuality. We can designate it minimally as that expression and realiza-tion of man's sexuality which is genitally oriented. But the further meaning this has in the concrete will vary according to the contexts which realize it. Genital sex-uafity, then, will be fully human if it emerges in the context of true human love, for then it will he inte-grated in the true meaning of the person. Since, how-ever, total mutual self-giving establishes a situation which, because of the dynamic natures of those it situ-ates, must be lived out in varying concrete detail, it need not entail communication through bodily existence according to all the possibilities for its realization. When it is realized through exercise of genital sexuality, the communication must be governed by the fundamental situation which gives full meaning to all forms' of human expression. The moment one truly enters love, all misuse of sex is precluded as a possibility, to the extent that the love situation is effectively maintained. Christian Love These three aspects of love clearly embody the spirit of the evangelical counsels. We have been discussing, how-ever, the meaning of human love in general; :and there-fore more has to be said before the specific meaning of explicit Christian love can be brought into focus. Love is explicitly Christian when it' situates a community of people in receptive openness to God in the person of Christ. When one loves as a Christian, explicitly in-volving himself in this love, he enters a community, established through the love of Christ, whose sole mean-ing is the realization of God's love for man. As an ex-plicit community, it entails structure and organization; but this is subordinate to the primary meaning of the community as a people responding to, and making pos-sible response to the self-giving of God to man. All that has been said so far concerning the general mean-ing of love becomes more determinate in the context of explicitly Christian love; for Christian love is not some totally unrelated form of love. It embodies whatever can be' said of love in general, and does so in a pecu-liarl~ significant nianner. Christian love promises what no merely human love can validly promise. It promises the complete.fulfillment of man through personal union with the absolutely perfect person of the Father, achieved through the equally perfect person of His Son, bb~h of whom pour out their love in the person of the Holy Spirit. The distinguishing factor in Christian love, then, is that'it situates the human individual in personal union with God in and through a community established by Christ for this. purpose. The communal aspect of Chris-tian love is of the highest 'significance. Just as those situ-ated in merely human love are committed to look after the needs and to respect the freedom of one another, so those~situated in explicitly Christian love must look to the needs and responsible decisions of the community. This means that the Christian must be seriously con-cerned, not only with the properly ecclesial affairs o[ the Church, but must also take seriously the temporal needs and concerns of the People of God. It means further that, not only the needs and concerns of those who explicitly belong to the Christian community but also the needs and concerns of all those who are in-cipiently and implicitly Christian and of all who are or-dered to Christian life by the dignity of their being must be looked after by the Christian. For Christ meant His love to embrace all men, and whoever professes to love Christ must share this same concern. The meaning of Christian life in general therefore in-volves, in broadest outline, love of God, realized through love of Christ in and through a community established for and by this love in the life of the Spirit. But it in-volves as well the three characteristics of human love we indicated previously. Since these play an essential role in understanding the place of the three vows in Christian life, it is important that their implications for Chris-tian life in general be clearly understood. The first of these characteristics is that of responsiveness to the in-sights, judgments, opinions, and convictions of those situated in love. Anything less would imply that real mutuality were absent, and thus that no real love situa-tion existed. In the Christian community of love, this means that everyone, no matter what his status, must be The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 817 ÷ ÷ respected in the decisions which each member of the commudity takes in regard to the ~whole. No one can simply be excluded from the formatio.n of such de-cisions, for everyone in the com_munity is interrelated through the personal love of~ God, and the ,community itself exists to bring men into~ intimate union,with God through personal response ~to Christ's love. Some in the community clearly have the role of finally determi~ning courses of action, of-~ taking,~ the initiative in certain spheres of activity, of passing final judgment on affairs. But~no matter,, what the status of any member ,[._the community may be, if the situation of IQve which funda-, mentally constitutes the commu.nity is to be seriouslyLre.- sp~cted, all must be respected in whatever action or. de-cision is taken. Purely authoritarian or autocratic rule has no place in the People of God. God alone0can claim perfection sufficient to indicate what is right and wrong without ~onsulting. But not ev~en God expects a pure)y p~issive submission from His people; for His relationship, to them is one of love; and this means that He awaits constantly, their response to: Him through.all that~ they are, including their powers of decision and judgment. , The ~econd characteristic of love ,is that it is achieved only, if possession is never allowed to extend to another person. This ~means that possession and possessions are always 6f secondary value.to,.a true Christian and that no, person, can be uged for one's own ~well-being. Wealth may-play an important role in the Christian community, .but its role is always secondary to the role of strictly per-sonal values., Real scandal can be caused by Christians "who give the impression that their possessions, are what matter most,,'to them or who ,~seem .to identify their Christianity with the value of wealth.~Being poor .does not necessarily,° in this context, mean that one is desti-tute, nor that one does not live comfortably; but it does mean that one considers .all.his possessions secondary to the value of giving and receiving in love. It would be just as fal.se for a Christian .to amass great wealtti at the exp~fi'se of.the personal well-being of others, as it would for a~ Christian to be very frugal in matters of material possessi6ns .while~.sa(rificing the, sensibil

Issue 51.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1992. ; for religi.ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯-VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington~ D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents evangelizing and witnessing ° 486 Church of the Poor Juan Ram6n Moreno sJ reflects on the implications of seeing the poor as central for the identity of the church and religious life. 496 Women Missioners amidst Violence Annmarie Sanders IHM reflects the questions, fears, and chal-lenges facing foreign women missionaries in Peru. 504 School of Terror Roy Bourgeois MM speaks on behalf of the poor as he voices his concern about a particular military training camp called the School of the Americas. inculturating 508 Women Religious and the African Synod M. Gerard Nwagwu offers her thoughts on the evangelization of Africa in an article originally presented as the keynote address at the National Day of Celebration of the Nigerian Conference of Women Religious in January 1992. 519 Rerooting Religious Life in South Africa Jennifer Mary Alt OP reflects on how native African spiritual values might become better integrated into the religious-life vocation. 527 54O 545 living religiously Religious Life and Religion Albert DiIanni SM calls attention to the religious core of a belief in God and of our relationship with God which cannot be reduced to a personal~ social, or ecological morality. Detachment in Our Psychological Age Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ explains detachment as a way of freeing ourselves from our compulsive behaviors and opening ourselves to God's healing. An Ache in My Heart Bernard Seif SMC witnesses to the continuing call and direction of God in bringing forth new forms of dedicated life in the " church. 482 Review Jbr Religious focusing religious life 550 Religious Life in Church Documents Patricia F. Walter OP presents some aspects identifying religious life in conciliar and postconciliar documents of the magisterium. 562 The Ignatian Charism of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ shows how the Spiritual Exercises per-meate Jean-Pierre M~daille's Maxims of Perfection and so fire an Ignatian spirit for the Sisters of St. Joseph. 575 Envisioning Associate Identity Rose Marie Jasinski CBS reflects on the status of the associate movement in the light of the second national conference held 5-7 May 1991. 581 Musings about Vocations James E. Claffey CM finds vocation ministry a stimulant to a broader understanding of how God breaks into our history. 585 595 600 614 484 625 632 ministering Pastoral Leadership beyond the Managerial (XL*~ Matthias Neuman OSB stresses the role of spiritual leadership in the midst of ministry challenges. Scarcity and Abundance in Parishes Thomas P. Sweetser SJ compares the parish to a desert of scarci-ties, but at the same time a desert beautiful with hidden wells of life. Marian Community and Ministry Patrick Primeaux SM combines data from both the theological and businessomanage.ment disciplines to distinguish a Petrine and a Marian way of ministering and of living community. Three Images of Priesthood Henry J. Charles proposes the images of priest as collaborator, mystagogue, and holy man for a renewed understanding of priesthood. departments Prisms /~ Canonical Counsel: Involuntary Ex~laustration Book Reviews .l~uly-Augu.ct 1992 483 prisms History happens. We human beings can write our history books and, by emphasis and omission and sometimes by romanticizing, make as if we are mas-ters of our history. It may take only some seventy years for the rewriting of the Communist history of Russia or it may take five hundred years for the European discovery of the Americas to be reevaluated. But it happens. We say that Pope John XXIII made history when he called the Second Vatican Council. We are well aware that the church experienced, through the actions of the bishops present at the council, something that has been likened to a second Pentecost. For our own availability to the God of history, we need to return again and again to the happening of that first Pentecost and the subsequent events as recorded in the Acts of the Apostles. God's Spirit makes things happen, even when the very persons involved seem so little capable of being the crafters of history. Most recently Pope John Paul II has expressed his own desire to make history by his call for a new evangelization, partic-ularly occasioned by our entering into the third millen-nium. This call to a new evangelization holds the promise of another moment of this second Pentecost that came with Vatican II. It is history happening, in which none of us is the master or control-artist, but every one of us plays an important role--with the Spirit's direction. Evangelization--new evangelization--demands much of us all. A paradigm of evangelization and inculturation captures our attention anew as we reflect upon the events in the Acts of the Apostles. It means that no one can hold himself or herself exempt from the call of this second moment of the second Pentecostqthe call to a new hear- 484 Review for Religious ing of good news. This is not the time for new rules or the impo-sition of old ones--the Judaizers tried that two thousand years ago. It is the time for Cornelius, his wife, and household to invite Peter once again to proclaim the gospel so that new conversion on everyone's part can take place. It is the time for Peter to dream new dreams and hear God telling him that old restrictions do not apply in a new creation moment. One of the deepest meanings of Pentecost lies in the fact that all peoples heard the good news in a way that they could under-stand and respond to. It goes beyond the language barrier to breakthroughs involving customs, heritages, and rituals. In the Pentecost beginnings, Jesus Christ and the gospel message needed no inculturation. In the new evangelization as in the original one recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, it is not Jesus Christ who needs to be inculturated; he is already a confidant of people's hearts. It is his church that must be inculturated by being evan-gelized anew as well as by evangelizing others. The Acts of the Apostles--the story of the first evangelizing time--portrays the exhilarating and somber picture that inculturating a church does not come without cost--a cost which everyone must bear in lis-tening to ~hocking good news, in experiencing a certain amount of turmoil, in suffering the pain of differences expressed vigorously by people who serve or are served. John Paul II has said that "we need an evangelization that is new in its ardor, new in its method, new in its expressions." That ' is what we--always the disciples--must allow to happen to our-selves first: to be evangelized anew in order to be the new evan-gelizers. We need to rethink how to inculturate a church, not a gospel. If the original Jewish and pagan converts to the new Christian faith seemed to share little common religious heritage and ritual and yet, with struggle, came to form the Body of Christ, can we today not recognize the imperative of a new evangelization demanding the same kind of breakthrough for traditionalists, lib-erals, feminists, or whatever modern-day version an appeal to the party of Apollos or Paul takes? A new evangelization brings the excitement of discovery into our own lives and so into our church. Let the Spirit lead. It has happened; it will happen again. David L. Fleming SJ ~uly-Augu~t 1992 485 JUAN RAMON MORENO Church of the Poor evangelizing and witnessing Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ was one of six Jesuits mur-dered along with an employee and her daughter by Salvadoran military forces at the Jesuit residence of the Central American University, San Salvador, on 16 November 1989. He was widely known as a spiritual director, teacher, preacher, and giver of retreats and conferences and was the founder and editor of the spirituality journal Diakonfa. Besides holding other responsibilities, at various times he was novice director for the Jesuits of Central America, local superior, university professor, and president of the Panamanian and Nicaraguan con-ferences of religious. This article was first published in Diakonfa 7 (1978): 17-28 and republished in a collection of Father Moreno's writings, Evangelio y misidn (San Salvador: UCA Editores, 1990). The translation is by James R. Brockman SJ with the permission of UCA Editores. The footnotes are the translator's. The term "church of the poor" is meant to express a new awareness of what it is to be church, an awareness that is growing in force among Christians in Latin America. The following thoughts are proposed as a help toward under-standing the foundation and principal traits of this way of viewing the church. Church of the Poor and Vatican II The schema on the church elaborated by the precon-ciliar doctrinal commission brought together the ecclesi-ology traditionally taught in recent centuries, and the 486 Review for Religious that allow one to recognize in Jesus the hoped-for Messiah are that "the blind see and the lame walk., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:5), what should be the traits that make recognizable Jesus' church? Church Born from Below Vatican II has allowed us to pass from a church that becomes conscious of itself and is organized and structured fr0m within, from itself, to a church that seeks to understand and structure itselffr0m without, from the world that it has been sent to in order to make God's kingdom grow in that world. Nevertheless, the reality that the world is a divided world had not yet made its full impact on the council. Consequently, the challenges to which it more directly proposes to respond are those of a world seen too much from above, from the angle of the learned and the skilled, from the culture and the perspective of the dominant classes. But at Medellfn2 the Latin American bishops began to express in an inspired and probing manner the conflictive reality of our world. The cry of the impoverished majority of the continent found an echo. The church began to become aware of itself and to organize and structure its life and pastoral action not from an abstract world or from just any part of the real, concrete world, but from below, from the world of the poor, and from there to fashion itself as the true church of Christ. Church of the Poor One must not confuse church of the poor with church3'br the poor. A church for the poo~r would be a church that is constituted in a first step that is logically prior to its encounter with the poor and then, in a second step, seeks out the poor to serve and help them. But the church of the poor is a church that in its very con-stitution has the poor as its center. There is no doubt that the church, as the historical body of Christ, must place itself in the world to transform it and to make present in it the reign of God. It must be incarnated, that is, take a body, become a visible and acting institution. But the problem is, what are the criteria that are to determine its institutional shape? What body will it take? Faithful to the incarnational logic of Jesus, the church must take the body of the poor, incorporat-j~ uly-.4ugust 1992 489 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor ing the poor, making the poor to be those who make up what is characteristic and determinant of its body, which is structured and takes visible form from the cause and the interests of the poor. Let us take a Gospel passage that graphically illustrates this, which is the particular way of acting of Jesus. I choose the short scene with which Mark begins his third chapter. He describes a Jesus situated within a determined sociocultural-religious con-text. But Jesus is situated in it concretely, and he is situated in a way which is perceived by one of the parties as threatening to its interests--"they wer~ watching him closely" (3:2)--and which provokes a conflict so sharp that "they plotted together to see how to eliminate him" (3:6). What is indicative is the place where Jesus is situated and from which he faces the situation: solidarity with the actual man, the man in his poverty, the man oppressed by his paralyzed hand and forsaken by the institution. He has him step into the middle of the synagogue. And he obliges the others, the representatives of the grand institution, to face up to their own presuppositions: Is it licit or not? What is more important, the institution or the person, maintaining the institution or free-ing a man from what concretely oppresses him? What is the cri-terion to act on? "But they were silent" (3:4). Jesus' reaction is, "Then looking at them with anger . . ." (3:5). Countless times the Gospels speak of Jesus' look--always a loving and compas-sionate look. Now he looks "with anger." At whom? At that group of wise, prudent men who are respectful of the institution. Why? Because they refuse to commit themselves to the man, they refuse to make a decision in regard to a poor person, they refuse to take a stand in a situation that questions their rigid institutional schemes. Jesus says, "Hold out your hand" (3:5). Jesus chooses the poor person, the man in a situation of concrete need. The institution is either at the service of human beings orit does not reflect the true God. The Gospels contain many even more radical expressions about the poor as the fundamental criterion for discerning whether we are following the path to God's kingdom. Perhaps the most awesome and disquieting is the words contained in Matthew 25:31-46: "Come, blessed ones of my Father, inherit the kingdom . . . for I was hungry and you gave me to eat. depart from me, accursed ones., for I was naked and you did no~' clothe me . " There is not much room here for sociological or 490 Review for Religious theological lucubrations about who are the poor that are spoken of and what is the determinant criterion for measuring God's nearness. Crucified Church As we can see in the example of Jesus, taking the side of the poor supposes having the courage to get involved in conflict. The history of the Latin American church since Medellfn confirms what has been true all through its existence: insofar as it empties itself of power and prestige so as to enter the world of the poor and be identified with them and their cause, it has also had to suffer their lot--crucifixion and death--and it has come to under-stand why it cannot follow Jesus without denying itself and car-rying the cross. It is because the immense majority of the poor are not poor simply because of nature, but because of other persons. In reality, the poor are the impoverished. Hence, their mere pres-ence is an accusation, a questioning; it creates conflict. The poor are a cause of division, a division whose theological meaning is apocalyptically described in the eschatological discourse I have mentioned: "He will separate one from the other, as the shep-herd separates the sheep from the goats" (Mt 25:32). Jesus him-self, poor and in solidarity with the poor, appears as "a sign of contradiction" (Lk 2:34); and when he takes his place actually at the side of the poor, he provokes conflict and repression, and he suffers death. For this reason the church of the poor is the crucified church, the church of the martyrs. It is so insofar as it is a church of the poor. As long as it preaches universal but abstract love, as long as it is a church from above, the world's powerful praise and respect it; they consider it their church. But when it begins to translate love into historical terms, when it begins to take the side of the poor and it plans and organizes its pastoral work with them in mind, then it begins also to be the church that is slandered and persecuted. If we look at this fact in the light of the Beatitudes (see Lk 6:22-23, 26) there is no doubt which one is the church of Jesus. Church in which the Poor are Evangelized The poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of .~ly-Aug'ust 1992 491 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor salvation. That does not mean they are the exclusive consignees. Partiality is not the same as exclusiveness. Jesus comes to bring sal-vation for all. But he comes to bring it from the poor, and fi'om them he confronts the changes that must come about in the world; he makes specific what it means to be converted, what it means to become brothers and sisters. This is not a matter of mystifying the poor, as if they were the good and the rich were the bad. It is that objectively God's identi-fication with the poor, the defense of their cause, is precisely where it is revealed what God is, a God who is love that saves, love that creates a brotherhood and sisterhood of sons and daughters, love that makes all things new. And so it is from there that salva-tion is offered to all. The Beatitudes proclaim, not the goodness of human beings, but the goodness of the God who identifies with the little ones of the earth. The Acts of the Apostles describes for us a church that under, stood this very well and where for that reason the poor find their place in such a way that they cease to be poor: Among them no one was needy, because all those who pos-sessed land or houses sold them and brought the price of the sale., and distribution was made to all according to their needs (Ac 4:34-35). It is the very gesture of him who "being rich became poor for you in order to enrich you with his poverty (2 Co 8:9). Church in which the Poor Evangelize Us This is another of the traits that characterize the church of the poor. St. John declares: Everyone who loves . . . knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love (1 Jn 4:7-8). But those who from their objective condition teach the church what true love of God, Christian love, consists in are the poor: If someone has material possessions and sees a brother in need and yet closes his heart to him, how can love of God dwell in him? My children, let us love not just with words, with our lips, but with actions and in truth (1 Jn 3:17-18). The poor reveal to us what the demands are of that love which, because it is Christian, seeks efficacy and a real change in the conditions of suffering and injustice of the poor. They makd us discover who God is: the one who takes the part of the orphan, 492 Review for Religious the widow, the stranger, the one who becomes their goeL They make us understand the Jesus who has compassion, who casts out demons, who looks with anger. They reveal to us the demons that must be cast out today, what the sin is that today stirs up the Lord's anger, what it is that today negates brotherhood, that kills our brother or sister. It is from the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. In short, they keep on making us discover the Gospel in a new dimension. On the other hand, if the poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of the kingdom, that means they must also be privileged in understanding and interpreting what that good news signi-fies. The Gospel is understood through the lens of the poor and from their per-spective. Therefore, it is in them before all else that the Spirit becomes present, From the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. and from there the Spirit speaks today to the church. There is a hierarchical magisterium in the church, but it only makes sense if it is rooted in the reality of those poor who make up the church's rank and file. The good shepherd's sheep follow him because "they know his voice" and "he knows his own sheep" (Jn 10:4, 14). The hierarchy of the church of the poor is a hierarchy of service, not of domination. It is a hierarchy that knows its sheep in dia-logue and solidarity, that is ai~tuned to their concrete needs, their sufferings, their longings. Precisely for this reason, because it can hear and understand the people's silent cry, it is able to speak with a language that is recognizable, and in the hierarchy's voice the poor find their life, their cause, their hope, their own voice. The theological reflection of the church of the poor is done from below also, tuning in to 'the awareness and the feelings of the poor. Those poor have had their voice taken away--within the church as well--for so long that they have forgotten how to speak and must learn, to express themselves; but they must increasingly acquire a voice within the church. And that voice must be heard, because in it is revealed the Spirit of Jesus that guides the church. Thus will arise a church where things are considered, struc-at~ dy-./lugust 1992 493 Moreno ¯ Church of tbe Poor tured, and carried out from the perspective of the poor. It is they who say how the institution should function, what new ministries are required for a better service, what ministries and functions they need so that they themselves may be active participants within the church's life. Church on Its Way We must not forget that this church of the poor is also a pil-grim church, a church that must keep forming itself through hard-ship and conflict. I am not referring now to conflict with the powers of the world; I am talking about the world and the sin that are still found within the church itself, about conflict that arises from the church's limitations and from different models of church. The church's unity--that unity for which Jesus died--is eschatological unity, a unity that will come about beyond the church itself as fundamental gift of the kingdom that will burst forth into fullness. The church has a mission to go on building that unity--which is universal brotherhood and sisterhood--by attacking at the root what keeps that unity from being realized. That is not achieved by denying the reality of the conflict, but by facing up to the lack of love and Folidarity that produces it. The mere existence of the poor exposes that lack of love and sol-idarity- which is why there will be protest, conflict, and division as long as there are poor--and it reminds us that salvation, the fullness of God's reign, has not yet arrived. The Religious Life in the Church of the Poor What place do we religious have within this church of the poor that I have just described? The religious life arises as protest against the values and struc-tures of the world. It arises as a search for what is radical in the Gospel, for the "one thing necessary" (Lk 10:42), which tends to be obscured in a church tempted to become worldly, to stop being the distinct event that it ought to be within the world. With its special form of Christian existence, religious life ought to be prophecy that points continually towards the church's true mean-ing and calls on it, not to settle down, but to seek ever to go for-ward. That is the eschatological meaning of the vows, as they show us a beyond that urgesus to transform the present. 494 Review for Religious But what is the natural place for religious life to flourish? Where is the root that makes our life radically evangelical? If what I have said about the church of the poor is true, then there is no doubt that the poor are the place par excellence where the reli-gious life should be located in order to carry out its charism of prophecy. In point of fact, the Spirit is stirring up a notable move-ment among religious towards a real and concrete insertion among the poor. From there the Spirit provides light for a reinterpreta-tion of religious life itself. The religious vows are seen before all else as ,consecration to the Christ who is poor and identified with the poor, as vows that consecrate by freeing us from fixity and exclusiveness so as to form Christians who are available for all and approachable by all, but with an availability and approacha-bility whose universalness is shown precisely in being dedicated by preference to the poor and effectively committed to their cause. It means being detached in order to go where the institution can scarcely reach because of the difficulty and poverty of the condi-tions. Jon Sobrino expresses it very well as a going to the desert, the periphery, the frontier: to the desert, where no one is, where no one wants to go; to the periphery, where everything is seen through the lens of the powerless (not to the center, where the powerful are, where things are seen from above); to the frontier, where risks are greater and the task is harder, where there are no trodden paths because no one has trod them and the walkways are made by walking. What better way to fulfill religious life's prophetic function within the church than to help it read the signs of the times from that insertion into the world and struggle of the poor? What bet-ter way than to point out the new paths that the Spirit of Jesus is having us discover through the poor, in whom that Spirit becomes so specially present? The challenge offered us is, how to bring this about? To what conversion does the Lord call us as religious within the church so that we may help it become increasingly a church of the poor? Notes 1 The Documents of Vatican H (New York: The America Press, 1966), pp. 23-24. 2 The 1968 Latin American bishops' assembly at Medell~n, Colombia. July-August 1992 495 ANNMARIE SANDERS Women Missioners amidst Violence efforts of two insurgency groups, drug lords, and a military that violates more human rights than the groups it seeks to suppress. Through the country more than sixty percent of the people are living in emergency zones, and a great deal of these areas have been placed under military control. Many of the towns have lost their leaders, doctors, teachers, and development workers and even their police. Often only Catholic church workers remain, the great majority of whom are women religious. The situation has called us who serve here to a new way of liv-ing and ministering among the people and to a new spirituality. Following Christ and living Christian values can no longer be done as in the past. The reality in which our spirituality is lived out is now radically different. In speaking with various foreign women missionaries through-out Peru, I see that we struggle with many of the same new chal-lenges, are asking ourselves the same questions, and are recognizing similar patterns in our lives of prayer and relation with God. Our situation is unique because of the state of the country in which we work. The complexity of problems plaguing Annmarie Sanders IHM, a member of her congregation's vocation and formation team, has been in Peru since March 1989, She also works as associate editor of Latinamerica Press/Noticias Aliadas. Her address is Apartado 18-0101 ; Lima, Peru. 496 Review for Religious Peru does not follow any pattern in the history of other nations, and thus we have no precedent to follow. To understand our questions, fears, and challenges, one must better understand the context of the violence we face. Peru's two terrorist groups, the Maoist Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) and the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Move-ment, hold as their primary goals the takeover of the country. So far their efforts since 1980 ¯ have resulted in 23,000 deaths, 5,000 disap-pearances and US$18 billion in economic damage. Sendero has declared its willingness to wade through a "river of blood" to expunge foreign influence in Peru and establish a peas-ant society. It rejects competition from the church, the state, and the private sector. The methods of the two groups include bombings, intimidations, blackmail, torture, and ruth-less murder. The terrorist groups are known to be linked with narco-traffic rings, and in return for the security which the terrorists provide coca traffickers, they receive an esti-mated $40 million a year. Although the current government of Although the terrorist problem has been present in the country for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. President Albert Fujimori attempts to control the drug trafficking and terrorist situations, it also battles cholera, endemic corruption, frequent drought, eighty-percent underemployment, and a deep economic depression leaving 13 million of Peru's 22 million inhabitants in extreme poverty, a figure which has doubled in three years. The government must also contend with the Peruvian military and police forces, which, according to the Washington Office on Latin America, are among the worst violators of human rights in the hemisphere. The U.S. State Department's 1990 human-rights report notes "widespread credible reports of summary executions, arbitrary arrests, and torture and rape by the military, as well as less frequent reports of such abuses by the police." The United Nations Commission on Human Rights noted that in 1991, for the fourth consecutive year, Peru had the highest number of disap-pearances of all the countries in the world. Although the terrorist problem has been present in the coun-try for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. Between the church and the terrorists there had existed .~dy-August 1992 497 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence an "understanding." Generally, when terrorists entered to take over a village, if church workers complied with terrorist expecta-tions they were left unharmed. The church work often had to be significantly curtailed,.'but the religious could remain as a presence to the people. The recent direct destruction of church projects and prop-erty; the deaths of Irene McCormack, an Australian Sister of St. Joseph, in Junin in May 1991 and of Zbigniew Strzalkowski and Michael Tomaszek, Polish Franciscan priests, and Alessandro Dordi Negroni, an Italian priest, in Chimbote in August 1991; and the attempted assassination in July 1991 in Chimbote of Miguel Company, a priest from Spain, changed the scene signif-icantly. More religious encountered terrorist demands that their works--especially food aid and development projects--be stopped, and many received direct threats on their lives. Rather suddenly priests and religious became direct terrorist targets. Sendero Luminoso proclaimed that the church was the enemy of the peo-ple and an obstacle to revolutionary triumph. As the Rev. Robert Gloisten, a U.S. missioner and a staff member of the Peruvian Episcopal Conference for Social Action, stated, "We have become a church under fire with no idea of what will happen day to day." For several years, denial of the serious-ness of the situation was possible. Life was carried on with a vague knowledge that terrorists were active in a few isolated areas; as long as their activity did not directly touch us, we could continue peacefully. Those days are past. ~ The level of awareness and acceptance of the reality of this sit-uation naturally differs for each person. Much depends on one's personal experiences. For example, Pittsburgh Sister of Mercy Rita Harasiuk, who works in the diocese of Chimbote, was jolted by the death of her three colleagues into a new view of the situation: Although I began seeing things differently with the attempted assassination of Miguel Company, it was really the deaths of the two Franciscans that affected me the most. The two, along with two mayors from nearby towns who were also killed, were laid out together in coffins--all open-- and one worse than the other. For some of us, it was the first time we had seen what a human body looked like after having been shot in the head with weapons designed to destroy and mutilate . When Sandro [Alessandro Dordi] was killed two weeks later, we could see that more killing might go on. That's when we really began to strug-gle with what our response to this situation should be. 498 Review for Religious For California native Teresa Avalos of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, an incident directly involving her community played a significant role in making the situation more real for her and her sisters. In July 1991 a group of Sendero Luminoso ter-rorists entered Moho, where five of her community members lived and worked. They dynamited several buildings, executed six people, and ordered the townspeople to break into and ransack the convent. "This brought the fear of violence that is directed toward us much more into the open," Avalos said. Others of us have grown in our acceptance of the seriousness of the situation from our hearing such accounts by our colleagues. We stand in solidarity with them, aware that the problem is no longer isolated. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. Fear, nat-urally, is among the most common emotions, and, unfortunately, sometimes very difficult to accept and share with others. "We are all at different stages of being able to accept the real-ity, and some are still in a stage of denial," said California native Liane Delsuc of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. "This leaves me often feeling alone and sometimes I don't want to share my fears because others don't feel them. I start to think--is it only me that feels this way? Does that mean I should leave? That I am not able to handle it? But I do not feel that is the case. So I look for people with whom I can more freely share because in sharing it I feel stronger and as if I can continue living this." The sharing has helped us understand the wide range of emo-tions we feel. "Reflecting with others enables me to sift through real fears and imaginary ones," said Pauline Maheux, an Edmonton, Canada, native of the Ursuline Sisters of the Chatham Union; "in sharing we help one another admit to our fears and face them." The emotions one feels get mixed up when one watches the sense-less killing and destruction of years of work. Feelings include shock and anger. Often what is hardest for us to accept is the distrust we now feel towards others since we know that we must be aware of terrorist infiltration into our parishes and workplaces. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. July-August 1992 499 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence Harasiuk received a shocking revelation of this after the funeral for the slain Franciscans. At the offertory two gifts were quietly brought in procession to the altar: the rope used to tie the hands of those killed and the blood-covered cardboard left on their bodies with messages from the assassins. "We later dis-covered that among the young people bringing the gifts to the altar were persons who belonged to Sendero." Our situation naturally causes us to reflect on death--that which we see around us as well as our own. "I think much more about the possibility of my own death," said French native Anna Ingett of the Sisters of Christian Education; "not that I think death will come in the next few days,,but I am more conscious of its nearness." Given this stark reality, we are constantly asking ourselves on personal, communal, local, diocesan, and national levels: How do we deal with this personally and how are we to respond as church workers? One of the greatest challenges we face is receiving accu-rate information about what is happening in the country. The media in Peru are severely restricted and often rely on third-party sources; great doubts remain. Although organizations such as the Religious Conference of Peru work hard to gather facts, the dis-semination of information is very difficult, given the lack many religious have of telephones and reliable mail service. Many reli-gious, however, felt aided by the Religious Conference's meet-ings and workshops on violence and also by programs dealing with situations and problems in the various dioceses. What seems most useful to us are open, honest dialogues with our community members and other religious working in our areas. Many of us have listened to the facts, tried to process our feelings, and then asked ourselves some hard questions: How much more of this can I take? Will I leave if one more religious or priest is killed? Can I live with this tension? Can I remain a sign of hope in what looks like an apparently hopeless situation? Once some sense of peace was reached about our presence here, we began reexamining why we are staying. Many of us, espe-cially those working the emergency zones, began looking at our work with very different eyes. "After the deaths here, most of us slowed down and started thinking, evaluating, praying, and talk-ing together about why we are here and what we should be doing," said Harasiuk, who has been working for ten years as a pastoral team member in Chimbote. She recalls a meeting of priests and 500 Revlew for Religious sisters where someone asked, "Do you think you should continue working as you have been?" Not one person said yes. Many pastoral workers have reduced their work to simple presence in their parishes. They no longer lead groups, distribute food and aid, or attempt to organize the people. They maintain a low profile and lead quiet lives of simple accompaniment. For Delsuc, who is principal in a Lima barrio of a Fe and Alegrfa School, one of forty-three institutes set up by the Jesuits to educate young people in Lima's shantytowns and in the provinces, the questions about work are many: "I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alterna-tives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them? I wonder if it would'be better not to be involved in a certain work and just live alongside the people? I wonder if our commit-ment to the people is valuable even if it brings death?" Many of our ques-tions must be left unanswered. But we recognize that simply by asking them we have allowed our lives to be changed. For many of us, before we could accept the change the situ-ation calls us to, we had to let go of the past. Harasiuk says that this was a common experience for the religious in Chimbote after the deaths. "Our grieving process was not just for persons, but for a whole way of life that is passing. This situation has taken away from us a freedo~n to move day and night without fear, to speak openly without worrying about what we say or to who~n we are talking." For Harasiuk this experience also helped her to evaluate her life and her activity and to decide what really matters. "So many of the things I had been involved in suddenly did not seem so important." Maheux, who has served as a pastoral worker for eight years in Chiclayo, had a similar experience. "The situation has enabled me to sift through what is of essence and what is truly insignifi-cant. Relationships have taken on profound meaning . . . to be nourished and cherished." The change in relationships extends for most of us also to I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alternatives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them ? j~t~-Aug'u~ 1992 501 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence our relation with God. Many have noted that prayer is more dif-ficult, little ecstasy is experienced, much more anger is expressed, fewer words are used, and often God becomes the scapegoat for all of Peru's problems. Christ, for many of us, reveals himself in new ways in Scripture. "I experience Christ more in his passion, where he ends up in the midst of violence, mistreatment, and ridicule but stands strong to his values and commitments," said Delsuc. Many seek a sense of consolation in their relation with God--an assurance that they are loved and that God is still in control. Many, feeling lost in the confusion of these times, turn to God as a source of wisdom. For Lia Finnerty, a Canadian Holy Cross sister working in Juli, prayer is now more integrally connected with what is hap-pening in the news and in her village. "My prayer is the time when I can try to integrate our reality with God's word and see how our community is touched by all that." That need to connect our prayer with the wider community and to pray with others is co,ninon among us. Many note that the desire for communal peti-tionary prayer is much stronger and that it is a helpful experi-ence to bring to God each day all that we see and experience each day. Ingett, who serves on a pastoral team in Sicuani, notes that her community's time of petitionary prayer is also a time for asking pardon for all that these women experience in their daily inter-action with the people. Living in the midst of so much violence and structural injustice has clearly revealed to many of us the anger and violence present within ourselves. "Sometimes it's so hard to hear that the police have attacked innocent victims or tortured young people," admitted Finnerty. "My first reaction is often a violent one, even though I want to be nonviolent." We all seem to struggle with the anger we feel and our desire to be compassionate, and we ask ourselves many questions about how we can be more nonviolent people. We are trying different approaches. Massachusetts native Carmen Foley, a Halifax Sister of Charity serving as a spiritual director in Lima, is looking at her interactions with others and her judgments and is trying to be more merciful in her attitudes. Avalos, a pastoral worker in a Lima barrio and formhr.vice-provincial of her congregation, is look-ing at violence in her speech and her reactions. Finnerty, a pastoral worker among the Aymara people, is returning to the Aymaran value of solidarity and community as a block to violence. Delsuc 502 Review for Religious is practicing communication techniques to become more skilled in conflict resolution. Probably most important for all of us, however, is an openness to learn from the Peruvian people, who seem to know better than any of us just what hope in the midst of crisis is all about. As Maheux concluded, "My greatest source of hope for the future is the women, men, and children with whom I live. Their faith-fulness to the daily struggle to just live--to being able to eat, to the one-day-at-a-time facing of tremendous obstacles--teaches me that justice, peace, and life will endure and win out." Coming Out one shall know as dawn disentangles morning from night if one's desert spell was purgation or vacation was awakening or escape when one emerges anointed in power or scorched and spent Andrea Wild OSF July-August 1992 503 ROY BOURGEOIS School of Terror write from the Federal prison in Tallahassee, Florida, where am serving a sixteen-month sentence for an act of civil dis-obedience to protest the training of Salvadoran soldiers on United States soil. As I look back, I feel my being here is no accident, but rather the result of God's grace at work in my life. Growing up in rural Louisiana, I was a Sunday Christian and gave little thought to issues of peace and justice. I studied geology in college with the hope of getting rich in the oil fields of South America. After college I became a naval officer and volunteered for duty in Vietnam, feeling it was. my patriotic duty to fight communism. There I met a missionary who, amid the war, gave me a vision of Jesus as a healer and peacemaker. I left Vietnam wanting to be a missionary and entered Maryknoll, whose work is in twenty-eight countries overseas and in the United States. I was ordained in 1972 and went to serve the poor of Bolivia. A slum on the outskirts of La Paz became my home for six years. In Bolivia, as in Vietnam, the poor became my teachers and challenged me to grow in my faith. I then returned to do educational work in the United States. My involvement with E1 Salvador began in 1980, after Archbishop Oscar Romero was gunned down at the altar and after four church women from the United States were raped and killed by Salvadoran soldiers. Two of the women, Maryknoll sisters Maura Clarke and Ita Ford, were friends of mine. Their death forced me to confront what was happening in this small Central American country. Roy Bourgeois MM writes that prison can be a good place to read Scripture, pray, and do ministry. His address is Register No. 01579-017; PMB 1000; Tallahassee, Florida 32301. 504 Review for Religious After several trips to E1 Salvador, it became clear that the problem was not "communism" or "subversion" but hunger. As is the case almost everywhere in Latin America, the wealth, power, and land of E1 Salvador are in the hands of an elite few. While these live in huge mansions where they are waited on by servants and enjoy frequent vacations and shopping sprees in the United States and Europe, most Salvadorans live in dehumanizing pover.ty and die before their time. The poor, once told that their suffering was the will of God, now know better as they gather in small groups to read and reflect on the word of God. They now real-ize that their poverty and suffering are the result of exploitation, greed, and irresponsible stew-ardship of God's creation. In May 1983, five hundred Salvadoran sol-diers arrived at Fort Benning, Georgia, to undergo U.S. Army training. At the time, I was speaking at churches and colleges in New Orleans about the injustice of U.S. military aid to E1 Salvador. I felt it was no time for business as usual, so I went to Columbus, Georgia, the home of Fort Benning, and began meeting with local residents. After two months of meet-ings, talks, and prayer vigils, three of us decided to enter Fort Benning at night, dressed as U.S. Army officers. Armed with a.high-powered cassette player, we climbed a tall pine tree near the barracks that housed the Salvadoran soldiers. At lights out, we tuned the cassette player to its highest volume and played Archbishop Romero's last homily, given in the cathedral the day before he was assassinated; in it he called on the military to stop the killing and lay down their arms. We were arrested, tried for criminal trespass ~and impersonating military officers, and sen-tenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. After serving my term I sought a few months of silence and solitude at. a Trappist monastery, then returned to the pulpit and classroom. On 16 November 1989 six Jesuit priests, their coworker, and her fifteen-year-old daughter were brutally murdered in E1 Salvador. According to a U.S. Congressional task force sent to El Salvador to investigate the massacre, five of the nine soldiers arrested for the slayings had been trained at Fort Benning. Today, hundreds of Salvadoran and other Latin American soldiers are being trained at Fort Benning's School of the Americas. The The problem was not "communism" or "subversion" bu t hunger. .y~dy-August 1992 505 Bourgeois ¯ Scbool of Terror School of the Americas (SOA) was located in Panama before mov-ing to Benning in 1984. Since 1946 this training ground for Latin American soldiers has quietly readied some 45,000 officers and enlisted men for right-wing Latin American governments. Manuel Noriega is a distinguished alumnus, as is General Hugo Banzer of Bolivia. In 1984, when the SOA was forced out of Panama, then Panamanian president Jorge Illueja described the school as "the biggest base of destabilization in Latin America." The foundation of the course work at the School of the Americas is low-intensity conflict (LIC), which, by military ana-lyst Michael Klare's definition, is "that amount of murder, muti-lation, torture, rape, and savagery that is sustainable without triggering widespread public disapproval at home." Students of LIC learn that the enemy is not just an opposing armed force; rather, the enemy can include anyone, armed or unarmed, who threatens the stability of the existing order. Hence, priests, teach-ers, health-care workers, union leaders, cooperative members, and human-rights advocates are among the victims of the School of the Americas. On 3 September 1990, ten of us--Vietnam veterans, Salva-dorans, a teacher, and members of the clergy--began a water-only fast at the entrance of Fort Benning to protest the training of' Salvadoran soldiers. When our fast ended after thirty-five days, our bodies were weak but our spirits remained strong. Miguel Cruz, a Salvadoran in our group who had been forced to leave his country because of a death threat, said, "We have the option to end our fast. However, the poor in my country do not. For them hunger is an everyday occurrence." On November 16, when we had recovered from the fast, three of us--Charles Liteky, a former army chaplain who had received the Medal of Honor for heroism in Vietnam; his brother Patrick, who had trained at Fort Benning's Infantry School, and I-- returned to Fort Benning to observe the first anniversary of the killing of the six Jesuits and the two women. After a prayer service, we entered the post, placed a white cross with photos of the eight martyrs at the entrance to the School of the Americas, and poured blood in one of the school's main halls. We wanted to impress on our country that we cannot wash our hands of the blood of inno-cent people killed in E1 Salvador by soldiers trained in the United States. We were arrested and tried. A jury found us guilty of dam- '506 Review for Religious aging government property. The Liteky brothers received six-month sentences, and I received sixteen months because of my previous conviction at Fort Benning in 1983. "Was it worth it?" I am often asked by friends and critics alike. Prison is hard and very lonely at times, even with the support of family and friends, who also suffer. My dad cried when I called home to tell him of my sentenc-ing. Yet I feel I did what my faith and the poor called me to do in the face of such violence, death, and suffering. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. It is indeed tragic what our silence did to the people of E1 Salvador over the past twelve years as our po!iticians fun-neled billions of dollars (hard-earned tax money) to a military regime that killed thousands of innocent people. ~ The recent peace accords in E1 Salvador now bring new hope, and it is a time for rebuilding after all the death and destruction. It is also a time for the hundreds of Salvadoran soldiers who continue their training at Fort Benning to go home--along with the troops from Guatemala, Honduras, Venezuela, Peru, Chile, Colombia, Bolivia, and other Latin American countries. I am convinced that we can relieve some of the suffering of the poor in Latin America by closing down the School of the Americas. It is a school of terror and should be shut down. While I am in prison, friends in Georgi~ are carrying on the peace-and-justice work. To learn more about our efforts, write to School of the Americas Watch; P.O. Box 3330; Columbus, Georgia 31903. Archbishop Romero said, "We who have a voice must speak for the voiceless." I pray and hope that we will speak clearly and boldly. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. j~dy-August 1992 507 M. GERARD NWAGWU Women Religious and the African Synod inculturating Following the initial enthusiasm with which our people welcomed Pope John Paul II's announcement of a special assembly for Africa of the Synod of Bishops,l an accom-modating attitude of tolerance for whatever might result from the event seems to have settled in. In such a frame of mind, any document coming from the synod will proba-bly be treated like any other Vatican document---it will be gratefully accepted and respectfully mentioned, but lit-tle else will follow. If, however, the document were to grow out of our experiences and be developed from our contributions, then its contents would have a better chance of being well received and more fully observed. The introductory chapter to the Lineamenta2 speaks of the period of preparation and celebration of the synod as the "tempus acceptabile," the favorable hour, the hour of Africa. This is the hour we have all waited for. It offers us a unique opportunity to bring about some of the changes and modifications religious life in Africa needs. It is a time for religious women in Africa to state our vision of commitment and involvement. This favorable hour con-tinues until the synod is actually celebrated and concluded, As part of this process it is important for us to raise issues and speak out about the problems that women religious encounter as they try to contribute to the work of evan-gelization in Africa. Indeed, for Africans this synod truly M. Gerard Nwagwu does much of her teaching at the Catholic Institute of West Africa; P.O. Box 499; Port Harcourt, Nigeria. 508 Review for Religious promises to be a "third Vatican Council" in what it could accom-plish for us. Consequently the initial period of intense preparation needs to be followed by a continued interest in the synod that fosters a receptive disposition of willingness to adopt its directives. The next generation of religious is likely to question how we made use of this opportunity, criticizing chances wasted and applauding those utilized. The older generation in their turn will be less critical insofar as they have never experienced such an event during their active days and therefore cannot be blamed for not effecting changes. Our contemporaries themselves could point accusing fingers at us if, for all our ideals and foresight, we achie~ced nothing when the circumstances were most opportune. Accepting facts as they are can be a mark of virtue on occa-sion. However, if we were to do that in the present situation, it would indicate complacency and inertia exactly when the action of working toward objectives that will benefit our people is demanded of us. Accepting the status quo just when the church calls us to make a move could indicate a cowardice and portray a fear of "launching out into the deep waters and laying out the nets for a catch," as Christ challenged the Apostles to do at a point when all hope seemed lost.3 We need an openness among ourselves to help us discover our weaknesses, our duties, and our obligations of evangelization--duties that the Code of Canon Law itself demands of religious in canons 211 and 758. Aware of these challenges, we can begin searching for an effective strategy. The Lineamenta presents a good number and variety of themes for our consideration. In any of these themes, the African reli-gious woman-has a role to play, not simply because she is an African or works in Africa, but because her religious life is directly intertwined with the life of the church. Vatican II witnessed to the fact that at no time in history has the church lacked some form of religious life.4 Religious life, in other words, is a con-stant and inseparable feature of the church. This universally his-toric fact is no different on African soil. However, it would take us too far afield to dwell on all of'the proposed themes as they relate to women religious in general. Rather let us consider those that focus strictly on the life of women religious in Africa, their apostolates, and their relationship with the world around them. Presently, most of the countries in Africa have celebrated the centenary of the arrival of the early Catholic missionaries. The few July-August 1992 509 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod who have not will do so in the near future. Mmost everywhere the native indigenous clergy have assumed the direction of the particular churches, on both the diocesan and parish levels. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for all congregations of religious women in Africa.5 These factors and others highlight the growth of the church in Africa. Specifically, religious institutes are not left behind in the development. The momentous rise in the number of vocations to the religious life, especially in women's congregations, attests to this growth. Indeed the problem for many religious commu-nities is not so much trying to attract candidates but finding ways of adequately training and forming them in the spiritual and apos-tolic life. It is no wonder that foreign religious institutes endeavor to recruit girls from Africa to fill up their depleted ranks. Such recruiting, however, has been limited and conditioned by the authorities since it has often left a trail of disillusioned women who believed they were sent abroad for further studies, only to find that they were meant to supply domestic services. Though the road remains open for taking candidates abroad, yet some condi-tions must be fulfilled.6 The obvious growth of the church in Africa is one of the "signs of the times" that determine the form evangelization should assume in our midst. The evangelization that starts first with inte-rior conversion of hearts, matures to a personal witness of life, and finally develops into external commitments and service is the type that best suits the vocation of religious women. Before evan-gelizing others we must evangelize ourselves, for only after we have been converted can we support those around us.7 We shall be witnesses, yes, but only after an interior transformation of heart. Through such an authentic witness of the life of the evan-gelical counsels, we can make our own contribution to the new stage of evangelization required in Africa. With regard to reli-gious life, this first stage of evangelization involVes modeling to our people the values of total dedication and consecration to God with a hope of evoking a corresponding response from young women and men to embrace religious life. The second stage of renewed evangelization which suits our time is that of deepen-ing the faith of those who already believe and are baptized, We are already experiencing an influx of vocations, but how deep is their faith, how reliable is their commitment? Religious women, particularly, must ask probing questions, 510 Review for Religious admit the facts, and make worthwhile proposals. The point at issue is whether we realize that the effective contribution of women religious in the evangelization of Africa depends first on the genuine and generous commitments of our communities and second on the spiritual and apostolic formation we give our younger members. The vitality of religious life in Africa depends on these elements and on its being a true witness of the presence and love of God among our people. Such an objective compels us to examine some of the negative currents that undermine our abil-ity to evangelize our people in the manner referred to above. Primary among the negative currents is the wind of secularism that has blown through the world from the 1980s to the present day and has begun to register its presence in Africa. Some see it as materialism, others as atheistic humanism. Secularism, as Pope Paul VI has pointed out, views the world as entirely self-explanatory without any reference to God, who thus becomes unnecessary and is, as it were, an embarrassment. Secularism of this kind seeks to assert the power of humankind and leads to a situation in which God is ignored and denied.8 An allied expression is secularization. Where secularism is a theory and an ideology leading to denial of God, secularization is, instead, the fact and reality of experiencing life with a secular-ized mentality and attitude--that is, evaluating life from a worldly point of view. This, then, is the new form of atheism by which God is perceived to be less present, less necessary, less capable of providing a valid explanation of personal or social life experi-ences. In its undiluted form, secularization should not find a stronghold in Africa, given the characteristic spiritual vision of life within an African society wherein the divine permeates all aspects of life. However, what has invaded this sense of the sacred is the aftermath of secularization, revealed in such characteristics as superficiality, the desire for power and domination over others, autonomy and individualism, and a pleasure-loving orientation. Within our religious circles, when we lack an original experience of God and consequently fail to lead others to a similar experience, the evangelical counsels are confused or glossed over in various attempts to describe, them. We shall be witnesses only after an interior transformation of heart. j-~uly-August 1992 511 Nwag~u ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Poverty is explained away in the tendency to acquire and accu-mulate in the name of the congregation; chastity in the necessity of having the comfort, convenience, and satisfaction of personal fulfillment; obedience in the assertion of autonomy and individ-uality as marks of our uniqueness and originality. In the maze of such ambiguity, the question for religious women to answer is whether at the present stage of their religious experience they can lay claim to preserving in full the religious sense and charac-ter of their consecration. Where secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. Secularism holds out to us the values of the world and urges us to conform; the Gospel offers us the mind and values of Christ. If we examine our situation and find out that our choices are secular in character, it is important for us to admit it, and so be able to discover what strategy to adopt con-cerning it. The type of choices we make and the attitudes we have clearly show whether we are evangelized at heart or not. On a secondary level the way we treat each other and the interpersonal regard we nurture in our communities would truly show if the Gospel values were operating among us. For when we continue to make discriminatory preferences between persons or congregations, then our witnessing cannot be anything but counterproductive to the task of evangelization. When we are carrying out a common objective, what should matter is the appre-ciation of a sister as a religious and the virtues she possesses for her to be entrusted with an undertaking which she will accomplish in the name of all, not whether she is a member of one congre-gation rather than another, or whether she has occupied a position of importance in her institute, or whether she has important con-nections, and so forth. Evangelizing witness on the community level is likely to be rendered nugatory as ~vell if, instead of the communion and unity which religious life signifies, we have the division and disunity of uncoordinated activity. The difficulties occasioned by lack of cooperation and coordination are most often seen between dif-ferent congregations rather than between members of the same institute. How often have we witnessed the complaints and dis-enchantment of institutes whose services are unceremoniously terminated in a place in favor of another institute--especially when the institute that takes up the apostolate in question may be completely ignorant of how the first institute left the scene! Such 512 Review for Religious a practice is exploitive and appears to be based on the availability of women religious. Apart from the circumstance related above in which two con-gregations of religious women are made to be victims at the same time, division of opinion among institutes is certainly a question that needs to be considered if the challenges of our times are to be adequately addressed. The church regards women religious as experts in communion both because of the communitarian quality of our consecration and because of our natural tendency to bond ourselves closely to oth-ers. Our best field of operation, therefore, is to work for unity and communion within our African church in all its various components. Women have a great capacity for personal adaptation in the face of the varied and often unexpected needs of the real life of societies and churches. We are thus often in a better position to ensure not merely the survival but even the development of evangelization.9 A determination to form deeper and stronger bonds of solidarity and sharing between our various institutes is the best way to confront the changing political, economic, and social conditions of our times. Such operative and meaningful solidarity will happen if various congregations are able to evolve while each institute retains its unique identity and character. As Pope Paul VI told us,'° we are missionaries to ourselves at this stage of the evangelization of Africa. We Africans are cat-echizing and witnessing t6 our own people in our home missions. We are also undertaking the evangelization of other African coun-tries outside our homeland--not overlooking, of course, the invaluable assistance offered by our foreign missionaries. Taking into account the greater number of women .religious, these foreign missions are mostly operated by religious sisters. We must ask ourselves, therefore, whether there exists a corresponding mis-sionary cooperation between the various religious congregations whose members labor on these foreign missions, or whether mis-sionaries carry along with them to the missions the lack of coop-eration and perhaps rivalry which possibly exists at home. We need to remember the call of John Paul II as he spoke about the problems facing evangelization in Africa: secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. July-August 1992 513 Nwagcvu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Let all form one unity. Let everything be done to smooth and multiply the ways of mutual esteem, of fraternity, of collaboration. May anything that might be the cause of suf-ferings or casting aside, for one group or another, be ban-ished! May all be penetrated with sentiments of humility and of mutual service! For Christ! For the witness of the church! For the progress of evangelization!'~ With a unified front, we religious could more easily discover new approaches to problems that arise in the apostolate. These problems include the challenge of Islam and the determination of Muslims to spread the Koran from coast to coast by whatever means available. Carrying arms and matching violence with vio-lence is definitely not what the church expects religious women to accomplish in this regard. Neither is it possible to close our eyes and imagine that the friction and conflict with Muslims will even-tually ease off while we do nothing. We must, however, evaluate our strength and discover unobtrusive ways to reduce the threat of Islam for our people. In the face of such an offensive, the church has in the past usually adopted the practice of intensified prayer and a rigorous asceticism lived with generous hearts. Some apostolic religious institutes were founded to labor in countries of Islamic faith. But there are relatively few, if any, contemplative orders founded exclusively for the propagation of faith among Muslims. Such contemplative orders, which by their i~rayers, works of penance, and sacrifices labor to effect the conversion of souls, are crucial for the growth of Christian faith amidst the increased onslaught of Islamic hostility. It would be a welcome endeavor if the tendency our religious folk have to found new religious institutes is allowed to mature into communities that will pitch their tents among the Muslims of our country despite foreseeable opposition and even death. If such an inspiration of the Spirit were to happen, it would cer-tainly respond to the needs of the times. The challenge of Islam requires a radical religious decision. It calls for active institutes to reawaken their consciousness of the value and practice of the con-templative dimension of religious life. The Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes exhorts: The contemplative dimension is the real secret of renewal for every religious life. Being a reality of grace, it preserves in the religious the commitment to bear witness before the world to the primacy of a personal relationship with God. They can thus avoid the constant danger for apostolic work- 514 Review for Religious ers who often become so much involved in their work for the Lord as to forget the Lord ofalI work,~z Another area of concern is the proliferation of sects and evan-gelical movements. The increase in their adherents means that some other churches--the traditional Christian churches includ-ing the Catholic Church--are losing members. The sects usually direct their proselytizing toward those who are already Christians and offer them what they apparently cannot get from their mother churches. Again Paul VI sounded the alarm when he noted: It is well known that in some places the church in Africa runs the risk of the fidelity of its sons and daughters being subjected to dangers and struggles, and to being tempted by false teaching. Indeed, Christian faith must become some-thing interior like a personal possession of each individ-ual.' 3 In the face of such phenomena, congregations of women reli-gious can be of immense help to the church if they include this ground among their fields of apostolate for the second stage of evangelizing Africa. By identifying the reasons Christians are attracted to these sects and the group of Catholics that are easily influenced by them, they can develop a strategy for deepening the faith of those most affected. Often a shallow faith, which offers no reply to the vital questions of suffering and pain, poverty and misery, doubts and fears, insecurity and emptiness, sickness and death and so forth, is quickly abandoned for what seems a better way out of problems. Such defections occur where people seek a church that'proffers some human warmth and mutual con-cern, an experience the larger churches cannot easily provide.'4 Even if religious themselves do not minister directly to the sects and their adherents, they can train the Christian laity to assume their role of searching out and reevangelizing their brethren. Similarly, it is important to examine the variety of means of social communications available in order to determine the ones best suited for evangelization in Africa today. Every institute is able to evaluate the effect of each of the means on individual members and on the community. For while it is necessary to know what the world around us is saying through the media, we must not allow it to monopolize our attention and dictate our conver-sational exchanges. Growth in religious commitment does not follow from an indiscriminate and sometimes imprudent use of the mass media, or with the exaggerated and extroverted activism the 3~uly-August 1992 515 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod media can generate, or with an atmosphere of dissipation which contradicts the deepest expectations of religious life. The search for intimacy with God needs silence, never involving noise and confusion.~s Presently, however, our discussion on the media is not how much we adopt them in our communities, but how well we use them for evangelization. Since the various means are each an effi-cacious tool for communication, the message of faith can be divulged to millions of our people at the same time with their aid. What prevents us, for example, from publishing a magazine that focuses on African religious life? Other Christian groups take the lead in the use of media while Catholics lag behind. Sacred songs and music on the thousands of audiocassettes that flood the market are ahnost always produced by Protestant evangelical groups. In the past there used to be a festival of the arts for Catholic schools. Now the competitions organized for parish choirs do not seem to generate the same interest. When an institute chooses to engage some of its members in apostolates using more contemporary methodologies, the initial difficulty will be lack of trained personnel. Requisite educational competence is important; however, some religious superiors are reluctant to send sisters for further studies that take time to com-plete and cause financial constraint, especially in the face of past disappointments. All the same, such reservation should give way before the conditions of our times and the needs of the church, which demand specialized training in some fields of study. No field of study can be superfluous if it furthers the mission of the institute. And since evangelization is a common mission for all, then adequate preparation is necessary for its realization. We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. For priests and religious to grow in requisite skills and maturity, it is essen-tial for them to receive the type of formation usually done in cen-ters of study at the university level or in institutes of higher studies. Specialized studies undertaken by religious should be prompted not by a misdirected desire for self-fulfillment with a view to achieving personal ends, but with the sole intention of meeting the apostolic commitments of the religious family itself in the context of the needs of the church.16 In view of the renewed call to evangelize, some significant changes may have to be made in the initial stages of formation. This sensitive area touches the autonomy and identity of insti- 516 Review for Religious tutes. Nevertheless, some general criteria may be adopted on the intercongregational level while the exact details can be left to the creativity of each institute. A rereading of the conciliar guide-lines for renewal shows that there is no question of simple adap-tations of certain external forms such as the habit. There is question, rather, of a deep edu-cation in attitude and in lifestyle that makes it possible to remain true to oneself even in the new forms of being present--a presence as con-secrated persons who seek the full conversion of people and of society to the ways of the Gospel through personal witness and service.~7 The challenges presented to religious women by the forthcoming synod will demand prayer, discipline, and sacrifice. It will not be easy to effect changes because part of the pattern of life and action we have grown used to will have to be renounced. Though renun-ciation may be spiritually rewarding, it is never gratifying to the ego. All the same, the changes need be made. The "signs of the times" are ripe and they offer us incentives to renew and revise our pattern of life and to give a preferential treatment to the duty of evangelization. The traditional ministries carried out in hospi-tals, schools, and social centers remain important, but their rel-evance in meeting the people of our times and engaging them in faith encounters has diminished. Women religious who are solidly founded in faith and suffi-ciently prepared and who can use their feminine qualities of devo-tion, refinement, faithfulness, and patience and their great capacity to adapt to the unexpected demands of real life can transform sit-uations which would intimidate others who lacked the weapons of faith and culture. In conclusion, let us remember the call of John Paul II and our obligation to respond to his invitation: We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. You have lived a first great stage, an irreversible stage. A new stage is open to you. It is no less an exalted one, even if it necessarily involves new trials, and perhaps the temp-tation of discouragement. It is the stage of perseverance, in which it is necessary to pursue the strengthening of the faith, the conversion in depth of souls and ways of life, so that they will correspond better and better to your sublime Christian vocation.18 July-August 1992 517 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Notes i The exact date for the synod has not been set, but observers do not expect it to take place before 1994 or 1993 at the earliest. ~" Lineamenta, General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops, Vatican City, 1990. 3 Luke 5:4. 4 Lumen Gentium §44. s Some congregations of women religious still have nonindigenous administrative personnel. 6 This includes the establishment of a local community in the area, which in turn requires.that a diocesan bishop invite the institute in ques-tion to his diocese. 7 Luke 22:32. 8 Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §55. 9 Sacred Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, Dans le Cadre, The Role of Women in Evangelization, in Vatican Council H Postconciliar Documents, vol. 2, p. 322. l0 Paul VI, Inaugural Session of SECAM, Kampala, 1969. llJohn Paul II, Address to Zairean Bishops 3 May 1980, in Origins 10, no. 1, p. 6. 12 SCRIS, La Plenaria, The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, January 1980, §§ 2, 4, and 30. 13 Paul VI, Address at the 4th Plenary Assembly of SECAM, September 1975. 14 Paul V-I, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §58. is SCRIS, La Plenaria, §14. 16 SCRIS, Mutuae Relationes, §31 and §26. ~7 SCRIS, La Scelte Evangeliche, On Religious and Human Development, January 1981, §32. is John Paul II, Address to Priests and Religious, Zaire, 1980. 518 Review for Religious JENNIFER MARY ALT Rerooting Religi ous Life in South Africa the dialogue has been to develop a religious-life spirituality that would be less foreign and more of a special flowering and inter-pretation of African human and spiritual values. These values encompass all of human life. The spiritual is never seen as apart from the material, and people are seen as depending on other people, and therefore on the Divine, for life and meaning. Outside of their social relationships, individuals are less than nothing. If religious life became better integrated with native African spiri-tual values, it would witness more clearly and bring greater hope to South Africa's strife-torn people. Religious life is not foreign to Africa. In fact, its cradle is to be found in North Africa in the early centuries of Christianity. Organized religious life took its conception from the life and work of the Desert Fathers and was rooted in the form of Christianity found among the rural tribal people of North Africa. This rural tribal Christian expression was eventually declared heretical and has since been known as the Donatist heresy.- St. Augustine, the well-known urban African, a man cut off from his Jennifer Mary Alt OP, a member of the Cabra Dominican Sisters, is director of the Catholic Centre for Spiritual Growth sponsored by the Southern African Catholic Bishops Conference. With her doctoral research in cross-cultural personality studies, she has worked with religious in developing an African religious spirituality. She may be addressed at the Catholic Centre for Human and Spiritual Growth; P.O. Box 53 505; Troyeville (JHB); 2139 South Africa. ~uly-August 1992 519 Alt . .Re~roo~ng Religious Life cultural roots, was chiefly responsible for the suppression of the Donatists. Early North African Christianity was predominantly rural. These rural Christians had been formed by their own primal reli-gion. This religion revolved around being in harmony with the spiritual in life. The Ancestors--important good people who had died and who then lived on in spirit in the living--were seen as important mediators of the spiritual. Life among humans was seen as essentially social, and people got their meaning and pur-pose from living and working in harmony with other people. To be in a group was part of life. Over fifteen hundred years separate us from these earlier times, and Africa south of the Sahara is in a different position today. Yet it too moves from a very strong primal religious back-ground. In parts of Africa, for instance South Africa, much of the primal past has disappeared, but the beauty of its spirit remains. Unless one pays attention to it, one will find it difficult to under-stand the modern movements in religious life in Africa. A primal outlook on life in terms of human values is'a profound way of looking at it. The work of the Divine is easily seen in it. The connectedness between this outlook and the teachings of Jesus is easy to recognize. Unfortunately, modern religious life has been presented in Africa south of the Sahara as something foreign and Western, as something that has nothing to do with African values. In fact, African values had to be somehow discarded as one entered a reli-gious order. Westerners find the intricacies of life in Africa very difficult to understand and, without ill will, have misjudged much of what they saw, dismissing it as primitive and pagan. It is exceedingly important for people entering religious life to realize the continuity between the values they were given in their families and the values outlined in their religious rule. African religious largely see religious life as divorced from their past, as something quite other. They see the rules and regula-tions of religious living as something totally new which has to be learned. Because of this the rules of religious life remain largely outside of them. The rules have little effect on their feelings and attitudes. The result is that religious life tends to lose its mean-ing and become more a drudgery than a life-giving program. There is a saying which is practically ubiquitous in Africa. It runs in South Africa: "People are made people through other 520 Review for Religious people." In Swahili a similar saying is: "I am, you are, and because you are, I am." This circular statement sums up the insight which Africans have about people depending on one another and the insight that without people the individual is nothing. This aware-ness of dependence and interdependence is a far cry from the individualism of the modern. Western outlook. Dependence on God is the source of all spir-ituality and is clearly discernible in the African outlook. Africa has a strong belief in the spiri-tual life. Death is seen not so much as an ending, but as a passing into a spiritual way of being. In Africa everything material has its spiritual equiv-alent. In fact, nothing exists without its spirit. It follows that religious life is seen as essentially for the purpose of bringing people into contact with the Divine in a special way. If this does not happen, then religious life for the individual tends to remain on a material and self-centered level. The religious vocation is a call to a special relationship with the spiritual realm. Religious with their vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience are marked as essentially different from others, for they are in a sense outside the primal group of family, clan, and nation. They live in an area of liminality in life and in this area make contact with the Divine. Everywhere in Africa the call to the spiritual is treated with great respect and reverence. The call is seen as mysterious and very important. It is not questioned. Take, for example, persons who discern that they are called to be a sangorna, to be one who understands the relationship between the material and the Divine and who is specially equipped to interpret rifts that occur between the human and the Divine, rifts that are seen as the cause of all mental and physical illness. Such calls will not be dismissed lightly, and people will undergo rigorous training to equip themselves for their special task as a sangoma. The religious call is seen in this context. It also comes from the Ancestors of the family, and therefore no one should interfere with it. The Ancestors will protect the person so called. Africans believe that when outstanding members of the family or the nation die, they join the living dead. They live on in spirit in another member of the family. As a human being casts a shadow, so each human in the flesh represents the spirit of an Ancestor. A parent 'People are made people through other people.' 3n-uly-Augus~ 1992 521 who first refused to allow a daughter to enter a convent remarked on her behavior: "I was fighting with the Ancestors." In Africa the spiritual revolves around the Ancestors, who mediate the Divine in life. The blessing of the Ancestors needs to be invoked in all circumstances. This ancient method of prayer might seem fundamentalist to a Western person, but it suits many people in the indigenous churches. They invoke God in all cir-cumstances: when getting up in the morning, at the beginning of all jobs--nothing, in fact, is done without prayer to the Ancestors. MI church services center on asking the Ancestors for blessing and healing of any rifts between the living dead and the humans in the flesh. Prayer then centers on the spirit of reverence and respect: through prayer, healing and forgiveness are brought to ordinary human relationships, and rifts with the Ancestors are healed. In this way the negative effects in our lives are resolved, and we become healthy again. Religious in this context are people who are especially moved by the spirit, in a charismatic sense. Prayer then is warm, spon-taneous, and real. But if religious life is seen by Africans as a bureaucratic organization in which material advantages follow the keeping of the rules, even though many of the rules may cen-ter on saying prayers; then it remains outside the person and will not lead to a true conversion of heart. Young people who enter often see a religious house as a house protected by God. They see religious as being protected by God, and the convent as a place of shelter from the storms of life; God will protect the people whom he has called. Many young people enter to be protected from the violence in the streets. Young girls come to escape being raped. Parents send children to convents in order to prevent .them from joining gangs. As people turn to sangomas (the spiritual healers) to protect themselves from the chaos around them, so they send their young girls to convents for the same protection. They feel that no evil can enter a reli-gious house. They also feel that God protects his religious from economic disaster. Young people and their parents see religious houses as places where people will be educated, fed, and housed; as places where the chaos of grinding poverty and ignorance will be kept at bay. Religious will be protected from thes~ material disasters. It is essential in these circumstances to help young people, through self-reflection, to an acceptance of their African values in 522 Review for Religious the light of the Gospel values. This helps to bring about a con-version of heart in which the person is moved to choose Jesus and break out into the wider world of other people and their needs. Young persons, in answering their call, answer it on behalf of their entire family and the Ancestors whom they embody in their life. Therefore, when young people join a religious order, they do not come as mere individuals with little significance. They come as deserving of great respect. They are not alienated people of no back-ground. They are not nobodies. God calls people through an entire network of relationships. Young religious who respond are responsible, therefore, for answering the call of the entire network. This gives the religious a great sense of sup-port and responsibility. To know that one bears the spirit of a beloved grandmother or grandfa-ther in one's life makes the path less precarious, less lonely, and more meaningful. Second, it gives the religious a great sense of dignity and worth. Religious need to respect their own call, and others must respect it too. Without this sense of reverence and respect, the young reli-gious fails to have any sense of liminality. Religious life then becomes more a question of obeying external laws which do not touch the heart and of obtaining an education. Instead of reli-gious life being a development or an exploration of the spiritual, it can become monotonous and meaningless. When the crises come, as come they must, the religious will not choose Jesus, but will make an easier, more selfish choice. A common saying in Africa expresses this lack of conviction and choice: "That person is a Christian by day and an African by night!" A difficulty inherent in the above outlook arises when a reli-gious wishes to leave the convent. Leaving is looked upon as a disaster: the religious loses her ties with God. Her relationship with him is broken. It is in the light of this broken relationship that all future troubles will be judged. The following example is typical: A young'sister left a religious congregation and then failed to pass her nursing examination. She moved to teaching and was equally unsuccessful. This was seen to be the result of leaving the convent, not the result of lack of sufficient talent. It is important to stress, therefore, that the divine call arises out of our baptismal God calls people through an entire network of relationships. j~ly-August 1992 523 Alt . Rerootin Reli "ous Life call. It is this call that must be answered, whether it is lived out in the context of religious life or not. In Africa, to be in a group is part of life. The richness of the human exchange in a community enriches the individual. The individual who is not included in this exchange is drained of life, so to speak. Group living is full of all that is human. Contentment, excitement, joy, happiness, and security are part of that living as are tensions, fears, suspicions, and disharmony. But the underly-ing attitudes of loyalty and respect can keep a group together through major emotional upheavals. In Africa, people truly live community. In the West, people tend to theorize and talk about community, but find it difficult to live it. Both lifestyles have their problems. In Africa, people are meant to live in harmony with one another and with the Ancestors. The individual is meant to enrich the lives of others and to be enriched in return. A religious group thatis not living a life filled With the Spirit will tend to exhibit the spirits of discord and chaos. In such close-knit and complex living together, the individual can feel very vul-nerable. Fear of one another, fear of authority figures, is a natural component of such living. Unless the group is living in the Spirit, fear instead of acceptance and warmth can dominate the group. Community life is held back by fear. Individuals will keep quiet at community meetings, for example. Many opinions which could build up a community are not stated. This can lead to seri-ous mistakes being made. Superiors can go unchallenged and do irresponsible things. Individuals who choose to live a life which is not in accordance with their vows are also left unchallenged because others are afraid to say anything. Those who have this fear feel humiliated and inferior; they grow depressed; in the end, tension shows itself as an illness. Such fear of disharmony, of expressing conflicting opinions, can cause great problems to social and group life in Africa. If disharmony and conflicts arise, the group tends to split and quickly polarize. This process is very evident in the histories of many of the African Independent Churches. African political leaders have generally chosen a one-party style of government in order to avoid disharmony. In so doing they have introduced a totalitarian system which in practice is marked by tribalism and greed. Modern urban societies demand that we learn to live with some disharmony and difference of opinion. In fact, differences of opin- 524 Review.for Religious ion can lead to positive growth, for without differences adaptation to changing times and circumstances cannot take place. In Africa the method of handling differences is for the entire group to°come together and to discuss fully the pros and cons of the different opinions. In these long conversations each person is listened to, and the conversation does not end until consensus is reached. This is like methods of conflict management in the West. The Gospel message of Jesus enhances and brings to fruition the message which Africa can give our world in terms of the interdependence of humans and their dependence on the Divine. The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. The message of the great religious founders like St. Benedict finds spontaneous resonance in Africa. The message of religious life, which strives to express the values of the Gospel of Jesus, is not much different from African value systems. The message of Jesus helps people choose less selfish values. In Africa, choices are made according to how a person feels. They tend to be made in terms of present time. A person might, there-fore, at one time choose some abstract Christian value and at another time choose against the same value. But people who are moved by the Spirit choose more responsibly. For instance, peo-ple might not feel like helping when help is needed, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will go against that feeling and help nevertheless. Or, again, people may feel like getting revenge by not sharing, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will share. The transcendent message of Jesus helps people to consider beyond this present moment. Christians need to think about the consequences of present actions: Would the future be better, more Christian, as a result of choices we might make now? Often enough, thoughtless pragmatic choices can bring immediate sat-isfaction in terms of money, goods, or pleasant feelings, but the long-term effects of these choices can be extremly destructive. Africa is full of examples of people who pragmatically and selfishly participated in their own destruction. Africans took part in the slave trade. African leaders have greedily plotted the economic ruin of the countries they govern. Tribal rural people have taken The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. AI~ o R~'ng Reli ~ou~ monetary handouts from the West, which have led to the destruc-tion of their way of life and to a dependency on further hand-outs. Other cultures can be less utilitarian and selfish by taking their heritage very seriously and protecting it. The Chinese, .Japanese, and Indians have not allowed Western materialism and individualism free access into their cultures, and they have been less enthusiastic in terms of cooperating with the West. Africa can be rather like Esau, who sold his birthright for a mess of pot-tage, because Africa does not appreciate the richness of its social and spiritual heritage for itself and for the world. The message of.jesus builds deeper trust. Christ has through his death and resurrection conquered death and despair. He is above all spirits. He is above all ancestors. There is no need for Christians to fear curses or sangomas or their neighbor. Life for Christians is secure because .jesus has already overcome the spirit of death and chaos. .Jesus speaks a message of love of one's neighbor and of one's enemy. Christians have to consider people who do not belong to their group or clan as nevertheless belonging to the family of .Jesus. Such "outsiders" are not objects, and they must be treated with love and respect. In this way the Christian message brings peace to the troubled area of ethnic and tribal violence--some-thing which has brought misery and death to many millions in Africa and has impoverished whole nations of people. If Christ's message is allowed to bring to fruition the values which the African people received from-God through the Ancestors, much that is unauthentic can be removed from African life even as its contact with the West increases. 526 Review for Religious ALBERT DI IANNI Religious Life and Religion Some recent discussions on "refounding" religious life in which I participated were passionate and at times ended in discord. Admittedly the groups involved were tired and overworked, but this was not the whole explanation. The heat manifested in exchanges about potential cures for the ills of contemporary religious life springs from a deeper source, from a basic disagreement about the nature of Christianity and of religion. When I first encountered the notion of"refounding" currently in vogue, I welcomed it as an improvement over "renewal" because it seemed to demand a deeper conver-sion and a more radical rebuilding. It brought to mind the Carmelite reform at the hands of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross through an inventive retrieval of the spirit and discipline of the founders. Refounding seemed to invite us to set out once again upon a religious adven-ture demanding both great sacrifice and an engagement with the world that remained in some way separate from the world. Resistance to the notion mounted, however, with the repeated calls to identify "change agents" in the group who might encourage creativity in ministry and develop alternative community lifestyles. The more speakers lim-ited their discussions to talk about "delivery systems" for Albert DiIanni SM serves as vicar general of the Society of Mary (Marist). His address is Via Messandro Poerio 63; 00152 Rome; Italy. living religiously ~-uly-dug~_st 1992 527 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion change, namely, leadership models derived from anthropology and from corporate-reflection techniques borrowed from busi-ness psychology--the more they discussed only means--the more I felt I was being bundled down some primrose path. Before I discuss means, I want to discuss goals; before I accept help to move forward, I want to determine where I, where we, should want to go. This is possibly because I suspect that I do not want to go where some speakers want to lead me or that their advice about means carries some hidden freight about goals with which I do not concur. In a recent conversation about refounding, I found myself suddenly compelled to ask some strange, basic questions, not about religious life but about religion: What, for you, constitutes the heart of the Christian religion? What is its basic meaning or purpose? What engenders religion in the first place? Such ques-tions came to mind because I suddenly realized that our dis-agreement lay at a deep level, that we could not simply assume we would all answer such fundamental questions in the same way. This was not because anyone had expressly denied any belief which I held, but becaus{ they seemed to deflect or sidestep cer-tain ideas as old-fashioned or not in line with the particular action steps being recommended. The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me espe-cially when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality, be it personal, social, or ecolog-ical morality. In fact, any tendency to reduce religion to morality fires me up more than sociological or psychological reductions because it is more subtle and plausible and thus more seductive. But let me put my own cards on the table. What do I believe is at the heart of the Christian religion? (I will ignore the eso-teric distinction drawn by some between faith and religion and the theory that Christianity is not a religion but.a faith.) Though Christianity like other religions is an amalgam of many compo-nents, I believe that its strictly religious aspect lies in its being an answer to the experience of human contingency and the con-tingency of the world. Most people at some time in their lives have felt wonder that the world exists at all and have faced into the void of their own death. They moved beyond the taken-for-grant-edness of the world and became frightened by the thought that nothing at all might have existed and no possibility of anything. They wondered if there were an ultimate meaning to life or if 528 Review for Religious humans were but a sport of nature. Christianity's central doctrine is that the world need not have existed and that it was the object of creation by a good God. A Christian believer is convinced that at the center of the universe is not a surd but a personal Love. The philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein was not a believer. Norman Malcolm, his former student and biographer, says that he could not be called a religious person, but that he was passionately interested in religion and always seemed close to the possibility of religion. Wittgenstein once produced two examples of what he consid-ered bona fide religious experiences as opposed to moral or aesthetic ones. He respected them even if he thought that in entertaining them he was running up against the limits of language. One was the experi-ence of uncanniness that the world exists at all. The second was the conviction he some-times had that, whatever might happen, he would be safe. Neither of these experiences points of necessity to the existence of some transcen- The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality. dent reality, but they provide, the experiential ground from which many people move to affirm the existence of God. In such feelings and experiences, the affirmation that God exists is existentially grounded, becomes more than an intellectual proposition, takes root, finds a home. The first experience is the sense that a fleet-ing world must be rooted in a stable fundamental Reality. The second bespeaks a trust that cannot be explained without the pres-ence of a loving center of the universe. My own thoughts about religion center on experiences of this type. Admittedly my idea of religion has strong mystical over-tones; it is our response to radical contingency and, in its most primitive and deepest meaning, has little to do with morality. Religion refers primarily to a "holy" space out of which we and the world spring and gives rise to the imperative that each of us become holy, living our life in and for God. Beyond this I know that religion and morality are intimately intertwined and that a religious or holy person must also be morally good. One can hardly be holy and evil. Holiness means in part being extraordinarily kind, socially just, honest, temperate, a ~dy-Augvmt 1992 529 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion peacemaker. Yet it cannot be reduced to the practice of these moral virtues. For it is conceivable that someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, fos-ter social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious per-son. He or she could be moral out of personal taste, by temperament, for aesthetic reasons, or out of natural sympathy toward others, and not because of his or her relationship to God. Philippa.Foot, an Oxford moral philosopher and avowed atheist, once told a seminar group that she was such a moral person and that she refused to be patronized by being called an "anonymous Christian." A Christian religious person not only acts morally, but also sees the world in a new way--that it is dependent for its very existence on a transcendent reality and that this makes all the dif-ference. Because it is focused upon the transcendent, the Christian vision has specific ethical implications different from Enlighteflment theories which place the human person or freedom at the center of the moral endeavor. For the Christian the pri-mary response to the world is not that of owner and Promethean creator, but of humble and obedient creature; not an entrepreneurial relishing of power and freedom, but a Marian gratitude before God for all that God has wrought. From this Christian gratitude is born the imperative to love God and God's creation, to allow God to express the divine mercy through us, especially toward the weak and the abandoned. This Christian gratitude and its ethical implications are nourished and deepened through a close union with God in prayer. It is this vision, it seems to me, which should be at the heart of the life of consecrated religious. If they are to be prophetic, it is in this: that in their lives they point constantly to the tran-scendent moment of the universe and try to develop what it means. It is up to each group to decide how it will express this. Christian meaning exists in--and is to be found in--religious sis-ters, brothers, and priests when they are rapt in contemplation of God as well as when they are picking up dying persons from the streets. When people see one of them unremittingly engaged in both, they believe they are in the presence of a saint. Some contemporary Catholic lay people and members of reli-gious congregations seem to have lost sight of the transcendent pole of Christianity. Their model of Christianity has become what Charles Davis labels "pragmatic." The pragmatic version of 530 Review for Religious Christianity arose, he says, when "the Christian religion ceased to function mythically as an overarching totality . The emphasis therefore shifted to Christianity as a practical way of life or eth-ical system. This is still conceived in religious terms, such as the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of God's children, the kingdom of righteousness . But all these expressions are different ways of formulating the moral imperatives gov-erning human existence." ~ Both conservatives and liberals have made this pragmatic shift in Christianity. Conservatives stress per-sonal and family morality and such questions as abortion and euthanasia, and progressives stress social justice, ecology, and women's rights. Future historians may judge that the Vatican itself, but to a lesser degree, has been drawn into what I am characterizing as an overemphasis of morality. They may well remember Pope John Paul II as the "morality pope" because of his repeated statements about both per-sonal and social morality. In practice if not in theory, love of neighbor and enemy seem to have taken precedence over con-cern about union with God. Today's heresies all seem to be moral heresies. Not many Catholics seem concerned about dogmas, about trinitarian, soteriological, or Christological errors. And yet the history of the early church reveals that this was not always so. (I am at times tempted to fashion a brand-new trinitarian heresy to spur people to think more about God and less about themselves!) In this excessive emphasis on morality, the modern church reflects our secularized times, the age that mistook the world for God. In the late sixties, a time noted for its air of revolution, our seminary faculty once gathered the seminarians for a discussion on the question: W'hat are the most important qualities for being a priest and religious today? Some suggested approachability, oth-ers learning and competence, still others kindness or some other human virtue. I was surprised that no one spoke of holiness--a sure candidate just ten years before--and I pointed this out to Someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, foster social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious person. ~dy-August 1992 531 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion the group. One of the seminarians fixed me with a stare and said with an air of disdain: "Just be human, Father!" Recently I had the pleasure of interviewing Kiko ArgOello, the Spanish layman and artist who founded the Neo- Catechumenate movement, which offers a series of steps, a way, for modern Catholics to rediscover their baptism and be com-mitted to evangelization. I played the devil's advocate and asked whether his way (camino) of training lay people over a period of years did not produce an arrogant elite and end up creating more division than unity in parishes. His answer was in strict contrast to the seminarian's. He insisted that becoming a Christian today was not easy, regardless of what many priests trained since Vatican II seemed to believe. It did not suffice to simply shout the love slo-gan. Belief that God exists and that Jesus is in some way the son of God was difficult in a secularized culture. Besides, our world of drugs and violence, suburban adultery and abortion, euthana-sia and consumerism, was full of snares. It would not be suffi-cient simply to limit our preaching to a form of positive reinforcement. People had to be called to a public confession of their belief in God and Jesus, be brought to a felt need for con-version, be tested in their resolve, b~ supported by a tightly knit community, and be nourished by an adequate participative' liturgy. Needed, in his view, was a method, a way, a structure, a catechu-menate, 'to bring people squarely before their baptism and its implications for their lives. In so many words he was saying that it was simplistic for the 1968 seminarian to have said: "Just be human, Father." Yes, Christ is at work in the world wherever human good is being done, and we have to recognize and foster such work wher-ever we find it; but we must be aware, too, that fostering human-istic values and being a Christian are not in every way identical. Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection, the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, and the role of Mary. For a time in my adolescence, I wished I had been brought up neutral vis-~a-vis religion so that at the age of twenty-one I might consider all the major religions and choose among them without the prejudice of early Catholic training or brainwashing. But I know now that this is naive, for I have recognized that young people who have not been brought up in any religion end up by 532 Review for Religious having no religious sentiment or religiosity. They tend to remain religion-neutral, unable to make a choice in favor of any religion. George Lindbeck, a Protestant theologian, believes that, unless some religion is taught to us when we are young, unless we are brought up in some religious prac-tices, we might not even be capable of religious experience. This may be exaggerated, but I am sure it contains a grain of truth. One thing is certain: People are never brought up in a vac-uum of vision and values. If they do not absorb religious vision and val-ues, they absorb the secular vision and religion-neutral values of the movies and television. Especially in Europe several new lay Christian movements and reli-gious orders have been born in full awareness of this: the Focolarini, the Sant' Egidio community, the Neo- Catechumenate, the Lion of Juda, the Legionaries of Christ, and so forth. They all believe that becoming Christian in a secularized world is especially difficult and demands a way, a method, an entry through a kind of Christian subculture. It means leaving behind a lot of things that can seem very important from the world's point of view, but really are not. It demands kenosis, emptying oneself, in preparation for a radical decision in favor of Christ and God. Karl Rahner once declared: "A Christian in today's world will be a mys-tic or else he will not exist." And he went on to speak of mystagogy, the need of a method to lead people to see everything in God. I believe that one reason why religious congregations are in a mere survival situation today is that, in their admirable effort to take a positive view of the world, they have identified religion too strongly with a humanistic morality that tends to be secular-istic, individualistic, and overly egalitarian. History shows that almost all religious congregations enjoyed strong growth at their beginnings. They were exciting and attractive in part because they were new, but part of their attraction lay elsewhere. The early members had a sense of a religious adventure and cause larger than themselves which rendered them willing to forgo many personal rights and privileges.~They were members of what Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection. July-August 1992 533 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion have been called "intentional" communities as opposed to various "associational" and "bureaucratic" ones that have come into exis-tence since Vatican II.2 They were quite unconcerned with self-expression and equality, not because they were naive and subservient (today's caricature), but because they were caught up in a higher religious vision that enhanced and focused their ener-gies for God and the church. Most religious congregations were founded for three main purposes, the salvation of the members, the salvation of others, and dedication to a devotion or a way of the apostolate. Their charism did not lie only in the third element but in all three. Their purposes were decidedly religious and eschatological as well as incarnational. Today the eschatological has been pushed aside by an incarnational theology interpreted too secularistically and humanistically. Transcendent themes have been toned down in favor of an emphasis on egalitarian rights, on a type of justice interpreted not only as equity but as evenness, a kind of unifor-mity without differences. Everyone knows that only in unity is strength. But egalitarianism, by its very definition, effects an atomism and separateness within a group inasmuch as it deems individual rights and desires more important than the group's religious cause and adventure. Such stress upon egalitarian and humanistic ideals is an ide-ology. It is one way--and only one way--of interpreting democ-racy and justice in society and in religious groups. To oppose that ideology is not to give up democracy but to give it another inter-pretation. This was brought home to me recently as I overheard a conversation between an Mnerican priest--a born-again egali-tarian- and a young female member of the lay Sant' Egidio com-munity in Rome.3 Describing how the community functioned, she mentioned that in her particular community, because of its makeup and history, only certain men and no women were asked to speak at the prayer services. The American priest objected that this was a grave error, that it was supremely important--as a sym-bol and sign to others if not for her personally--that women be allowed to preach in every community. She answered that the Sant' Egidio community did not approach questions ideologi-cally, but pragmatically. Some of the other communities did have women preachers, but because of its particular history and tal-ents, her group preferred not to have them and she was happy with things as they were. She explained that for the Sant' Egidio 534 Review for Religious group three things were of paramount importance: (1) prayer together over the word of God, (2) friendship or mutual support, and (3) work for and with the poor. All else must cede before the achievement of these goals. The American priest's voice rose as he insisted that she was wrong and that the American interpretation of women's rights was correct. But she stood her ground and deftly changed the sub-ject. We have come full circle. In the 1960s, after many years of repression and an exaggerated supernaturalism, we needed to stress personal free-dom and responsibility and a true equality among the races and sexes. We had to recognize our duty before God to take responsibility to build up a world of justice and peace. But this did.not mean that such concerns should come to prevail in reli-gious congregations and sweep all else away in their wake. Now that we have seen the shadow side of such emphases in religious life, we can bet-ter take stock and rediscover that our involvement with the world must begin beyond the world. While the psychological and political agendas were very important for religious life, neither of them was the "one thing necessary." Religious life should center upon that in Christianity which relates our lives to the transcendent. It is here that we must seek its prophecy. It is in reminding people of the divine enchant-ment of the world that it must be countercultural. It is upon this that reflection on refounding religious life must insist. In her arti-cle "Religious Life and the Need for Salt,''4 Joan Chittister asks the right questions regarding contemporary religious life. She wisely concludes that the project of encouraging self-expression in traditionally repressed religious has now been achieved. She says we must now move to questions about the group and how it can be prophetic in today's world. But her answers, giving her interpretation of prophecy, are still too much centered on ecology, social assistance, and human rights and thus, by remaining within a pragmatic model of Christianity, seem but another reiteration of the program of liberal politics. These liberal concerns are impor-tant and must be addressed by the church: the laity, the clergy, and the religious. But addressing such issues, in my opinion, is not going to be the salvation of religious life. Its problems do not 'A Christian in today's world will be a mystic or else he will not exist.' .July-August 1992 535 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Relig4on arise from a neglect of them. Religious lack, not moral outreach, but religious centering. They fail to realize what the poor them-selves realize and express in their popular religions, that our union with God through Jesus is central, that we must work at it, and that it is primarily in this that we will be countercultural. Which is more countercultural--to say we must strive to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference? I have made some hard remarks and asked some hard ques-tions, and I would welcome a dialogue about them. I am sure I have not expressed them adequately, but I am convinced that they contain at least a grain of truth. I am encouraged in uttering them by the swing of young people in both Europe and North America toward an interest in the mystical sense of religion. In the 1960s the young were caught up in the humanistic values of psychol-ogy and sociology, but today's youth exhibit a great interest in mysticism, religious cults and movements, apparitions and heal-ings, the afterlife; and even reincarnation and the satanic. Does this not indicate that they are experiencing a deep void of mean-ing in an anorexic and bulimic world where money, notoriety, power, individualism, and equality have become the primary val-ues? Does not this cultural change signal that secular humanism for all its ethical achievements has also been an impoverishment by reason of a dearth of religious imagination? Is it not a sign of the times when people living in sophisticated technological cul-tures begin to be attracted to religious beliefs interpreted in a most .simplistic fashion? I know the good responses to the distinction I draw within Christianity between morality and religion. Most will describe it as dualistic--for contemporary pundits the most damning of epi-thets. They will say, "You are separating things that are essen-tially linked." Love of God and love of neighbor are two aspects of the same thing. If you do not care for the person you see, how can you say you love the God you do not see? Those who love God should find their love's primary expression in their dedica-tion to caring for their neighbor, whether friend or enemy. Prayer is missionary and missionary activity is prayer--and on and on. Others will say that I give a false description of the present sit-uation of religious life; they will deny that those engaged in social justice and ecology tend to pray less and to be less interested in the transcendent, in sacraments, and in the eschatological. 536 Reviezv for Religious I know these rejoinders are partly true, but also that they are partly false. I know that the two aspects of Christianity, religion and morality, love of God and love of neighbor, are very closely intertwined, and I am aware of Karl Rahner's brilliant attempt to conjoin them.5 But I know too that they are conceptually distinct because I have seen them separated in the history of the church. At times the church has experienced the extreme of quietism, an overem-phasis on faith without good works, and other times the heresy of action, a hectic involvement in important works of justice and charity to the detriment of prayer and interiority, the soul of the apostolate. It is up to each of us to examine our life to determine where we are. But I am convinced that the problems of religious life stem only partly from a lack of adequate delivery systems and from ignorance about psychol-ogy, social systemics, and anthropo-logical models in an age of rapid change. I am convinced that their deeper source lies in the confusion between religion and morality and in an insistence upon moral-ity because of a loss of faith and interest in religion. If Christian religion is centered almost exclusively upon doing the moral good, upon promoting social justice and ecology, or upon fighting pornography and abortion, then what is the mean-ing of doctrines and dogmas? Are they but religious, accouter-ments? If so, why not be honest and simply drop them? What is the meaning of the redemption through Christ for a religion reduced to morality? What is the meaning of the Eucharist? Are these dogmas and sacraments only stimuli for action, stories and symbols subtly swaying us to do what is truly important: foster-ing the construction of a socially just and ecologically sound world, creating the. kingdom of morality? Is the resurrection just a story whose real cash value is all those smaller resurrections which can occur in a society, in history, or in each human life? How is a religious congregation which centers so strongly on morality to be differentiated from such groups as UNICEF or the Which is more countercultural - to say we must strive ~ to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference ? ~dy-Augzlst 1992 537 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion A life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. FAO wherein men and women devote themselves to humanitarian causes at times for wages far lower than they could obtain else-where? I know that, since Vatican II, theologians including Rahner and Schillebeeckx have highlighted the thesis that Christ is at work in the world wherever good is. being done and humane causes are fostered. I am acquainted with the theories that the work of building up the kingdom of God is primarily a matter of our present life in the world, that salvation is not only after death but begins here, that the glory of God is man and woman fully alive. I am in sympathy with such emphases, but must also admit that they do not set me on fire; and judging from the vocation statistics of "progressive" congregations, I know that they have not stirred the young. For in my heart I suspect that such emphases are quite incomplete and were (in part) born of a loss of faith in the transcendent. For me Christianity centers not on us but on God. It demands a different vision of the world and reality, which generates a humble gratitude to the God who is responsible for all that is. One of Christianity's concerns is our inborn tendency to distort our freedom, arising from what Luther called the "in-curvedness" of our will. Christianity is about God and sin and the need for God's grace-ful hand to help us make proper use of our freedom. Christian religion must be about God and our relationship with God not only implicitly but also explicitly. It is from a union with God in prayer that light will emanate on how we are to relate to God, the world, and each other. And if a life is to be devoted to religion in a special way, if it is to be a consecrated religious life, it must be lived primarily in view of this relationship to God, not only in ideal but also in structure. It must be structured in such a way that the life of,the group abets in its members this concern about each one's relationship to God and gives witness of it to others. Such a life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. If this proves true, young people will surely again be attracted to this kind of life, not so much because 538 Review for Religious it is relevant or more interesting than the world, but simply because religious life so construed and so lived is what it purports to be--religious. Notes ~ What is Living, What is Dead in Christianity Today? (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1986), p. 39. -' See Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991

Issue 67.2 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Challenges Witnessing Being Disciples Ignatian Exercising QUARTERLY 67.2 2008 Re view for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to liveaccording to charisms, of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paulvl said_, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ 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. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor 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 Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib S'(/'D QUARTERLY 67.2 2008 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 134 challenges No Escape from Finitude John Navone SJ reflects about our struggle for human growth, our development with all its limitations, !n relation to our transformation through the risen Christ. Personal and Group Reflection Being Burned by the Fire Mary Joseph Schultz SCC ponders candles and fire and their symbolism in our spiritual life and growth. 114 140 159 witnessing Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley Avis Clendenen explores episodes from the lives of two churchwomen, the 12th-century Benedictine H]ldegard of Bingen and the 19th-century founder of the'Sisters of Mercy, Catherine McAuley, which show the duty and daring needed then and now in leadership that is transforming and transformational. Weavers of God: The Warp and the Weft Jeanne McNulty SFO, OCV, draws upon the art of weaving as an image of effort and pattern in our spiritual life. Review for Religious 165 173 181 being disciples Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment Damian C. Ilodigwe shows how Peter's forthright confession of Jesus as Son of the living God accentuates the importance of personal encounter with the Lord for authentic discipleship. Personal and Group Reflection Seeing with the Eyes of Christ Peter Schineller sJ suggests some practical ways that the imitation of Christ can become our way of seeing, thinking, and acting with the eyes, mind, and hands of Christ. The Celibate Aunt or Uncle: Another Blessed Vocation John J. Fisher OSFS describes the grace and gift of family as not only enriching our vocation as religious but also defining who we are as we minister to our wider, extended family in our various apostolates. Personal and Group Reflection 190 196 ignatian exercising What Is a "First Week Retreat"? David L. Fleming SJ presents a way of understanding the First Week of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, often called "sin week," as a time that is about deepening a relationship with God. Is the Church Ignatius's Fourth-Week Focus? J. Thomas Hamel SJ suggests that the Fourth Week of the Ignatian Exercises, which deals with the appearances of the risen Christ, might take' on a more ecclesial look as a kind of triptych. departments 204 Scripture Scope: The Letters and Theology of Paul 209 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon 215 Book Reviews lly 67.2 2008 prisms O~ 2 February 1974, Pope Paul VI issued his apostolic exhortation Marialis cul-tus. Following up on the liturgical reforms of Vatican I1, the pope desired to identify clearly the age-old norm for all theological and devo-tional development regarding the place of Mary in our Catholic lives. As the pope wrote, "In the Virgin Mary everything is relative to Christ and dependent upon him. It was with a view to Christ that God the Father from all eternity chose her to be the all-holy Mother and adorned her with gifts of the Spirit granted to no one else" (25). The norm is that Mary is always viewed in her relation to Jesus. Liturgical art, both Eastern and Western, has traditionally portrayed Mary with Jesus in its icons, statues, and paintings. It appears that it is only in the 19th and 20th centuries, espe-cially with the Lourdes and Fatima devotions, that the statues and paintings picture Mary by herself. The famous tilma-image of Our Lady Review for Religious of Guadalupe from the 16th century is not an exception. Mary is a woman wearing the broad band around her waist that signifies her pregnancy. Appropriately, then, our traditional imaging of Mary is always stressing her basic title from the earliest church councils. She is Theotokos--the Greek word meaning "the one who bears God." Mary is the first of the apostles; she is always the one who brings Jesus (God) to whom-ever she goes. From our New Testament account, we know that the event we identify as the Visitation follows immediately upon the Annunciation. Mary brings Jesus to her cousin Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist. Mary's place in all our Christian lives remains the same as it was for Elizabeth. She is a woman always on mission. She brings Jesus (God) to us. As a result, she remains for each one of us a model of our own Christian vocation. We all are meant to be like Mary in the light of our baptism in Christ. We too are "theotokoi"--people who bring Christ to whomever we go. We are like Mary, our model. We, too, are always on mission. We bring Christ by our way of speaking and acting or just by our way of being present to others. In every situation of our daily living, we Christians are on mission, bringing Christ to others. David L. Fleming SJ Miss Jean Read, an RfR staff member from 1975 to 1998, died peacefully on 23 February 2008 at the age of 96. Answering the office phone, she was the soul of friendliness and readiness to accommodate people in whatever questions or needs or desires they had. She was a proofreader par excellence. We can have a healthy envy of her and her long and good life. 67.2 2008 JOHN NAVONE challenges No Escape from Finitude Life stories, true life stories, involve a struggle from the start. We have complex relationships to work out with the members of our family. We are marked by our early experiences for the rest of our lives, even though changes occur in the way we perceive events, imagine ourselves, understand others, and choose to act at various stages of our life. As our life goes on, changes become more and more difficult. 1181 Human Authenticity Calls for Struggle People hope to grow in sensitivity and responsiveness to true values, but such growth is not inevitable. There are human failures and mediocrities. Continuous development varies with people's roots, their opportunities, their good fortune, their adroitness in avoiding set-backs. People can come to recognize harmful, John Navone SJ has written for this journal for more than four decades. His address is Via Silvio Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze; Italy. Review for Religious dangerous, and misleading satisfactions for what they are and drop them. They can choose not to let discom-fort, pain, and privation obstruct their pursuit of true values. They can discover values they had previously overlooked. They can move beyond mere personal tastes and interests to benevolence and beneficence towards others. They can disdain rationalizations, open them-selves to things as they are, and help themselves and others to become what they should be. This is a matter of creative tension struggling towards personal integration. Various conflicting claims and urgencies divide us. Our human relationships can-not be free of all constraint or ambiguity. Our authentic personal development needs questions and problems no less than answers and solutions. In fact, every answer and solution prepares us for the creative tension of fur-ther questions and problems. We develop when we are steadily oriented toward goals which strain our personal resources and are truly worthwhile. Tension between Desires and Limits We experience a tension between our desires and our limits. Desire, imagination, and inquiry would seem to have no fixed limits; a corollary of the absence of limits would be the absence of any need to choose. We learn from experience which desires are impractical and to be dismissed. False or exaggerated ideals, desires, and plans could lead to negative consequences, and so we deliberate about what actually can be implemented. We settle on a possible course of action and proceed. Such a decision implies the acceptance of limits. As G.K. Chesterton wrote: "Every act of will is an act of self-limitation. To desire action is to desire limitation. In that sense every act is an act of self-sacrifice. When ,I19 67.2 2008 Navone * No Escape from Finitude Christian faith does not believe that the tension between desire and you choose anything, you reject everythingelse . If you become King of England, you give up the post of Beadle in Brompton." Goods chosen imply goods renounced. Our decisions ratify and increase our.limitations. Our commitments imply our acceptance of limitation. Our desires, hopes, dreams, and ideals strain against that limitation, but limits remain even when our desires are fulfilled. Jesus Christ, the paradigm of Christian faith, never sought exemption from limits, decisions, or death. Christian faith is lived in the concrete realities of finitude and resists flight into illusion. With no escape from finitude, it relies on God's will and grace. Our actions are sustained by desire of some kind. We seek to attain something we deem good, straining __ against limits. Changing our-selves or our situation implies an ideal which limits should be resolved by differs from our present reality. eliminating desire. This ideal must have come to terms with lim-its; if not, it would remain an empty dream. Christian faith does not believe that the tension between desire and limits should be resolved by eliminating desire. A contemporary theologian says: "For Buddhism, the supreme perfection is to kill desire. How distant the men of the Bible, even those closest to God, seem from this ideal! The Bible is, on the contrary, filled with the tumult and conflict of every form of desire D.e.sire is essential and ineradicable." 120 Review for Religious The Challenge of Serious Decision Making Often our reluctance to make serious decisions and choices is less a fear of suffering than a secret dread that permits few illusions or certainties about what will fol-low. We share with Hamlet the tendency to indefinite postponement; we might, with Heyst in Joseph Conrad's Victory, choose drift. Even that fails. Heyst elect~ some-thing that is not there to elect: security by withdrawal and passivity. Persons who choose to ignore the demands of their circumstances choose what is itself a form of death. Our very needs become known to us as inner tensions, and the way we strive to fill them requires choice. A good choice relieves the tension. Other needs will become evident later, and other choices can attend to them. If our inner tensions imply our need for new deci-sions, our decisions demand awareness and strength. The lack of such strength makes us pathetic. On the other hand, strength is of no use if we are not aware of alternatives. If decisions are to be fully free and human, all that one knows must come into play, and one's will-ingness to detect self-deception. The Second Vatican Council gives expression to the inner tension within which our decision making takes place: The truth is that the imbalances under which the modern world labors are in line with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For in man himself, many elements wres-tle with one another. Thus, on the one hand, as a creature, he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other~ he feels him-self to be boundless in his desires and sum-moned to a higher life. Pulled by manifold attractions, he is constantly forced to choose among them and to renounce some. (GS §10) 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No E~cape from Finitude Fear of Insignificance There is a tension at the heart of every human life story, which Ernest Becker describes as the fear of insig-nificance. This tension reflects the human nature at the heart of the life story. As a contemporary author puts it: "Man has a symbolic identity that brings him sharply out of nature. He is a symbolic self, a creature with a name, a life history. He is a creator with a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity." At the same time, "man is a worm and food for worms." He lives in the tension of his duality. His inner self enjoys freedom of thought, imagination, and the endless reach of symbolism; his body limits, however, determine and bind him. This tension is aggravated by the fact that we are not living among ideal persons in an ideal, world. From the aggra-vation of our basic predicament, we often seek pseudo-solutions to avoid having to face the tragic aspect of life. Rousseau taught the French Revolution that people were good and institutions evil, so reorganize the institutions, and people will be able to be good. He assumed that, by their own unaided efforts, people could create institutions to resolve all their tensions and conflicts. 122 Development within Limits Some lives are more integrated than others; some are more full of conflict. We can search for our own true story only within certain limits of possibility and prob-ability. The recognition and acceptance of these limits is, in fact, the only way to the realization of our true story-- the story most appropriate to our authentic possibilities. Tensions are aggravated when we try to be what we cannot be, when we pretend to be other than we are. They are aggravated at the social level when a political ideology engenders in the masses a passionate hope for a utopia Review for Religious without the means to attain it. Both individuals and societ-ies can miss their true stories through self-deception with regard to their true and limited possibilities. Detachment from self-interest and bias is difficult to achieve. We sense the gap between our possibilities and our actual moral achievements. Awareness of our moral inadequacy cre-ates a tension which we often attempt to resolve through rationalization, a "cover story" that is out of joint with our experience. Guilt, rationalization, and self-deception imply the painful experience of moral finitude in our aspiration toward values and our true possibilities. Creative Crises The personal crises of a life story are often turbu-lent, but they do not necessarily have the disintegrating effect of severe mental illness. The powerful emotions which erupt from a personal crisis can signify a per-sonal liberation from false beliefs and lead to a more productive life'. One can emerge a stronger and better person. Some hardship, suffering, or mental anguish is the lot of everyone. These things are potentially creative; they can help individuals improve the quality of their inner self. Economic prosperity and a good educational system are no guarantee of personal morality, charac-ter, and maturity. People grow by passing through such critical periods as coming of age, getting married, the birth and raising of children, and the advent of bereave-ments, old age, and dying. Frustration, too, may assist personal development, for character and personality are achieved through overcoming difficulties with patience, intelligence, and persistence. Getting all we want when we want it does little towards personal development; it even seems to preclude personal growth. 123 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude Some hardship, suffering, or mental anguish is the lot of everyone: The psychiatrist Kazimierz Dabrowski has developed a theory of mental growth through positive disintegra-tion. He holds that, to achieve a thorough integration of the cognitive, moral, social, aesthetic, and other such human functions, one must undergo a disintegration of a previous integration. The positive disintegra-tion of an integration characterized by biologi-cal determinism, automa-tism, rigidity, stereotyping, and a lack or low degree of consciousness is effected by a growing insight into oneself and others and a con-scious and deliberate adoption of other multilevel and multisided understandings. 124 The Correlative Notion of Self and God Our personal history in the use of the word "God" may reflect a maturation process characterized by criti-cal turning points and creative suffering. Inasmuch as our notions of self and God are correlatives, we may uncover something about our own identity by exploring our encounters with the word "God" in our personal crises. If Christ means "he who saves us from a self-centered existence," personal crises may be prerequisites for finding God's true value in our lives. Concentration on self-preservation and self-satisfac-tion, on what appears to keep us from harm, turns love in on itself and blocks it from going out to God and oth-ers. It is good if our personal crises liberate us to live in society with God and neighbor. Never to be free from self-concern about our slightest needs is the condition Review for Religious of alienation from God and neighbor. It is only in our God-given ability to respond to God's self-surrendering love that we can be free to live and love anything other than ourselves. Personal maturation entails suffering in confronting crises in our lives. Carrying our cross daily implies the Christian conviction that, to understand scriptural truth adequately, we need to experience the cross in our lives. Those who can freely lay down their lives for their ide-als and values are persons who have been strengthened by their Master's mission and by their joyful awareness of being loved by him. Such freedom comes from expe-riencing with others a grand participation in God's life of self-giving love. If our notions of the self and God are correlatives, they alert us to the suffering of others, to the reality of their condition, the condition of all those to whom we are related and whom God loves. The Book of Genesis affirms the goodness of the world when it describes God affirming the goodness of it. The compassion that Jesus felt for the afflicted is the compassion of his Father. Not only our notions but also our feelings about the self and God are cor-relative. A reasonable love for oneself betokens a rea-sonable love for others. Its reasonableness includes a profound awareness of the self as gift, as dependent for its existence on the loving generosity of the Giver. Our personal crises should help us to mature in our under-standing of the love which the Giver expresses in his gift of the self and other selves; they remind us that we are not autonomous monads, that our existence and happiness depend on others. Adrian Hastings affirms that cruel people want a cruel God, and cruelty has been a characteristic of human society: the sadism and masochism of the human 6Z2 2008 Navone * No Escape from Finitude race time after time create a face of God as cruel as itself. Old Testament theology could not be unaffected by the cruel divinities all around and the cruelty of the Israelites themselves; still, Hastings believes, the heart-rending struggle of the Old Testament was to show that such was a false face of God, that Yahweh is not mer-ciless but merciful. Our behavior reflects the face of God that we see. What we do or do not do expresses the meaning of our God-talk; our behavior reflects the healthiness or unhealthiness of our vision. 126 The Face of God in Christ Crucified The face of God is revealed in personal crises. Jesus on the cross reveals the compassionate face of God. "Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father" On 4:18). For Christians the cruelty of the cruel cannot express the nature of God; rather, it is the most outra-geous denial of it. A personal face, the face of Jesus, the suffering and crucified Messiah, is the face of the God of love and compassion. This is the reality which the apostolic church communicates in its preaching: "We preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). Those who die with Christ rise with him; the cross is the security of Christians. The evangelists speak of the cross in considerable detail, for this is the story of Jesus' ministry making available the way to God. To preach the cross is to preach the resurrection; for it is the message of the cross that sets us free: "dead, yet here we are alive" (2 Co 6:9). On the cross the Son of Man recovered our lord-ship in and over creation, through the obedience for which we Were created. The true face of God is revealed in the Crucified; the loving obedience of Christ is for Review for Religious Christians the model of the perfect self. What Christ has done at Calvary creates and shapes our notion of God, the correlative of our notion of the self that is Christ. Calvary reveals a God who serves his creatures with a compassionate, healing, and community-creating love; it is God giving his life for his people in the high priest who is also victim. Calvary expresses the loving servanthood of God in Christ which gives direction to Christian faith and action. The stoW of Jesus is the stoW of God waiting on us: "The blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them" (Mt 11:5). It is the story of a costly, commit-ted, and constant Love that prevails over death. Jesus' life is the parable of God's rule, the embodiment of God's diakonia. Paul appeals to this when he says, "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Ga 6:2). The way of the cross is the way of Christian maturation in a life of theocentric self-transcendence. It is the way to meet personal and social crises, not a way of escaping them. To preach the cross is to , Treach the resurrection. Communion: God's Purpose for Us All The suffering of Calvary transformed the Jewish con-cept of Messiah among the first Christians. At the Last Supper, Jesus waits on his disciples. The servant who waited at table in Jesus' day was the diakonos. Now Jesus, the master, in washing the feet of his disciples, performs the new diaconal deed, the embodiment of agape: "A new {_/27 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude 128. commandment I give to you, that you love one another even as I have loved you" (Jn 13:34). "As I have loved you" points to God's kind of love, the love of costly self-giving. The diaconal deed of the Last Supper expresses the saving, community-creating love of service and friend-ship. According to John's Gospel, Jesus thought of his disciples as sharing in his diaconal work of cosmic redemption. "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (3:16). "In the world you have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world" (16:33). "He who believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I go to the Father" (14:12). Communion through Self-Expending Love Acts of self-expending love for others, rather than out-of-the-body experiences, are Christians' usual confir-mation of the life after death that the risen Jesus' appear-ances express: "We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brethren" (1 Jn 3:14). Paul relates Christ's love to our Christian belief in life after death: "I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 8:38-39). The completion of God's purposes for his entire creation and our individual destiny are indivisible, for our lives occur and develop in community. Our lives are incomplete without a depth of fellowship with God and with others, even though this fellowship is only a fore-taste of our joyful participation in God's glorious life, which is the ultimate object of our Christian hope. Review for Religious The Christian vision of God is incompatible with indifference to injustice and the suffering of others. Its vision is of a trinitarian God whose being is in commu-nity, and whose self-expending love creates community. In the light of this vision, salvation is participation with others in the goodness and beauty of God's self-giving love: "Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on us what God has prepared for those who love him" (1 Co 2:9). Life and Death in the Paschal Mystery For Christians the risen Christ is the focal point of a theme common to all religions, the pursuit or convic-tion of the ultimate nature of reality. The resurrection of Christ is the key to meaningful life in a numinous but incomplete world. This awesome and fascinating event~ysterium tremendum et fascinans--is at the heart of the life coming out of death that is shown in love of our brothers and sisters (1 Jn 3:14). It is the key to understanding the fulfillment of our life stories in the perfect community of God's kingdom, and also to understanding the mission of the church in solidarity with all humankind. The community of Christian faith interprets the life story of Jesus Christ as a divine summons to a personal and social transformation that requires prayer, informed conscientiousness, and appropriate action. Paul is the community's spokesman both when he preaches what God has done for us in Jesus Christ and in his recogni-tion that the "old man," the old self, self-centeredness, does not die a sudden death. There is a phenomenol-ogy of both life and death at every level of our con-sciousness. There are incontrovertible signs of physical death, and there are incontrovertible signs of physical 129 67.2 2008 Na~one ¯ No Escape from Finimde life. There are similar signs at the psychic, affective, intellectual, and spiritual levels of our existence which are perhaps not as readily discerned. Many of the names or titles referring to Jesus are metaphors, Tides for the Life-Enhancing Jesus Metaphor is a way of grasping the unknown through the known, of relating our former experience, to our new experience. Our metaphors say a great deal about what we are, or are like, and about what we are becoming. They can express the self and help in telling life stories. They are a clue to our feelings about our relationships and about the Mystery which is their context. Many of the names or rifles referring to Jesus are metaphors. Jesus defines himself in terms of the life-enhancing effect he has on others, an effect which cre-ates a community. To John's disciples he says: "Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, good news is proclaimed to the poor, and happy is the one who does not lose faith in me" (Lk 7:22-23). Jesus is what he does. He is sight for the blind, legs for the lame, purity for lepers, word for the deaf, good news for the poor, and the happiness of the believer. The community of faith manifests the new consciousness that Jesus Christ creates. Jesus' life shows the previous deficiency of individual and communal human existence. People diagnose illness from their awareness of what constitutes good health. Review for Religious Human Transformation through the Risen Christ "Almost twenty centuries have elapsed since the Christ-event took place, and yet no completely satisfy-ing overall explanation of that fact has been proposed," states Joseph Mitros sJ. Theological studies, the sciences, and philosophy have opened new vistas concerning the origin of humankind and its physical and moral state, concerning the problem of evil and liberation from it. These achievements and the data they provide must be evaluated and then integrated into present knowledge before more satisfying answers can be found. There is, however, no doubt among Christians about the risen Christ, the transformation of the apostles, and the community of Christian faith. The apostolic, evangelical, patristic, medieval, modern, and contem-porary theological attempts to explain the Christ-event originate in the reality of Jesus Christ's resurrection. Clement of Alexandria taught that the incarnate Logos illuminates the believer with his own incomparable light. Athanasius and Cyril of Alexandria wrote elo-quently of Christ as the light of the world and as the giver of the Spirit of truth, transforming humankind through enlightenment. There is no single formulation of the .doctrine of the Christ-event in the patristic period. The exemplarist tra-dition describes the effect of the risen Christ primarily as moral regeneration, a redirection of the human mind and heart. The Western liturgical tradition tends to note what Christ's self-giving love has achieved for others. The Eastern liturgies see the event as a rescue and a healing. Christ the victor has enabled us to experience a deliverance from evil, whereas Christ the illuminator explains our entry into a life-giving reality. Humankind has been brought from darkness to light, from blindness 13,1 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude to vision, from bondage to freedom, from turmoil to peace, through our participation in Christ's gift of his Holy Spirit, through our divinization (theosis), through our becoming brothers and sisters of Christ and sons and daughters of his Father. The experience of the lex orandi, of communion with the risen Christ in prayer, stimulates theological reflec-tion on his life story throughout the centuries. It bears witness to tile resurrection as God's action on behalf of humankind and as the transformation of humankind in relation to God. Christian Hope Transcends All Images For every doctrine which sees human lives in rela-tion to Jesus Christ's life stow, the elements of divine and human, of once-and-for-allness and human fulfill-ment, are essential. The saving effect of the risen Christ on our life stories is interpreted according to different models of various cultures throughout the centuries. When they clarify how, through the risen Christ, we may live life more fully, they serve God's people well. The community of faith, however, lives in a state of tension, aware of its limitations. It is only on the way to the fullness of life in the kingdom of God. Our present situation feels precarious, and the future kingdom seems remote. There is .tension between the kingdom to be revealed at the end of history and that same kingdom already present in the Christian faith community and in the lives of individuals going through the stages of their own life stories. Christians live in hope. There is a continuity between this hope and the grace-filled pull of God's eternal kingdom. There is, however, an obscurity surrounding this kingdom. The reason, according to Kevin McNamara, Review for Religious is that the object of our hope is none other than God, the question-raising and question-answering Mystery at the heart of all human life. And so any clear and definite idea of our true future can only be provisional. Christians cannot commit themselves absolutely to any blueprint for human happiness. We are always aware that something is missing, that our true hope eludes all human definition and planning. Josef Pieper says this about hope: "What marks the true hope is that [a per-son] holds himself in readiness for a fulfillment which goes beyond every imaginable human postulate." Hope, nevertheless, experiences the goodness and promise of the Mystery encompassing our life stories. Christian hope, defined by the Christ story, is not without some positive knowledge of what the future kingdom will be like. The titles and names of Jesus, the doctrines and models with which the church discusses our diviniza-fion in Christ, are all attempts to express this positive knowledge of and hope for the kingdom of God. Personal and Group Reflection 1. How have I handled the tension between realizing my desires and, by shutting out other possibilities, experiencing my limits? When have I experienced this tension as bringing me closer to Christ? 2. What is my response to the statement: "The face of God is revealed in personal crises" (p. 126)? 3. What name or title for Jes~s is my favorite? Can I explain the meaning of this title? " 67.2 2008 MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Being Burned by the Fire 134] l have come to set the earth on fire, and how I .~. wish it were already blazing" (Lk 12:49). Last year my mind and heart were caught up in this Gospel verse from a Sunday liturgy. Some phrase spoken by the homilist hit a nerve in me and inspired me to pon-der the symbolism and the reality of fire. Why do we use a flame to witness to the Eucharistic Presence in our tabernacles? Why are candles and flames frequent symbols of religious life? What is the primal image of fire saying to me today? How might God use me and my community to set the world ablaze? Open to the Fire Though I have never learned the art of creating fire, I know that kin.dling a flame from scratch requires effort, concentration, and patience. It also requires the proper materials. Using a match is so much easier, but how much more satisfying it must be to create a fire Mary Joseph $chultz SCC last wrote for us in our 65.2 (2006) issue. Her address is Assumption College for Sisters; 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. Review for Religious using only rudimentary materials, persistent friction, and breath! Long ago Jesus desired to create a spark in me, at the first beckoning to religious life, when I was a child. He chose me, the most rudimentary of kindling, unknown middle child, shy and backward, plain and unassuming, and invited me to leave home and lend myself to the creation of fire. Calling me to join, at fourteen, a small and little-known religious community in a tiny, obscure New Jersey town, he knew his plan. He desired to use me as kindling, if only I would agree. The dry ordinari-ness of my life could actually catch fire more easily, I suppose. I was easily uprooted and picked up, and will-ingly I came. The chafing and friction began at once. Over these forty years, there has been constant rubbing. Isn't that what community life is for, at least in part? The twig with so many rough edges has lent herself to the Divine Hand. Personalities, assignments, self-knowledge, faults, losses, illnesses, disappointments and shattered idols-- all were offered for the kindling, warmed by the Spirit's breath, and the friction came fast, furious, and constant. How else to create a fire? God rarely uses a match! The twigs of my life were all laid bare, bark removed, and the quickening hand chafed a new spark, a blaze to be used for others. The breath of the Spirit has been ever present, gende, and at times unsettling, fanning the spark into flame. Imagine the patience of God! Most times the liv-ing Wind has been imperceptible to the kindling, stir-ring up smoke and covering its source, always keeping the promise of a blaze alive. Persistent breath needs to change direction if one side is unresponsive. The Breath never gives up in its passionate desire for flame. 135 67.2 2008 Scbultz, ¯ Being Burned by the Fire Eventually the Spirit came with greater urgency, the kindling was in just the right place and disposition for the fire to catch. Now the Breeze was more needed than ever to sustain the blaze, as is still the case. Where would I be without the constancy of the Spirit, nourishing, lighting, stoking the flame, and keeping the blaze alive? As I approach a fire I can choose to take one of three gtances: warmth, risk, or consummation, 136 Coming Close: Warmth, Risk, Consummation As I approach a fire I can choose to take one of three stances: warmth, risk, or consummation. Coming close, especially on a winter day, the warmth is delight-ful. It sets me at ease, calms the shivering limbs, and holds out to me a promise of comfort. I drop my burdens and begin to loosen my wraps, undo the scarves with which I am bound up, and settle in near the comforting warmth. The fireplace can be romantic., a rosy glow to melt away harsh realities and frozen relationships . . . the honeymoon of novitiate days and early ministries when all was right with the world. Soon a promise (threat?) of change creeps into the heart. The Spirit Breath is still blowing. The flames lick higher. Should I choose to back off?. Why risk losing comfort? The rosy glow lulls me, even into a trancelike state. It becomes easy to go through the motions of reli-gious life, near the fire but not in it. Content to observe, being warmed and even nourished, I need to take no risks and I am definitely not consumed. Safety is compromised Review for Religious by getting too close to the Fire, too involved. If I get too near I will be burned. And yet It draws me. I come closer, even at times reach out a hand, and I am singed. Fire purifies, but only when I am close enough. Gold is not refined, iron is not melted, food is not cooked, and a wick is not set alight when kept at a safe distance. I am useless unless I allow the Fire to surround me, catch hold and use me, draw me in to consume. For what else am I saving my life? The flames beckon, even mesmerize, as I contemplate them, but I had better be aware of the risks if I choose to draw closer. The Fire is painful. Over the years when times of suffering enveloped me I have rarely realized the close-ness of God. On the contrary, God seemed utterly dis-tant, mere vapor on the horizon. Only in retrospect did I realize that it was God's closeness and my immersion in the Fire that caused the pain. I could not draw close to a Flame without being burned. Risky? Yes! But also so necessary to be a part of the blaze set upon the earth. Being one with the Fire fulfills my purpose in being. Was I not called to be a holocaust? To remain on the periph-ery, insipid and lukewarm, might be safe, but it is surely not productive. Leaving the rosy, romantic glow of the fireplace to jump into the Blaze is what religious life is all about. I need to be enveloped if I am to be of any use. Being Fire Wood that is caught, right in the middle of the fire, takes on the appearance of the fire itself and loses its own identity. The log glows from within. No longer do sparks dance on the edge, no longer is there only risk of being singed, but now the blaze works its magic from the core. It consumes the willing fuel. Fire and fuel can no longer be separated. 67.2 2008 Schultz ¯ Being Burned by the Fire Leaving the rosy, romantic glow of the fireplace to jump into the Blaze is fohat religious life is all about, 138 Fire burns away the dross and purifies only as much as the wood lends itself. If I resist, roll away, fall off the pile back to a safe distance, my comfort zone, I will not be touched. I will save myself, but for what? I might still feel the warmth as I seek to return to the "safety" of my earlier days. But once I risk being part of a conflagra-tion I cannot go back or run away. My already singed self tells the tale. I had caught the light and begun to burn. Now nothing but total consumption can satisfy me. Why pretend otherwise? I have also learned that seasoned wood burns the best. Wood too moist, too green, too full of sap (self) leaves no room for the flame to take hold. It sizzles, spits, and smokes, too little fire to be of much use. I must let myself be alone to dry, to be cured, even to unfeeling brittleness, as the sap is drained from me and I lie lifeless on the ground, forgotten for the time being. The Stoker of the Fire will again pick me up when I am ready, gather me when I can be of most use, when the flames can really do their job. What does it mean to become Fire? To me it means nothing less than being Jesus, the Light of the world. He is the one who called me, the kindling. He lets me lie at times, unused because I am not yet useful., too green and full of the self-sap that deters the flame. I need to be seasoned, over and over again, dried out and left alone. Only when I am ready will he gather me up Review for Rdigious for kindling, hold me close and breathe his Spirit, all the while applying friction where most needed, turn-ing me this way and that, harder and faster for sparks to catch. There is nothing else for me but to become Fire. In this is my purpose, the purpose, I believe, of all religious men and women. Let God throw me into the Fire. Let Jesus take me over, glow in me, radiate warmth and light, and let me be a part of the blaze ignited by Love on earth. Let me be part of something much bigger than myself. In my consummation my life is fulfilled. Unveiled Hide not Your face. Show me Your face. And though that sight Be my death, I shall live indeed. Show me that incandescent, Altogether lovely face, That earth-splitting, Sky-rending, Fire-kindling face. Be my sole desire, Burn bright in me Until I am molten gold Reflecting only You. Teresa Burleson 139 67.2 2008 AVIS CLENDENEN witnessing Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley Do you remember having a Jeremiah experi-ence once a long time ago? You told God "I am only a youth" and God said, "Be not afraid for I am with you" (Jr 1:4-8). Do you remember that first consciousness of being called, when the clay of youth was moist and malleable? A time when you took for granted that the Potter was on your side, shaping you? When you felt that you and your companions were singing the new church into being? In your commu-nity, do you notice treasure dwindling away? In the anxiety and bewilderment of this our time, how desperately do you seek to prevent further loss? In these days, when I find myself among women and men religious to share faith and 140 Avis Clendenen wrote for us in the September-October issue of 1999. She is professor of Religious Studies at Saint Xavier University; 3700 West 103 rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Review for Religious community, I sometimes think of recalcitrant clay and a frustrated Potter. I wonder if some have adapted Jeremiah's words from "too young" to "too old": "Ah, Lord God! I am weary from speaking the truth in love. Our best days are behind us. I am too old." And God says: "Do not say, 'I am too old,' for even now to all to whom I send you you will go; be not afraid, for I am with you to deliver you." Jeremiah would understand and empathize with the disillusionment, even terror, of feeling that life is falling apart. The youthful Jeremiah found himself in the stocks in midlife. His view (Jr 20:1-9) provides a window into his soul. Walter Brueggemann reminds us that it is in prayer that this prophet of deep dispute finds sustenance for his life and ministry; he finds sus-tenance, however, only in continued dispute. Can you imagine the dialogue as Jeremiah struggles with the God who called him to his vocation in the first place?2 Was he not the one to whom Yahweh addressed the lovely words of "knowing him before he was formed in the womb, consecrating him, and appointing him prophet to the nations"? The help in destabilizing situ-ations, Brueggemann proposes, is honest conversation that draws God in deep and thick.3 Brueggemann goes on to say: "This is the very God to whom prayers can be reliably made, not a therapeutic God, not a warm fuzzy, not a dear uncle, but God of hosts, God with hard capacities and stern resolves. Jeremiah prays to and trusts this God, because alone he cannot withstand his persecutors and he will not appeal to a God who is kind but helpless.''4 Jeremiah's confinement is the kiln of his becoming. He finds a deep freedom; he finds duty and daring, cour-age for the next challenge. He is the patron prophet of 141 67.2 2008 lendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley 142 The Christian faith itself is built upon anamnesis/ best days ever before us, not behind us. What we know about the ministerial vocation is that it keeps unfolding in unexpected ways, that safety is never forever. We will feel fire in our bones from now till the time, as Rahner says, when the harvest of our earthly life is enfolded into the Incomprehensible Mystery of the One past-all- graspness. Until that day we are still in the world's grasp, striving to discern the Spirit's complicity in the losses we experience and to imagine a new vision from the confines of the stocks. How do we tend the fire when the embers are struggling for air? As people of faith we live in anamnesis: the retrieval of deep memory so powerful that reality being recalled from another time becomes present. The antonym of anamnesis is amnesia, the loss of a large block of inter-related memories. It is a catastrophic and sad reality to lose one's memory. People of the Book and those who treasure the long sweep of religious his-tory experience anam-nesis in their liturgical remembering and in the duty and daring of their vocation. The Christian faith itself is built upon anamnesis: "Let us proclaim the mystery of faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again." The lyrics of Marty Haugen's "We Remember" capture the why of our charge not to forget: "We remember how you loved us to your death, and still we celebrate that you are with us here" (GIA, 1980). This remem-bering roots us in a permanently meaningful past, holds us meaningfully in the present, and orients us toward the future whose meaning we are called to both wait Review for Religious for and bring about. Such Catholic remembering effects what it signifies by evoking and provoking what Johann Baptist Metz long ago called "dangerous memories." He said there are memories of earlier experiences that break through the center point of our lives and reveal new and dangerous insights for our present. They subvert our structures of plausibility. They are like dangerous and incalculable visitants from the past.5 Dangerous Memories Only those who have been transformed to some degree can be agents of larger transformations. Transformation usually relies on the ordinary forma-tive episodes of our lives. The Jungian scholar Murray Stein says, "The transforming person is someone who realizes the inherent self to the maximum extent pos-sible and in turn influences others to do the same.''6 Such an individual has the substance and style to inspire and elevate others to a greater moral largesse. Relatively few people desire to attain the social consciousness and do the soul-making inner work that would make them transforming and transformational persons. In describ-ing them Stein says, "Their lives show an extraordinary degree of uniqueness, imagination, and pristine indi-viduality." 7 Like the prophets of old, the 12th-century German Benedictine Abbess Hildegard of Bingen and the 19th-century Irish woman Catherine McAuley were two such transforming and transformational individuals with fire in their bones. Both women were-in their early forties when they took their first steps beyond what was toward what could be. Hildegard, a medieval theologian, visionary, and church reformer, and Catherine, the foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, were both fifty-two years old when 143 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley they faced and decisively overcame obstacles to bring their visions to fruition. Both developed extraordinary skill in conflicts with church authorities, and, interest-ingly, over three hundred letters of each remain. In short, Hildegard and Catherine are dangerous memories whose legacies of duty and daring remind us of our own often untapped potential. Episodes of duty and daring in the lives of these treasured visitants from the past suggest that they can work in weary souls like oxygen on embers. 1441 Portrait of Hildegard of Bingen On the nine hundredth anniversary of Hildegard's birth in 1998, the Hildegard scholar Barbara Newman wrote: Hildegard is the only woman of her age to be accepted as an authoritative voice on Christian doctrine; the first woman who received express permission from a pope to write theological books; the only medieval woman who preached openly before mixed audiences of clergy and laity with full approval of church authority; the author of the first known morality play, and the only 12th-century playwright who is not anonymous; the only composer of her era known both by name and by a large corpus of surviving music; the first scien-tific writer to discuss sexuality and gynecology from a female perspective; and the first saint whose official biography includes a first-person memoir,s Born in the summer of 1098 in Bermersheim, Germany, Hildegard was thrust upon the stage of life at the close of one century and the dawning of the next. The role of wise women, midwives, h~alers, and coun-selors fell under new suspicions. The practice of seeing the divine in all things was eroding. It was an epoch of spiritual fervor amid the growing corruption of a Review for Religious church bent on the Crusades, which led "poor and frail" women, like Hildegard, to rise up and challenge the clergy to reform. Hildegard wrote prolifically between the ages of forty-two and eighty-one. In addition to two major works on medicine and natural science, Hildegard completed a trilogy of theological works: the multimedia illuminated manuscript for which she is most famous, Scivias (abbreviated from the Latin for Know the Lord's Ways), The Book of Life's Merits, and The Book of Divine Works. She composed seventy-seven liturgical songs and wrote them down in the Symphonia: The Symphony of the ¯ Harmony of Celestial Revelations. Fifty of her homilies are extant. The historian Gerda Lerner says, "The life of Hildegard of Bingen exemplifies the breakthrough of a female genius who managed to create an entirely new role for herself and other women without ostensi-bly violating the patriarchal confines within which she functioned.''9 Hildegard thrived at a time of political and religious tumult not vastly different from our own. "Her sheer force of will," Newman says, "combined with a dazzling array of spiritual and intellectual gifts, a courage hardened by decades of struggle, and a pro-phetic persona, which she displayed in season and out, made her a formidable opponent; and she did not take defeat easily.''~° This could equally be said of Catherine McAuley. Portrait of Catherine McAuley The life and vision of Catherine McAuley, seven [ centuries after Hildegard, provide another deep story 14~ of a woman whose spiritual and intellectual gifts, cour-age hardened by struggle, and prophetic persona made her a formidable opponent; like Hildegard, Catherine 67.2 2008 Clendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine M~uley Hildegard thrivedat a time of political and religious tumult not vastly differen~ ~om our own. did not take defeat easily. From her childhood to her middle years, she knew what it was like to be forced to the edges of her culture and to experience the prejudice of being Irish and Catholic in an age of intolerance. ~t Catherine's efforts to accomplish something lasting have their roots in the faith and courage with which she faced hardship. She reflected often upon adversity as key to her theology of the cross, the central sym-bol of Christianit~,. Over her lifetime she experienced many losses: her father's death when she was five, their fami-ly's descent into poverty, and her mother's death in 1798, when Catherine was twenty. In 1827 she buried her sister Mary, mother of five children. She cared for her sister's children and outlived some of her beloved nieces and nephews. Inheriting in 1827 the for-tune of a couple she had lived with for twenty years-- and driven by her deep faith, her sense of Christian duty, and her compassion--she built in Dublin the first House of Mercy. Her selection of a site on Baggot Street, in one of the wealthiest and most exclusive sections of Dublin, flouted the as yet unrevoked late-17th-century penal code that prohibited erecting a Catholic building on a main thoroughfare of Irish cities and towns. This proved to be the first step toward the founda-tion, in 1831, of the Sisters of Mercy, many of whom would die from the cholera and typhus that plagued Ireland in those early years. Two letters to her younger, Review for Religious most trusted colleague Frances Xavier Warde provide a window into Catherine McAuley's spirituality of the cross¯ In 1840, after the death of two young novices while a new foundation was being proposed, Catherine wrote, "I suppose all will go on well to shew us that what we think a drawback will be followed by greater progress. If they should have a new foundation--it will not be without the cross.''12 In 1841, offering words of encouragement as Sister Frances faced a challenge to her religious leadership, Catherine reflected: I know it is an affliction to you--but rest assured, God will send some. distinguished consolation¯ This is your life, joys and sorrows mingled, one succeed-ing the other. Let us not think of the means [God] has employed to convey to us a portion of the Holy Cross, being ever mindful that it came from Himself¯ ¯. Far better and more profitable for you to receive with all your heart the cross which God will send you in any form or shape He pleases. I earnestly hope you will receive this trial so as to render it valuable to you.13 Catherine's Decision for George's Hill Catherine McAuley was in her forties when she experienced a defining moment in realizing her vision. The novelty of an intentional community of lay women without religious vows and enclosure brought such neg-ative attention that "the criticism threatened to discour-age young women from joining Catherine's endeavors and thus to undermine the very stability of the works of mercy to which she was committed, including visita-tion of the sick poor in their homes and hospitals.''~4 Catherine began "a long deliberation" on how to pro-ceed. On 8 September 1830 she, Anna Marie Doyle, and Elizabeth Harley entered the Presentation Sisters' con- 147 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley vent on George's Hill to serve the canonically required novitiate year before professing religious vows on 12 December 1831 as the first Sisters of Mercy.~5 These fifteen months away from Baggot Street were a pain-ful challenge for the fifty-two-year-old Miss McAuley. She spent the time surrounded by novices more than thirty years her junior. During the last seven months of her novitiate, a very strict mistress of novices made the duties of the time quite burdensome for Catherine. A letter from Mary Clare Moore to Mary Clare Augustine Moore describes the time: Catherine "often said it was so hard a struggle for her to remain [at George's Hill] on account of meeting there many things repugnant to her feelings that had she not the establishment of the Institute most deeply at heart she would (that very e~ce-ning) have sent for a coach to take her back to Baggot Street.''~6 This is a prime example of Catherine's sense of duty reshaping her earlier inclination to dare founding an unenclosed religious congregation. One can imagine how difficult the months of enclosure and silence must have been for a mature woman of such burning vision and apostolic zeal. Centuries earlier Hildegard had a different diffi-cult experience, but one that produced similar daring results. 148] Hildegard's Self-Awakening Following the custom of noble families, Hildegard's parents tithed their tenth child, Hildegard, as a tribute to the Lord when she was eight years old. She pro-fessed her religious vows as a Benedictine nun at the age of fifteen or sixteen. During these formative years, she watched as the original 7th-century Disibodenberg site was reconstructed into a small 12th-century Review for Religious German medieval city. It is interesting to speculate that Hildegard's own desire to found an independent monastery, which she eventually did, had its roots in a mind alert to all the construction going on around her. The physical buildings may have suggested to her young imagination the idea of being a spiritual architect. An unusual child, Hildegard confided in her mentor Jutta: "When I was three years old, I saw an immense light that shook my soul; but, because of my youth, I could not externalize it.m7 This light within her soul she would eventually name the umbra viventis lucis: a spiri-tual gleam or hint of the Living Light, appearing day or night, in full consciousness, and in multicolor brilliance accompanied by a "hearing in the soul." Hildegard, fear-ful of what others would think and what sanctions might be imposed upon her, remained silent with respect to the theological content of her visionary life. This silence and its consequent physical debilitation enfolded itself in Hildegard's daily existence. In 1136, when she was elected abbess, she received a new scope of authority. It was not uncommon for the abbess to be the magis-trate over dual monasteries of both monks and nuns. The authority of medieval abbesses included leaving the enclosure and entering into council with other abbesses. The abbess held spiritual power to bless, proclaim the gospel, instruct, lead Eucharistic processions, and hear the confessions of her nuns. Such powers exercised in Hildegard's time were forbidden a century later and have never again been held by women religious, even to the present day.18 At the age of forty-three, Hildegard finally broke silence on the content of her inner visions. She was "instructed" by the Living Light "to put her hand to writing" and "release the power and mystery of hidden 149 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and DaHng in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley A~ the age of forty-three, Hildegard finally b~oke silence on the content of her inner visions~ and marvelous visions." For the next thirty-eight years, she put her talents and spiritual gifts into both writing and public speaking. An official church commission went to Disibodenberg to examine her partially completed Scivias. The examiners took their findings to the Synod of Trier, where the well-respected Bernard of Clairvaux read portions of the Scivias aloud to the assembled bishops. Bernard urged the pope "not to allow such a brilliant light to be covered by silence, but rather to confirm this charism through his authority.''19 Pope Eugenius III gave Hildegard apostolic license to continue and told her to complete her "divinely inspired" work. (When completed, the Scivias was an illuminated manuscript of twenty-six visions with theological commentary address-ing an array of Christian doctrine.) Such ecclesiastical encouragement freed Hildegard to go forward into an unprecedented future. lyO Duty and Daring Both Hildegard of Bingen and Catherine McAuley successfully negotiated life at the crossroads. Living life on life's terms presents people with challenges to choose well and manage change. Hildegard and Catherine are models of midlife women who took themselves seri-ously as gifted gospel women and resisted the temp-tation toward being insubstantial, toward settling for less instead of more. Hildegard mustered the courage Review for Religious to break from her self-imposed and culturally enforced silence. On the other hand, Catherine chose to embrace the silence of enclosure at George's Hill and the confin-ing duties of the canonically required novitiate so that her vision might find acceptance. Each in her forties possessed an inheritance. Hildegard's was an internal, visionary, prophetic giftedness, and Catherine's was the material gift of £25,000 (a million dollars in today's currency) coupled with her social vision to make a dif-ference for the poor. Their midlife transition brought them to greater vistas of generativity. The poet Rainer Maria Rilke captures this moment when he writes: I love the dark hours of my being in which my senses drop into the deep. I have found in them, as in old letters, my private life, that is already lived through, and become wide and powerful now, like legends. Then I know that there is room in me for a second huge and timeless life.2° Both Hildegard and Catherine consistendy, albeit pain-fully, found within themselves a duty and daring in the daily struggle for what mattered most. Their stories help us do the same. They are dangerous memories. Hildegard's Decision to Leave Disibodenberg Hildegard experienced a vision calling her to leave Disibodenberg and establish her own independent mon-astery. The abbot dismissed the possibility of such an undertaking. Hildegard, in a pattern that marked her life, was stricken with a severe malady. She was filled with energy when she was advancing her outer and inner work and experienced terribly depleting episodes when she was impeded in what she believed to be God's will. Eventually the abbot came to see that the paralysis that 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley turned Hildegard's body stonelike was the result of his interference with God's will. He reluctantly conceded, granting his permission for her to proceed. After her move to Rupertsberg in 1150--an excep-tional action for one who described herself as "timid and lacking boldness"--Hildegard made arrangements to acquire complete canonical and legal separation from the monks at Disibodenberg. She wanted to choose the monks who would provide spiritual care for the nuns at Rupertsberg, to keep the dowries from the families of women who joined the order, to call the free election of superiors, to hold the deed to the property, and to be accountable solely to the archbishop of Mainz. She insisted that this (secret) arrangement be put in writ-ing, and she received it from the archbishop and from Frederick Barbarossa, king and emperor of Germany. Hildegard's memory of Disibodenberg's physical recon-struction now took wings. She supervised the erection of a 12th-century monastery with indoor plumbing, a complete sewage system, and a hospice for the sick and dying. The community grew from twenty to fifty nuns. While busy with preaching tours (begun at sixty), managing affairs at Rupertsberg, giving pastoral care to her nuns and others who requested it, writing The Book of Divine Works, and maintaining an active correspon-dence amid secular and religious tumult, Hildegard, fif-teen years after founding Rupertsberg, decided to found another congregation at Eibingen. With thirty nuns she set out down the east bank of the Rhine and established it on a site overlooking Rudesheim and across the river from Bingen. Hildegard kept living at Rupertsberg but traveled twice weekly to Eibingen until her death on 17 September 1179 at the age of eighty-one. Review for Religious Catherine McAuley and the Chaplaincy Crisis The McAuley scholar Sister Mary Sullivan writes, "In the six years since its founding in Dublin on 12 December 1831, the Institute of the Sisters of Mercy had merited episcopal approval and support . But the last months of 1837 were a very painful period in Catherine's life for one specific reason: in September a deep conflict arose between her and Dr. Walter Meyler, parish priest of St. Andrew's Church, over his unwilling-ness to assign a regular chaplain to serve the sacramen-tal needs of the homeless women and girls sheltered in the House of Mercy on Baggot Street"21--a situa-tion similar to Hildegard's centuries before. Catherine thought the continuity of pastoral care very important for both the Sisters of Mercy and the residents of the House of Mercy. "By depriving the House of Mercy a chaplain," says Sullivan, "Walter Meyler had, in effect, removed the possibility of daily, and even Sunday, Mass at Baggot Street. This meant that the forty or more servant women and girls living there had to go out to a parish church on Sundays, with the consequent free-dom to dally in the city and delay their return to the House--the very shelter created to protect them from the sexual and other dangers lying in wait for them on the streets.''22 Catherine wrote to Sister Mary de Pazzi Delaney, "My dearest Sister Mary, will you relieve me from the distressing business about the chaplain? It is constantly before me, and makes me dread going home. I know it is not possible for me to have any more argument with Dr. Meyler without extreme agitation . Do get me through this--don't be afraid.''23 Catherine's cor-respondence with Dr. Andrew Fitzgerald OP notes his seven-word summation of the controversy: "a wanton 67.2 2008 Clendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine Mc~luley unwarranted abuse of church authority.''24 Catherine wrote to Michael Blake, bishop of Dromore, who sup-ported her rationale for "one individual clergyman" as chaplain to the house and encouraged her to submit her case again. In doing so (to the Rev. John Hamilton), Catherine quoted from a letter she had sent to Dr. Meyler: We were happily at home today in time for all our dif-ferent duties., but our poor young women are still about the streets, taking advantage, to be sure, of the irregularity which has been introduced among them. I will make one more effort., to prevail on the Sisters to accompany me to their Bishop . We will shew what is lost by the change that has been made . This sad alteration in our once orderly establishment cannot fail to excite pity in a mind like his. At eight o'clock on Sunday evening, a letter was handed me from Doctor Meyler. It began thus: "When is your procession to take place? I should like to see the theatrical exhibition--the Bishop must be apprised--perhaps you may not admire the reception you will meet, for he is too straight forward a person to be caught by your Juggle." I read no more and put it out of my power ever to do so by burning the letter. I must now be done with the matter entirely. I will attempt nothing more.25 In a private letter to Frances Xavier Warde in January 1838 about the situation, Catherine said, "It is humiliating no doubt, a smart attack on self-importance, and if this part of it is well managed, it must turn to good account.''26 A few months later Catherine reported to Frances, "Our Mass is celebrated very regularly every day, and the confessions pretty well attended to--but I never feel reconciled to it . Pray fervendy to God to take all bitterness from me. I can scarcely think of what has been done to me without resentment.''27 Review for Religious Crises and Character The substance and style of Hildegard's leadership in moving her community from Disibodenberg and establishing the foundation at Rupertsberg, and the per-sonal cost and art-istry of Catherine's moving through the chaplaincy cri-sis, suggest some-thing important that has a bearing on leadership that would be trans-formational. They had the capacity for liminality and pos-sessed a prophetic passion. The term liminality is taken from the Latin limen, meaning threshold. Angela Bolster RSM defines limin-ality as "all about risk., a countercultural movement on the frontier, opening up new horizons, indicat-ing new possibilities . . . fueled by a new vision of the future.''28 Those on the limen, at the edge of new fron-tiers, can live in ambiguity and perceive opportunity. Like Jeremiah, they learn to bear disquietude and use agitation and anguish as kindling for the flame of zeal. Hildegard broke silence when she could no longer hold in the content of her visions. Catherine's daring social vision took her more than once to the edge of con-frontation with church authority. Their sense of duty provoked in them an adaptability that deepened them as churchwomen and staved off the bitterness, alienation, and cynicism people feel under the weight of perceived Catherine's daring social vision took her more than once to the edge of confrontation with church authority. 67.2 2008 lendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley injustice. It is especially poignant when the injustice is meted out at the hands of the church. It is easy to imag-ine each of these liminal women pr~ying with Jeremiah 20:7-9: You have seduced me, Yahweh, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughingstock, everybody's butt. . . . The word of Yahweh has meant for me insult, derision, all day !ong. I used to say, "I will not think about him, I will not speak in his name any more." Then there seemed to be a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones. The effort to restrain it wearied me, I could not do it. Both women's large-mindedness enabled them to sus-tain the distress of the life that wanted to live in and through them and, at the same time, animate others to help them realize the possibilities they perceived were of God and worth the cost. The liminal among us often dwell at the edges of society where the anawim of God live. Transforming and transformational leaders find a home among the homeless, in fact and in faith. They bear God's pro-phetic pathos as their own. They bear the cross where they find it, whether in the medieval crusades, the Irish penal laws, or the current building of walls at U.S. bor-ders. The prophetic personality struggles and stumbles but never succumbs to despair because the umbra viven-tis lucis--the gleam of the Living Light--stirs the soul of those who artfully integrate duty with daring and daring with duty. Such transformational persons are of biblical proportions, vessels of Holy Wisdom in every generation (Ws 7:21-28). The 12th-century German Benedictine Abbess Hildegard of Bingen and the 19th-century Irish Mother Catherine McAuley are two such liminal, passionate, and prophetic women. They wit- Review for Religious ness to other courageous lives lived within the difficult confines of changing eras and changing destinies. Their dangerous memories get into the marrow of our bones. Theirs is an irreducible legacy given to us. Their names are anamnetic and, when they come among us today, they are an oasis in the midst of wilderness wandering, bearing witness to the possible future always before us, especially in times like ours. Notes ' Attributed to an insight from Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM, senior vice president, Mission and Values Integration, Catholic Healthcare Partners, Cincinnati, Ohio. 2 Walter Brueggemann, Inscribing the Text: Sermons and Prayers, ed. Anna Carter Florence (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004), p. 156. 3 Brueggemann, Inscribing, p. 157. 4 Brueggemann, Inscribing, p. 159. s Johann Baptist Metz, "The Future in the Memory of Suffering," Concilium 76 (1972), p. 15. 6 Murray Stein, Transformation (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1998), p. xxiv. 7 Stein, Transformation, pp. 146-148. 8 Barbara Newman, ed., Voice of the Living Light: Hildegard of Bingen and her World (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), p. 1. 9 Gerda Lerner, The Creation of Feminist Consciousness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 52. ,0 Hildegard of Bingen, Scivias, trans. Mother Columba Hart and Jane Bishop (New York: Paulist Press, 1990), p. 15. n See Angela Bolster RSM, Venerable Catherine McAuley: Liminalfor Mercy (Cork, Ireland: Sisters of Mercy, 1998). ,2 The Correspondence of Catherine McAuley, 1818-1841, ed. Mary C. Sullivan (Baltimore: Catholi~ University of America Press, 2004), p. 316. 13 McAuley, Correspondence, pp. 400-401. ,4McAuley, Correspondence, p. 33. ,s McAuley, Correspondence, p. 34. ,6 Mary C. Sullivan, Catherine McAuley ~nd the Tradition of Mercy [IY7 6Z2 2008 lendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine Mc~uley (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1995), p. 93. 17 Carolyn Sur, The Feminist Images of God in the Visions of Saint Hildegard ofBingen's "Scivias" (New York: Mellen Press, 1993), p. 26. ~s Margaret Wade Labarge, A Small Sound of the Trumpet: Women in Medieval Life (London: Hamish Hamilton Paperback, 1986), pp. 33, I01. ~9 Renate Craine, Hildegard: Prophet of the Cosmic Christ (New York: Crossroad, 1997), p. 26. 20 Rainer Maria Rilke, I Am Tob Alone in the World: Ten Poems, trans. Robert Bly (New York: Silver Hands Press, 1981), p. 4. 21 McAuley, Correspondence, p. 94. 22 McAuley, Correspondence, 2~ McAuley, Correspondence, 24 McAuley, Correspondence, 2s McAuley, Correspondence, 26 McAuley, Correspondence, 27 McAuley, Correspondence, see footnote 83, p. 112. pp. 96-97. p. 103. pp. 112-113. p. 119. p. 144. Time Dive Plunge into the.flow of time Ride the current moment Swirl awhile 'round bubbling eddies Bob lithely on sun glistened ripples Cascade over rapid rocky rills Float out into embracing arms of open sea Then soar aloft to clouds above And gently freefall Rain Drop in the river of time. Walter Bunofsky SVD Review for Religious JEANNE MCNULTY Weavers of God: The Warp and the Weft A nY artisan of handwoven fabric knows this: If the vertical threads (the warp) are weak and under uneven tension on the loom, no matter how the horizontal threads (the weft) are woven, the resulting cloth will be a puckered, slapdash mess. "Called to weave a new spirituality that generates hope and life for all humanity" was the theme of the plenary session of superiors general of women religious held in Rome in May 2007. The question was asked: "What thread are we religious, responsible for our con-gregations, called to weave in this moment in order to become prophetic and mystic 'weavers of God'?" Weaving has been a feminine image for centuries, and cave paintings document the existence of tapestry weaving as long ago as 3000 B.C. Handloom weaving flourished in the 1700s. Nowadays a few of us, mosdy women, but some men too, still send shuttles flying Jean McNulty SFO, OCV, a secular Franciscan and a consecrated virgin (see canon 604), wrote for us in 1997; she lives a semi-eremidc life. claire@wvadventures.net 67.2 2008 McNulty ¯ Weavers of God across warps and are delighted to see new designs pop up on the fabric or web before our eyes. Those who have persevered in the art can draw many analogies between our craft and the loom of our spiritual life. Everyone's vocation or lifestyle needs some structure. Without a plan, purpose, or focus, days and years may be frittered away. On a loom the "castle" is the outer encasement. Within the castle there are "harnesses," usually between two to eight of them. These are frame-like rectangles that hold the "heddles." The heddles are slender metal rods each containing a needle eye in the center. These are threaded in various sequences according to a pur-posed design. Below the heddles and harnesses, close to the floor, are the "treadles," which are attached to the harnesses in a specific arrangement. When the treadles are pedaled or tromped, the harnesses are raised and the "shuttle" (a little boat-like device that holds the bob-bin with the weft thread) flies over and under the warp threads. The interlacing threads form the pattern that begins appearing on the newly created fabric. Almost an infinity of designs can'be produced, and a great mul-tiplicity of shades and hues are made manifest as the various colored threads cross over and under each other on the web. Many designs were developed by those who have gone on before us. Others are waiting to be dis-covered. The threads on the loom can be compared to all the people that cross our paths in life and help us to become the persons we are. This interlacing of our lives with theirs helps develop the finished pattern on the web of life. On the loom there is a front and back beam. In the weaving that I do, the vertical threads are initially tied Review for Religious to the back beam, the farthest away from the weaver, and then threaded through the heddles toward the front of the loom and then through the "beater." This is a long rectangular device containing a reed with short thin metal rods. It can be expanded at least to the width of the warp. The reed keeps the threads from getting tan-gled .and also helps create the density of the fabric. The beater "beats" the weft threads into an even line across the warp, which is tied on to the front of the loom. The aim is to get all the warp threads through the castle and then though the reeds in the right sequence and then tied with even tension to the front cloth beam. This takes time and patience, and it does no good to try and expedite the process. An experi-enced weaver knows not to hurry because, if a thread is put through the heddles or beater in the wrong sequence, the whole pattern or design is flawed. It often means going back to square one with the threading. So it is better to do it right the first time and save hours of unnecessary labor. An analogy to the spiritual life is easy to see. Just as buildings need a firm foun-dation, so a weaver of a tapestry (or of the fabric of her life) should humbly spend the time and energy to thread her loom with order and precision. She should begin by looking to the future with humble and atten-tive prayer. Occasionally, despite very careful planning and execution, a warp thread will break in the middle of a weaving project. It will take a special knot with a piece of new thread in even tension with the others to fix it. experienced weaver knows not to hurry. 161 67.2 2008 McNulty ¯ Weavers of God This requires added time and effort, as it does in the spiritual realm when our sins and flaws require repen-tance, confession, forgiveness, fixing--the knot and thread renewing togetherness and integrity. In the repertoire of weaving designs, there are warp-faced patterns and weft-faced ones. This means that, in any piece of cloth, what meets the eye is either the pattern of the weft threads or the pattern of the warp. In traditional Navajo weaving, for example, the weft completely covers and hides the warp. It is considered a real flaw for a warp thread to be seen, and so the weft is always beaten tighdy into place. The contemplative life can easily be compared to the warp in Navaio weaving. It is so totally obscure. It is, however, the framework for the entire fabric. The warp threads have to be very strong to take the intense beat-ing and packing of the weft threads that will show on the sur- The contemplative life face. Strenuous active lives and ministries can easily be compared to can beat people down the warp in Navajo weaving, in their endeavors to make the world bet-ter. These endeavors, these activities, are what people see and value, but, if they are not sup-ported by the strong threads of contemplative union with God, they will not produce the desired beautiful patterns. Pope Benedict encouraged religious to "weave 62 the living fabric of a useful service to the church., yet always maintaining solid interior relations with Christ. In fact, only from this union with God can that 'pro-phetic' role of your mission flow and be nourished." Review for Religious He added: "Never yield, therefore, to the temptation to distance yourself from intimacy with your Heavenly Spouse by allowing yourselves to be overly attracted by the interests and problems of daily life." Our Holy Father encouraged religious to cultivate the mystical dimension of consecrated life, keeping united to God through contemplation. He said: "The authentic prophet, therefore, is not concerned so much to accomplish works, which undoubtedly are important but never essential. Above all, he tries to be a witness of God's love, seeking to live it among the realities of the world, even if his presence can sometimes be 'uncom-fortable' because he offers and incarnates alternative values." !n creating a piece of material on the loom, once the warp threads are threaded through the heddles and tied on to the back warp beam and the front cloth beam, and once the weaving has commenced, the warp threads can-not be changed without dismantling. It is different with the weft threads. In the active life we can change our occupations, put different yarns and a different picture on the loom of our existence, but always underneath there has to be the contemplative warp to hold things together. What is essential is our vertical and horizontal union with Jesus. If the love relationship is there and he decides to change the design, it can hurt, but it is not devastating because the contemplative warp is strong. There are times in life when the weft patterns seem to coalesce. Everything works out well, and we have a lot of good "yardage" to show, but then can come years when no matter what we do all seems insignificant. The Lord appears to be asleep in the boat, our litde shuttle, and we feel tossed about in darkness. In the obscurity of the night, we become mystic weavers who feel at odds 67.2 2008 McNulty .,Weavers of God with the surface of our life. We cannot see what is going on, but we hope and trust that something special and beautiful is happening in the context of our life. When I have thrown the shuttle for the last time on a long-woven piece of cloth, the moment has arrived to see the web completely finished. I take the scissors and cut each warp thread. I draw the material forward and fan-fold it on the bench in front of me. A passage from the Book of Isaiah comes to mind: "You have folded up my life, like a weaver who severs the last thread" (Is 38:12). We know this moment will arrive, the one when the Master Weaver severs our web from the loom of our earthly life and surveys the finished product. Then we hope that he will delight in the display of designs and intertwining coloi's. In this moment all of us are unique and original. No other person will have the same patterns, the same gifts to display in the king-dom of our God and before our sisters and brothers. Hopefully, our lives will have been prophetic examples of the gospel message, and we too will hear the words the Father spoke over Jesus at the river Jordan: "You are my beloved child. On you my favor rests" (Mk 1:11). Review for Religious DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment Getting to know people is a process. It can be long and complicated, involving several phases that result in increasing knowledge of them. Yet the process can hardly begin effec-tively unless we are prepared to discover who the individual persons are and do not approach them merely in terms of what we think or what others say about them. To be sure, what we think or what others say is important and should not be ignored, but this is not enough if our concern is to know them personally and intimately. For this we need a firsthand experi-ence that gives them the opportunity to reveal themselves to us. Consider what happens when we meet peo-ple. It takes only a while before they begin to Damian C. Ilodigwe wrote on the Magnificat in our 66.3 (2007) issue. He is a priest and lecturer in philoso-phy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171; Secretariat P.O.; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks2000@ yahoo.tom being disciples 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment 166 reveal themselves to us in various ways. If we really want to get to know them, such rrioments are precious. We pause and listen to what they have to say. By so doing we might begin to penetrate the mystery that underlies their personality. Such attention involves a certain pas-sivity in the face of their self-disclosure. Indeed, this moment of self-disclosure must guide our subsequent effort to learn who they really are. The process would be skewed if we imposed some prejudice of ours on them before they had the benefit of self-disclosure. Difficult and complex though it is to get to know other people, the reward can be great even after only a little success, and the success is bound to grow the more we try. We become more comfortable in their presence, and with this at-homeness we are able to trust them and perhaps even depend on them. We grow in our appreciation of their worth, and this leads to a much better relationship. Before we realize it, the friendship becomes intimate and personal. We need such a friend-ship with Jesus. Peter's Significant Breakthrough Like all who are called to be Jesus' disciples, the apostles had to get to know Jesus. They were specially chosen by him and destined to play an important role in his mission, but that does not mean it was easy for them to get to know him. Having been with him for some time and having seen the deep impression he made on people, they held him in high esteem. They knew how much people appreciated his words and presence. They were familiar with what people thought about him (see Mk 8:27-29). Yet this did not mean they really knew him. Their knowledge of him, like that of people he healed, was at best superficial. They knew he was the Reviem for Religious son of Joseph and Mary, but it is not evident that they penetrated the mystery of his divine personality (see Jn 5:1-18). If they were to be his ambassadors, it was crucial that their knowledge of him was not superficial, limited to a few details of his parents, his hometown, and so forth. It was impor tant that they knew and understood him for who he really is. Their coming to know him was a long process indeed, which was not over until, after his resur-rection, they received the Holy Spirit (see Lk 24:13-35). Nonetheless, the event at Caesarea Philippi offered a preliminary advancement of their knowledge of Jesus. Jesus brought up for discussion the topic of his identity (Mk 8:27-38, Mt 16:13-20). It was almost like any con-versation in which we seek feedback from others about a particular issue. He began by asking them who people said he was. That was not a difficult question, for the disciples only needed to be steeped in current affairs to answer it, and they were not wanting in this regard. They mentioned the various perspectives that people had: "John the Baptist; and others say, Elijah; and others, one of the prophets." The answer touched the reality of Jesus' per-sonality, but still was superficial. Jesus did not evaluate their answer; he simply asked another question, a more personal one: "But you, who do you say I am?" This sort of question upsets people. It certainly upset them. It took them from the nonpersonal to the personal. It Jesus brought up for discussion the topic of his identity. 167 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment had implications regarding their allegiance and commit-ment. The burden of responsibility became enormous. In such circumstances we usually censor what we say. We say only what we mean to say and what we have evidence for. We can imagine the disciples considering their words carefully. Indeed, it would not be surprising to discover that there was a long silence before an answer came. As usual, it was Peter who took the lead, saying: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." We can almost imagine that Jesus was surprised, a pleasant surprise, for Jesus' true identity was and is always a kind of secret. People focused (and still do) on accidents of Jesus' birth and circumstances, as happened when he preached in Capernaum (Lk 4:16-28). Focusing on these things, they missed (and still do) the essen-tial Jesus. Peter, however, was absolutely correct. But how did this happen? What emerges is that Peter had been assisted. It was not as a result of any merely human agency that he was able to enter the mystery of Jesus' personality. As Jesus put it, "it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven." We can recall here Jesus' words that no one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and those to whom he reveals him (Lk 10:22). So it was not through Peter's human effort that he discovered this truth. It was through the Holy Spirit, of whom Paul was to affirm that "no one can say Jesus is Lord except in the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 12:3). It was the Holy Spirit that spoke in him. This was revelation, not merely natural knowledge. Not only was Jesus satisfied with Peter's answer, call-ing him a happy man, but he moved quickly to reward him: "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold Review for Religious out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven." The enormousness of this reward is breathtaking, but the content is also rel-evant to the future of Jesus' mission (see Jn 21:15-19). That declaration of Jesus' identity revealed imme-diately Peter's deep configuration to Jesus to the extent that he had the seal of the Holy Spirit upon him. Peter's reward can be understood only in the context of this deep configuration. And the logic of this is relevant to us as well, in our relationship with God and with one another. In penetrating the truth of the divine personality of Jesus, Peter moved from a somewhat superficial relation-ship to an intimate personal one. If we understand Jesus in the depth of his divine and human reality, this knowl-edge is utterly transforming, and with transformation comes the burden of commitment and responsibility. To know people at an intimate level is to become committed to them. When we recognize that our rela-tionship has reached this deeper level, we are more pre-pared to take them into our confidence and relate with them still more intimately.| I suppose we are familiar with this situation. When we consider it briefly, we real-ize that it fits well the new phase in the relationship between Jesus and his disciples. With Peter's confession, the disciples were no lon-ger outsiders. They were brought inside and enabled by God's grace to perceive what others longed to per-ceive but could not perceive. The veil was lifted, and they were privileged to perceive the Lord of all creation in his true identity. Now their knowledge of him went far deeper than what people were saying. It involved 67.2 2008 Ilodig'we ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment something intensely personal, something that commit-ted them to him irrevocably. It did not, however, mean they had mastered everything about this mystery.2 In their very grasp of the mystery, something remained mysterious. They were ever in need of divine assistance to relate with him at this profound level. Toknow Jesus in his divine reality is a transforming experience, and it is our portion as Christians to attain such knowledge: 170 Peter's Confession and Our Contemporary Situation Like Peter and the other apostles, we too need to get to know Jesus better. Indeed, we can regard our journey of faith as getting to know Jesus and experienc-ing the power of his presence in our life (see Ph 1:12- 30). Also, like Peter, we need divine assistance to enter the profound reality of Jesus' divine personal-ity-- beyond a minimal grasp of what the church teaches in the creed. We need that, of course, and we need to integrate it into our faith journey. To know Jesus in his divine reality is a transforming experience, and it is our portion as Christians to attain such knowledge. The deeper our knowledge, the more we see that Jesus is our companion on our journey through life (Col 3:1-17). We see that he cares and that his presence makes all the difference in our life. We see the goodness of committing ourselves to Jesus. Living in accordance with our deeper knowledge of Jesus and our commitment brings us more and more into the divine realm. To confess Jesus as a good man Review for Religious or even a great prophet is not enough. It is to miss the whole point of his mission and our relationship with him. In the face of the artificiality and superficiality of our world, there is a need for us to encounter the full reality of Jesus, not mere extrinsic details. We must not live as if our faith were separate from our lives. Peter's confession of Jesus as the Son of the living God should make us step back and examine our own relationship with Jesus. How deep does my relationship with Jesus go? Is my relationship with him personal, or is it superficial, based on mere secondhand knowledge? God created us to know him, love him, and serve him.3 Knowledge is the gateway of love. The more we get to know Jesus and his love for us, the more we are able to love him in return and commit ourselves to him. All this may seem a tall order. It is a challenge. But it is not impossible to attain, with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, our advocate and teacher. The Holy Spirit, the spirit of truth, knows the depth of every reality, including God (see Jn 16:5-15). If we listen, the Holy Spirit will lead us deeper into the truth of Jesus. He will help us integrate this truth into our faith journey. We turn, then, to the Spirit and ask that our eyes be opened that we may see, our minds opened that we may understand, and our hearts so inflamed with divine love that our lives may be more and more conformed to the life of Christ. Notes 1 See Joseph Ratzinger, Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus .of Nazareth (London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2007), pp. 335-341. 2 See Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership (Bandra, Mumbai: Society of St. Paul, 1999), pp. 29-32. 3 See the Catechism of the Catholic Church (Dublin: Veritas, 1994), §§356-361. 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe * Disdplesbip, Faith, and Commitment Personal and Group Reflection 1. How would I describe the process of getting to know another person? Do I find that this process is the one I use in getting to know Jesus? 2. In this article, I look at Peter in his coming to a deeper relationship with Jesus. Who else have been models for me in my own being able to grow as a friend of Jesus? 3. Have biblical studies been helpful or not in my coming to know Jesus? What part does prayer play in my growth? 172) Mary, at the Hour of Her Death "And not an easy dying," said her sister Mary the wife of Clopas, smoothing back Her own gray hair from a forehead marked With midnight watching; "but for all her Pain and the Weight of memories she and I Have shared, she went from us smiling." The ritual prayers she knew are said again; Lovingly, th.ey cover her. And while the women Of the cross go to buy the spices and prepare As once before burial, the Overshadowing Presence that she knew visits where she lies; When they return: Mary is not there. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious PETER SCHINELLER Seeing with the Eyes of Christ A bold statement! How can we claim to see with the eyes of Christ? We are weak, sinners. We live in a different time and place, two thousand years after Jesus Christ. Yet this is what Pope Benedict says in his encyclical "God Is Love." About loving our neigh-bor, he writes: "Seeing with the eyes of Christ, I can give to others much more than their outward necessi-ties; I can give them the look of love which they crave" (§18). Following the Holy Father's lead, we might try to understand and retrieve this part of our Christian tradition. Where is Jesus? We often speak of the presence of Jesus Christ in our midst, especially in other persons. A key text that points to that presence is Matthew 25: "I was hungry and you fed me, naked and you clothed me." When we reach out to others in compassion and love, it is Christ we are touching. Mother Teresa saw this clearly: "Every person is Christ for me, and since173 Peter Schineller SJ writes from America House; 106 West 56 Street; New York, N.Y. 10019. 67.2 200g Schineller * Seeing with.the Eyes of Christ Saints live and model the Christ-life in their own day and agei there is only one Jesus, that person is the only one per-son in the world for me at that moment." We often hear that the goal of the spiritual life is union with Jesus Christ. He is the way, the truth, and the life. We join our lives to Jesus through word and sacrament, through prayer and action. We move to the Father Jind to his kingdom as followers of Jesus Christ. But is there another even more intimate way to speak of our relationship and union with Jesus? Is there a way that lessens the separation or dis-tance between us and Jesus, so that we begin to feel and say with St. Paul, "I live, now not I; but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20)? Can we not dare to say, as Pope Benedict does, that we are "see-ing with the eyes ofChrist"? Can we be bold and daring enough to say that we are to put on the heart and mind of Christ? That we reach out with the hands of Christ? Are these words true, or are they mythical, oversimplified piety? There is a story about a statue of Christ in a church. It was wartime, and the church was bombed. The statue stood, but the arms of Christ, reaching out, were broken off. Rather than remove or replace the damaged statue, someone put a note on it: "He has no hands but ours." Is this just a pious tale, or does it express a deep insight into the Christian life? Christian Tradition Speaks This Way St. Paul certainly saw his own life and the Christian life as intimately joined with Jesus Christ. We live Review for Religious and die with Christ, in him, through him. The Pauline writings use these and similar prepositions about 165 times to describe our relationship with Jesus Christ. Paul explains that we are slowly, gradually being trans-formed into the likeness of Christ (1 Co 3:18). Writing to the Christians at Philippi, he urges them to put on the attitude or mind of Christ: "Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5). All of our thoughts are to be "captive in obedience to Christ" (2 Co 10:5). With even greater boldness he says, "We have the mind of Christ" (1 Co 2:16). The Christian, through the power and reality of grace, grad-ually assumes the shape, the form of Jesus Christ. Saints live and model the Christ-life in their own day and age. We find a strong expression of how we put on Christ in a few words of St. John Eudes. He writes of the Christian's relationship to Jesus: He belongs to you as the head belongs to its mem-bers; all that is his is yours: his spirit, his heart, his body and soul, and all his faculties. You must make use of all these as your own, to serve, praise, love, and glorify God. You belong to him, as members belong to their head. And so he longs for you to use all that is in you, as if it were his own, for the service and glory of the Father. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, § 1698) How This Might Apply to Us The phrase "imitation of Christ" is a hallowed one in the history of Christian spirituality. It often refers to the classic book of Thomas h Kempis. What might it mean in light of what we have outlined above? Can we see our lives not simply as an imitation of Jesus Christ who is out there, over against us, but as one with us, cooperating with us, working in us in every good deed 67.2 2008 Scbineller ¯ Seeing with the Eyes of Christ that we perform? Can we see, think, act, with the eyes, mind, hands of Christ? Can this become a way of envi-sioning our lives? Here are a few examples. The eyes of Christ and our eyes. Jesus observed and learned lessons from the birds of the air, the lilies of the field. Jesus observed, and pointed out to the disciples, the great generosity of the widow who with her two coins put in more than all the rich men. Jesus saw with eyes of compassion the needs of the sick and the blind. Are we open to seeing the needs of others, and to seeing as Jesus saw? Or do we have a beam in our own eye and so fail to see the good in others, fail to see the needs of others, with the eyes of Christ? The mind of Christ and our mind. Jesus was one with his Father. His Father's thoughts of truth and peace-- were in the mind of Christ. Jesus emptied himself and thought of the good of others. Do we let Jesus enter into our minds and reshape our attitudes, our way of thinking? Do the needs of others have more weight than our own needs and desires? Does the truth prevail in our words and our conduct, or do we compromise and bargain with the truth? The heart of Christ and our heart. Christ says, "Come to me, all who labor and are burdened. I will give you rest." His heart went out in compassion for the crowd, hungry for food and for the word of life. His heart went out to the lepers. His heart was pierced on the cross, so much did he love us. He wants to transform our hearts into his own. From hearts that can be cold and insensitive, isolated and stubborn, he wants our hearts to become warm like his own, overflowing with love for his Father and for all God's children. The hands of Christ and our hands. As a youth Jesus assisted in the carpenter shop in Nazareth. In his min- Review for Religious istry Jesus reached out with a healing hand, a hand of friendship and blessing. Children came to receive his welcome and blessing. His hands shared food with his disciples and with the crowds. With his hands he washed the feet of Peter and the other apostles. Do we extend a clenched fist or the open hand of friendship? Do we let Christ work through our hands as we go about our daily tasks in the home, the workplace, the market? Do we see ourselves as instruments of his work, his care and concern? The feet of Christ and our feet. Jesus went about doing good. He continued steadfastly on the journey to Jerusalem, knowing that it would lead to suffering and death. He carried the cross to the hill of Calvary. In our walking and travels, are we instruments for the spread of the gospel and for works of charity? The ears of Christ and our ears. We sing with the Psalmist that "the Lord hears the cry of the poor." Jesus heard the blind cry out for help, the cry of the Syro- Phoenician woman for assistance for her child. Do we fill our ears with unnecessary noise and entertainment so that we have little time to hear the call of the child, the friend, anyone in need? The words of Christ and our words. Jesus spoke words of love and words of power. He spoke with authority. His words often evoked faithful, beautiful responses such as Peter's words "Depart from me, Lord, I am a sinful man." Jesus' words gathered apostles and follow-ers, and captivated the crowds. Do our words echo the words of Christ, so that Christ can.be said to be speak-ing in and through us? Do others hear the words of the gospel, good news, in our conversation? The prayer of Jesus and our prayer. Jesus prayed before major decisions such as calling the apostles. He prayed I177 67.2 2008 Sebineller * Seeing witb the Eyes of Cbrist _178] for Peter that his faith might not falter. Jesus called God "Father" and invites us to do the same. As we pray the Lord's Prayer, do we realize that it is Jesus praying in and with and through us? He prayed for forgiveness even for those who crucified him. Do we let the Spirit of Jesus, dwelling in our hearts, cry out, "Abba, Father"? Do we let Jesus pray in and through us for the needs of our world and our family and friends? The will of Christ and our will. Jesus came to do the Father's will. "Not my will, but yours be done." He became obedient even unto death, death on a cross. Do we let God direct our will, or do we resist handing over our will to the divine will? Are our choices in line with the way and the words of Jesus, letting his Spirit be the power, impetus, and guide for our choices? Prayers That Reflect This Vision Four prayers of the Christian tradition reinforce the thrust of this reflection. The first is the familiar prayer of St. Patrick on the presence of Christ, how it sur-rounds and fills us. Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise, Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me. A second prayer is from the Book of Hours, of 1514: God be in my head, and my understanding; God be in my eyes, and in my looking; God be in my mouth, and in my speaking; Review for Religious God be in my heart, and in my thinking; God be at my end, and at my departing. The third prayer comes from St. Ignatius Loyola. At the end of the Spiritual Exercises, we hand over ourselves completely to the Lord, to his transforming power, for him to do with us as he wills and as he thinks best: Take, Lord, receive, all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my will. All that I have and pos-sess. You have given all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. All is yours. Do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me. The fourth prayer, more contemporary, the Grail Prayer, is an excellent prayer for Christians as they go about their daily responsibilities: Lord Jesus, I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my spirit that you may pray in me. Above all, I give you my heart that you may love in me your Father and all humankind. I give you my whole self that you may grow in me, so that it is you, Lord Jesus, who live and work and pray in me. hands to do your work. feet to go your way. eyes to see as you do. tongue to speak your words. mind that you may think in me. One way to begin to live this seeing, thinking, and walking with the eyes, mind, and feet of Jesus is by making it part of our daily examen. Rather than exclusively focus on our sins and failings, or our dominant feelings or emotions, we might focus on how we have or have not spoken, lis-tened, and acted like Jesus. With this Christocentric per-spective, we reflect on how Jesus Christ, and the Spirit of Jesus Christ, lives in and through us. 67.2 2008 Scbineller ¯ Seeing witb tbe Eyes of Christ Jesus Christ was born 2000 years ago in Bethlehem. He will come again at the end of time. He comes now in word and sacrament, and he wishes to be born again in us. He wishes to reshape, reform, and transform our bodies into his own. He wants to speak his words of love through us, and to reach out in compassion to the needy through our arms. The poet Hopkins captures this vision in his "kingfishers catch fire" poem: Christ - for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his, To the Father through the features of men's faces. 180 Mourning "I'm so sorry for your loss," I said, or I think I said that, And held out my hand to a black glove that shook, then grasped hard and held on As if my outstretched palm held gold, gold for the going, For going home tonight and leaving him there cold, alone and lonely. No, he is no longer lonely or in pain, or alone - She is. Suzanne Mayer IHM Review for Religious JOHN J. FISHER The Celibate Aunt or Uncle: Another Blessed Vocation Byrother Joe and I worked together for thirteen ears at the Catholic high school that our religious order owns and administers. Beyond our shared ministry and living in community together, we did not have much in common. As facilities manager, he was concerned with heating, ventilating, and air conditioning (HVAC) issues and requests for proposals (RFPs) to read. As a (eacher and administrator, I was concerned with Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT) scores and collegial observations to write. He loved Broadway music while I played rock and roll. He would go out for a bike ride while I went out for a run. The special thing about which we agreed was that there is no greater vocation than being a celibate uncle. With excitement we exchanged stories about fam-ily get-togethers, our nephews' and nieces' accomplish-ments, and their latest activities and e~iploits. We could John J. Fisher OSFS has worked for twenty years in secondary and now college education. His address is De Sales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Val!ey, Pennsylvania 18034. Email: john. fisher@desales.edu 181 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle Prayer is a special, gift we religious priests, brothers, and sisters offer to our nephews and nieces. 182 visit their homes, have tremendous fun with them, spoil them, sugar them up, hold the babies once changed, and then leave. We would brag about their strengths and minimize their growing pains. All of our friends heard many family stories. We knew that our nieces and neph-ews were a special grace toward living our religious life well. Let me share an anecdote. "To listen to your messages, press one; to get mes-sages, press two. 'Hey, Uncle John, this is Danny. Just calling to ask if you can pray for DJ, one of our basket-ball players at Central Catholic. He got in a car acci-dent driving home from the school dance. He must have fallen asleep and drove off into a ditch. The police didn't find him till the next morning. He's in a coma. Please pray for him. Okay? Love you.'" As Danny was only in fifth grade when he left this mes-sage, it tells me three things. First, Danny already has his sights set on playing basketball at the high school level. He even speaks as if he is already part of the team, telling me "we lost a close one last night." Second, not only does Danny believe in the power of prayer, but he is other-centered, especially if the other is a star athlete. Third, Danny looks to his celibate uncle as one to whom he can go for prayers of intercession. Danny is now in sixth grade, DJ is recovering nicely, and I am still blessed with the privilege of praying for the intentions of my siblings and their greatest gift to me: their sons and daughters. Review for Religious Prayer is a special gift we religious priests, brothers, and sisters offer to our nephews and nieces. Because of our vocation and its implicit commitment to individual and communal prayer, we become the obvious "go-to" people to pray for people's petitions. We are asked to pray for this nephew's intention, this niece's special favor,~ or that of someone we do not even know but who is dear to our loved ones. They believe not only in the power of prayer, but very specially in our including them and their intentions in ours. Our fidelity to prayer in our state in life frees us to do just that. Several years ago I was challenged by a classmate to include my family, naming each one individually, in the intercessory part of my prayer life. Daily, morn-ing and evening, I conclude the intercessory portion of my prayer by naming all my siblings and their children from oldest to youngest. I include the intentions I know abouh ones specially asked for and unvoiced ones I sense are needed. In a generic way, I pray through the inter-cession of our parents (the young people's grandparents) that all within the family may be safe, protected from harm, happy, healthy, faithful to parents' and grand-parents' good example, and open to the presence and blessing of the Lord. Depending on the situation, I add specific intentions, from guidance in choosing a college to success in a master's program. Including them daily in prayer brings to mind the gift they are as individuals and our special relationship with each other. It is also a daily reminder of the tremendous gift of prayer and the need to specially cultivate this treasure. In addition to prayer, there are other aspects of the spiritual place we have in our relatives' lives. We are always invited to receptions of a new sacrament, the yearly school Christmas plays, and every gradua- 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle tion. Our relatives expect something spiritual from us, whether it is a holy card or a blessing on their fore-heads. Our small monetary gifts are always appreci-ated in a unique way, for they know we do not have the wherewithal that other aunts and uncles may have. It is often the celibate aunt or uncle that remembers all the birthdays of nephews and nieces. They count on us for the yearly birthday card, perhaps one at Halloween, and a small gift at Christmas. They call on us for that spe-cial "religion project" or an answer to some theological question. Of course, this can be a mixed blessing. When we do not know offhand who was the mother of Ruth or the pope of frequent communion, they call into ques-tion how we got ordained or what kind of a religious we are. We are, though, privileged to baptize them, to give them their first Eucharist, to witness their exchange of marriage vows or to read at their wedding. We hear of them explaining our way of life to their friends with a sense of special pride, bragging in their own way. Many of them call us weekly to "check in," affording us the opportunity to affirm and to express our ongoing love for them. We are their personal cheerleaders in each and every adventure, whether it is a passing fad or a passion that perdures. They expect us to say that they played well regardless. They understand that we have a right to be biased in thinking they were the best on the stage, on the court, or on the playing field. Every picture they paint is a Rembrandt, and every musical composition borders on something worthy of Carnegie Hall. Our nephews and nieces give us joy and hope. We are privileged to share their lives and stories in a way that maybe their other aunts and uncles cannot, because they are necessarily attentive to their own children's Review for Religious journeys. With no children of our own, we have the freedom to be the special aunt or uncle. They all become ours in a special way, collectively and individually. In a special bond of trust, we may be privy to hear-ing something that their own parents do not yet know (one getting stopped by the police for driving over the speed limit or a niece protecting a nephew from getting into trouble). Such discreet listening is usually not seri-ous, and things turn out well. We serve as a compassionate ear when they are not ready to go to their parents. They come to us for hope, under-standing, and accep-tance. They know clearly that we would never withhold something their parents need to know, but we can still listen to them as they tell us that their parents do not understand or are being unreasonable. They hope that we may serve as the voice of reason interceding for them to have a cell phone, be allowed to drive to school, or stay out just a little longer. We may be able to reach them simply because we are not their parents. We can be their sounding board, and we can help them realize how deeply their parents love and care for them, sensitizing them to the delicate vocation of parenting. All of this allows us to bring, with pride and vital-ity, this great sense of family into our homilies or our classes. In understanding them, their accomplishments, and their gradual maturation, we are able to relate to parents to whom we preach or whose children we teach. We may be able to r each them simply because we are not' their parents. 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle Our love manifests itself in our being compassionate and gentle with those whom we serve and who in various ¯ ways are similar to our nephews and nieces. It lets us see that there is no vocation more difficult, more precious, and more needed than parenting. Invited into the homes and lives of our siblings, we get a real sense of what it means to parent and to grow up in this changing world as a child, teenager, or young adult. In sharing these sto-ries, our preaching and teaching become real, vital, chal-lenging, and spirit filled. We can offer a strong sense of faith because we have received it from these relatives of ours. Our siblings' fidelity to their spouses and children exhorts us to a renewed commitment to be poor, chaste, and obedient for our own sakes and for the world. The relationship afforded us as aunts and uncles reminds us that we were born into a natural family before entering our religious family. We journey like everyone else as we see our loved ones struggling in school, working tirelessly to afford tuition, striving to stay sober, searching for employment, or hoping to find that special soul mate. We prayerfully accompany their growing pains, seeing the cycle in one after another. We serve as one who, standing off in the distance, perceives the special quality in each of them and then helps them appreciate their own unique spark of the divine. With everyone we have different relationships that change and grow over the years. With each of several families, we may experience different traditions, habits, and customs. But we highlight for all of them a larger sense of family, a broad sense of gift, and the God who is the giver of all. We can also share with family our religious lives and what we have to offer from our own ministry. We can offer a sense of hope to siblings who are so closely con-nected to their children that they cannot see beyond an Review for Religious attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), a poor self-image, a lack of responsibility, an inability to make this team or star in that role. We can remind them that their children's growing edges are no different from other children's, and we can offer the assurance that "things take time" and "this, too, shall pass." We may downplay the seriousness they see as concerned parents, knowing ourselves the greater severity of some other peo-ple's worries. With the passing of years, - we can reflect back to our nephews and nieces and their parents the fine growth and maturing we have observed. At the same time, we may be disconcerted that they grow up so quickly. We take another look at ourselves, our mortality, the fragility of our life, and may wonder what lessons we will have handed down to them. Additionally, we share our religious family, its mem-bers, and its charism with our relatives. We occasionally invite our natural family into the intimacy of our reli-gious family, where a mutual enrichment is enjoyed that enhances each family. We enjoy hearing our nephews and nieces call our fellow religious by their first names (Bob, Jack, Mary, Pat), showing the close bond they share instead of using titles like Father, Sister, Brother. They become extended members of our various reli-gious orders, championing our cause and ministry, even becoming our cheerleaders, bragging about our spirit, charism, and apostolates. Later in life, they invite us into their newly formed families and homes. They come We can also share with family our religious lives and what we have to offer from our own ministry. 187 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle 188 to visit, take us to dinner, invite us on their vacations, and support us as benefactors. These sentiments and relationships may not always be the lived situation. For some religious, they might not be real or feel real. Perhaps we find ourselves at odds with members of our family. We religious are like people everywhere. Though wonderfully redeemed, we are keenly aware of our flaws and sinfulness, and our fellow religious remind us of them. This is a blessing of living the communal life. But, sadly, we may find our-selves estranged from members o~ one or both of our two families. If so, a question needs to be asked: Is there anything so devastating that prayer, grace, and the pres-ence of God cannot heal? Of course, we cannot make up for lost time direcdy. Our nephews and nieces only have one "first communion," special recital, or game-winning three pointer. But, still, let us work at being gende and loving toward members of our families. Let us be vul-nerable to their forgiveness or compassion so that their grace and spirit may enrich our lives and ministries. They have much to teach us about being pastoral. Our nephews and nieces have trust in us. They value our vocation as religious and the graced role we serve as their special aunts and uncles dedicated to God's wider family. They can inspire us to a tremendous sense of fidelity. They need us to be women and men of integ-rity, faithful to our calling and our ministry. When it becomes difficult to be faithful, when it feels desirable to be anything but poor, chaste, and obedient, who we are to them and for them can serve as our motive to be the religious we vowed to be in the presence of God, the church, and that family of ours. We must not dis-appoint them. Being a celibate aunt or uncle is more than another hat, another role, another relationship. It Review for Religious is a phenomenal blessing like few others that breathes meaning into who we are--and how we are that uncle or aunt for all of God's people. Brother Joe and I no longer live in the same local community. When we gather for a communal celebra-tion, we keep each other abreast not just of our doings, but rather of our lives as uncles, our blessing as uncles, and all the joy that our nephews and nieces bring to us. Personal and Group Reflection 1. How has this article stimulated me to reflect on my vocation choice as I relate to the younger members of my family? 2. Acknowledging the tensions that arise in family relationships, can I reflect on some success stories in handling a difficult time? Invitation to Prayer The lake reflects a mirror calm, scents of wildflowers fill the air, a lone deer at the water's edge stares into the depths of heaven. Evergreens frame the tranquil scene, fir and pine in a regal pose, anticipating the coming of the finch and wren and sparrow. It is a time to approach God, to savor his creations, to let him penetrate the soul, raise the spirit, possess the heart. Neil C. Fitzgerald 67.2 2008 DAVID L. FLEMING gnatian exercising What Is a "First Week Retreat"? The Ignatian retreat of a few days to a week has commonly been called a "First Week" retreat. Ignatius himself described an adapta-tion of the full four-week Exercises with the phrase "giving the First Week exercises." The assumed focus has traditionally been on "sin" as outlined by Ignatius in the five explicit "exercises" of the First Week. In the tradition it has been acknowledged that Ignatius allows for some instruction on prayer as described at the end of the Exercises and on the various examens that are briefly explained at the beginning of the First Week. In this brief study, however, I want to focus on the prayer exercises, not on the instructions the retreat director may give. :190 ] David L. Fleming SJ is nearing twenty years as this jour-nal's editor. He first published the following article in the Indian journal Ignis, volume 37, number 3. Review for Religious Despite the practice known as "traditional," espe-cially with the retreats preached in the 19th- and 20th-century retreat houses, I question whether Ignatius intends a closely literal interpretation of the First Week. Does Ignatius intend to restrict the prayer material for those making a shorter retreat to meditation only on sin? Do we not need rather to take into consideration the dynamic of the First Week in order to understand how to structure and adapt a First Week retreat? How might we describe the dynamic or movement of the grace of the First Week? It is the interplay between the grace retreatants seek and the colloquy or conver-sation they have with God in each prayer period. Although in this Week, in the second prelude, Ignatius usually suggests a specific way of praying for a grace, he also speaks generally about the way of conversing with God in the colloquies. Because he describes a colloquy as a friend talking to a friend (or perhaps a servant to his master), he presumes that the conversation flows and is not predetermined. The Ignatian dynamic appears in this interplay between the grace sought and the results of the conversation, the colloquy. In an individually directed retreat, the director listens to this interplay between the grace prayed for in the prelude and the grace received as described to the retreat director. The director thereby receives inti-mations for the direction of the following day's prayer. Ignatius places the emphasis, not on dwelling on personal sins or on evil in our world, but on being grateful t

Social Class in Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things TomyPriyoUtomo English Literature Faculty of Languages and Arts State University of Surabaya tomy.priyo@gmail.com Prof.Dr. FabiolaDharmawatiKurnia, M.Pd. English Department Faculty of Languages and Arts State University of Surabaya fabkurnia@gmail.com Abstrak Karyasastraadalahrepresentasikehidupansosial.Di dalamkehidupanmasyarakattertentu, seperti India, adasebuah system yang dinamakankelassosial.Kelassosialmembawamasalahsebagaidampak yang tereflekisdalam novel The God of Small Things karyaArundhati Roy.Tujuandaripenelitianiniadalahuntukmengungkappenggambarankelassosialpadatokoh-tokohdandampaknya.Dalamskripsiini, data yang digunakanadalah novel The God of Small Things karyaArundhati Roy yang diterbitkanpenerbit Flamingo.Dalammenyelesaikanmasalah yang sudahdipaparkan, penggunaanteorikelassosialmilik Karl Marx akandiaplikasikan. Penggambarantokoh-tokohkelassosialdianalisadenganmenggunakandefinisikelas yang didukungolehpelbagaiaspeknya.Sedangkandampakdarikelassosialdianalisadenganmenggunkankonsekuensidarikonsepkelassosial.Tokoh-tokohsosialkelasdigambarkanmelaluibeberapapoin yang mencangkupkekayaan, pekerjaan, danpendidikan.KelassosialatastergambarpadasosokPappachi,Mammachi, Baby Kochama, danChacko.SedangkanKelassosialbawahtergambarpadasosokAmmu, Velutha, Rahel, danEstha. Olehkarenaitu, kelassosialpadatokoh-tokohtersebutmemeberidampakpadakesehatanfisik, kesehatanjiwa, kehidupankeluarga, pendidikan, agama, dansistemkeadilanpadakasuskriminal.Jadi, halinisepertiduridalamdaging yang sudahmengakarpada system kehidupansosial di India. Hal ininampakpadakasusAmmu yang haruskehilangan status sosialnya, hargadiriPappachiterhadapMammachi, dantokoh-tokohlainnya yang meenghadapimasalahkelassosial. Kata Kunci: India, masyarakat, kelassosial. Abstract Literary work is the representation of social life. In a particular social life, such as India, there is social class. The social class dribbles the ball of problems as the impact in Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things is one of the representation of it. This thesis is aimed to reveal depiction of character's social class and impact of their social class. In this thesis, Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things published by Flamingo is used as the main data source. In answering the statement of the problems, theory of social class based on Karl Marx's view is applied. The depiction of the characters' social class is analyzed using definition of social class and supported by aspects of social class. The impact of the characters' social class is analyzed using the consequences concept of social class. The main characters' social class is portrayed through several points. They are wealth, occupation, and education. The Upper social class is portrayed on Pappachi, Mamachi, Baby Kochama, and Chacko. Then, The Lower Social class is portrayed on Ammu, Velutha, Rahel and Estha. Therefore, social class on the characters gives impact on Physical health, mental health, family life, education, religion and the criminal system justice. So, this thesis portrays the intimate enemy of the system that has been rooting in India that always brings problems caused by it, the social class. It can be looked at the fall of social status of Ammu, the dignity of Pappachi toward Mammachi, and other characters who face the same problem of social class. Keywords: India, society, social class. INTRODUCTION In social life, people are demanded to live in integrated individuals where each individual delivers different characteristics. These differences finally construct a problem within the social life, especially economic problems. Economic problem has been classic problem that cannot be avoided in modern life, thus people are categorized by their capability in economic status or class. This categorizing unconsciously creates a phenomenon where society is sorted. The sort of society based on the economic capability seems to have been articulated by Karl Marx, where society with low capability to product will be dominated by the society with high capability to product. Marx exclusively distinguishes three major classes, each of which is characterized in its role in the productive system by 'the factor of production' it controlled –the land-owners, obviously, by their ownership of land; the capitalists ('bourgeoisie') by their ownership of capital; and the proletariat (working class) by their 'ownership' of their labor-power (Worsley, et al., 1970: 302). Finally, social class turns to be tight and the distance among classes go further. In modernism, construction of society is shaped by the demands to live better. This way indirectly emerges competition that a one should defeat the other one just to earn the economic status. This also becomes the base of Western to colonize and dig the domination to Eastern and African. Indeed, colonization has been passed, and all people has freed, but it has not been clear at all. Behind this fact, colonization has leaved behind the effects toward the people who have been colonized. Sometimes, this fact slaughters keenly the problem of the post-colonized people, for instance in India. In India, there is known system of caste, Brahman, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and Sudras. Some 3500 years ago invaders from the north, known as Aryans, imposed the caste system; there is no conclusive evidence that they originated the idea of caste in India, but it seems to be the most likely explanation. The Hindu religion divides the population into five basic groups. The highest groups are known as Varnas (colors) and beneath them come a group without caste, the Untouchables. The four Varnas consist of: Brahmans (a priest caste), Kshatriyas (a military caste), Vaishyas (a merchant or agricultural caste), Sudras (a laboring caste). These caste has been like a stamp to people's destiny and it impacts to their statues in society. These statues are not decided by what they have economically but from what caste they are. Then, it turns to be interesting thing when this system is faced with the problem of economic in modern life (Nobs, 1980: 30—31). As modern people, ability of delivering feeling is not only through direct utterance. The freedom to think, to articulate what they feel finally reach the world of literacy based on the experiences. In the literacy, meanings are accommodated with the beauty of words. Hence, in literary work, especially novel, the view of society including the problem of class can be mediated. It is added by Richard Taylor's Understanding the Elements of Literature, he says that literature is art that essentially created by imagination of the author's experiences (Taylor, 1981: 1). Wellek and Warren even assert that literature can be treated as a document that contains of historical idea and philosophy (Wellek& Warren, 1984: 111). Subsequently, literature work can be something important, crucial, and even interesting thing to dig up with interpretation. The crucial things can be seen in Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things. TheGod of Small Things depicted the life Indian society. The setting of the story takes place in Kerala. The story tells us that comunism or even religion which teach us about equality in human rights in the reality it can not change discrimination and patriarchy in society. The main characters in this novel are Estha and Rahel. They are twins. Their grandfather is the owner of a company from Christian which is very high class (touchable). But their mother has marry with the Hindust man, it means she must change become lower class (untouchable). Max Weber stated that the social class is divided into trhree layers- the upper class, the midle class and the lower class. The higest level is held by educated and wealthy family. This includes Pappachi family. Their social classes are in the high social classwhich gives the member of this class has different life styles,attitudes, educations, and opportunities in the society. The next class is lower class (untouchable), untouchable person can not touch high class. They are uneducated person. They are not allowed to work in high position. In this novel untochable personis Velutha. Velutha is a paravan. Paravan is the lowest caste in Indian. Furthermore, the richness of this novel has glimpsed on the awards that attaches on Arundhati Roy herself and hers. It needs to know that The God of Small Things has won The Man Booker Prize for fiction in 1997. Arundhati Roy herself is a famous Indian novelist and social activist. In 2002, she won the Lannan Foundation's Cultural Freedom Award for her work "about civil societies that are adversely affected by the world's most powerful governments and corporations," in order "to celebrate her life and her ongoing work in the struggle for freedom, justice and cultural diversity". In 2003, she was awarded 'special recognition' as a Woman of Peace at the Global Exchange Human Rights Awards in San Francisco with Bianca Jagger, Barbara Lee and Kathy Kelly. Roy also was awarded the Sydney Peace Prize in May 2004 for her work in social campaigns and her advocacy of non-violence. In January 2006, she was awarded the Sahitya Academy Award, a national award from India's Academy of Letters, for her collection of essays on contemporary issues, The Algebra of Infinite Justice, but she declined to accept it "in protest against the Indian Government toeing the US line by 'violently and ruthlessly pursuing policies of brutalization of industrial workers, increasing militarization and economic neo-liberalization". In November 2011, she was awarded the Norman Mailer Prize for Distinguished Writing. It shows that she is one of important writer in India. Her literary works always tell about social and tradition also symbols to be analyzed. In the instance Roy shows Indian culture as the identity in her literary work. Most of her master piece is showed about social class, tradition in Indian culture. She wrote many books such as an ordinary person's Guide to Empire, War talk, Public Power in the Age of Empire, Power Politics, The Checkbook and the Cruise Missile and The Cost of Living. After all, it is unarguable to be questioned that Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things is full of crucial issues. Based on those facts, the crucial issue that emphasizes on this thesis is in the social classes, thus the potential title that can be put on it is "The Intimate Enemy of Social Class in Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things". RESEARCH METHOD The used method is descriptive quality; it means that the essence or the quality of the data becomes the reference to work rather than the quantity of the data. With interpretation toward the data, the analysis can be worked. Interpretation becomes crucial step because with regardless this, the analysis cannot be maximally operated. It is also as the technique of the study. Then, the approach of the analysis sharpens to mimesis where the universe is used as comparative literature toward the result of the analysis. Indirectly, it includes in extrinsic approach where the sociality is referred as the universe. SOCIAL STRATIFICATION In social life, they always have something that is appreciated. That can be wealth, knowledge, education or economic. In Narwoko&Bagong'sSosiologi: TeksPengantardanTerapan, SoerjonoSoekanto states that in rural society, land and livestock are often considered more valuable than education. On the contrary, it does not happen in modern society. In society, people who have valuable goods in large quantities will be more appreciated rather than people who have a small amount. Thus, they will be considered as low class (Narwoko&Bagong, 2004: 152). This low class construction, because there is characteristic of "not" low class. This construction finally creates categorizing that can be called as stratification. Sorokin states that 'Stratification' is a term used to characterize a structure of inequality where individuals occupy differentiated structural positions and the positions are situated in layers (or strata) that are ranked hierarchically according to broadly recognized standards. The implied reference to sedimentary layers from geology reflects the relative permanence of the posited structure and the long history that is assumed to have generated it. Stratification researchers focus primarily on the empirical study of the sources of the rankings that generate the hierarchy of strata, the mobility of individuals between strata, and the mechanisms of integration that allow societies to cope with the existence of persistent inequalities between strata (Narwoko&Bagong, 2004: 153). Aristotle observed two millennia ago thatpopulations tended to be divided into three groups: the very rich, the very poor and those between. It shows that in ancient times people have come to know and recognize the hierarchy system in society. Social stratification can basically be distinguished into three kinds. They are Class, Status and Power (Worsley, 1970: 288). SOCIAL CLASS According to Karl Marx's Theory of Class, as quoted by Chris Livesey, it is stated that class is the motor of social development. Marx argues that society has developed through four main epochs ("period time"). They are Primitive Communism, Ancient Society, feudal Society, and Capitalist Society. For him, only the first epoch (the "primitive communism") is free from some form of social stratification on the basis of class. This is because, for Marx, class forms of social stratifications only come into existence once people start producing more goods than they require fulfill their everyday needs and gatherer society are basically subsistence societies; that is people can only manage to hunt/ gather enough food for their everyday needs (sociology.org.uk). To describe in detail this theory, it needs to be classified based on the definition, aspect, and consequences of social class. Karl Marx is one of the first writers who analyzes class differences. He sees class as a phenomenon of any society where the ownership of wealth and the means of production, factories or land, gives an economic basis for stratification. Marx also outlines different stages in history in which the ownership of property gives one group control over others. The group, which controls and owns the means of producing food and goods, is the dominant class. Furthermore, Marx argues that there is a constant struggle, a class struggle, and this conflict between the different classes brought about changes in society (Nobs, et al., 1980: 28). Therefore, the conflict among classes are grounded by the domination of a high class over the low class. Class itself, as Lenin says, is large groups of people differing from each other by the place they occupy in a historically determined system of social production, by their relation (in most cases fixed and formulated by law) to the means of production, by their role in the social organization of labor and consequently, and by the dimensions of the share of social wealth of which they dispose and the mode of acquiring it (Collected Works, Vol. 29: 421). Furthermore, Karl Marx divides social class into two classes. They are Capitalist class (or "bourgeoisie") and Working class (or "proletariat"). Capitalist class is those who own and control the means of production (which involves ownership of such things as land, factories, financial institutions and the like). And working class is those who own nothing but their ability to sell their labor power (that is, their ability to work) in return for wages (Henslin. 2003: 284). Similar to Karl Marx in discussing about social class, Max Weber tries to generate it with defining social class as a large group of people who rank close to another in wealth, power, and prestige. These three elements separate people into different lifestyles, give them different chances in life, and provide them with distinct ways of looking at the self and the world (Henslin, 2012: 276). Aspects of socials class are classified referred by wealth, by occupation and by educational level. Each can be used for different purposes or they can be combined (Worsley, 1970: 292). According to Henslin, the primary dimension of social class is wealth. Wealthconsists of property and income. Propertycomes in many forms, such as buildings, land, animals, machinery,cars, stocks, bonds, businesses, and bank accounts. Incomeis money received as wages, rents, interest, royalties, or the proceeds from a business (Henslin, 2003: 276). Furthermore, the spread of material resources among the population is an important indicator of social inequality, while changes in this distribution over time indicate whether society is becoming more or less equal. The investigation of the spread of personal income and wealth, however, is fraught with difficulty because of inaccuracies in the data, the problem of deciding the relevant unit of analysis (whether to use individuals, families or households), how to assess the non-monetary benefits derived from government expenditure, and the way individuals' positions may change over the life-cycle (Abrecombie, 1994: 120). Occupation is another aspect of class that definitely can be included as the ground of belonging to a class.People give less prestige to jobs that are lowpaying, require less preparation or education, involve more physical labor, and areclosely supervised. For example, people in every country rank collegeprofessors higher than nurses, nurses higher than social workers, and social workershigher than janitors. As soon as people develop of being specialized kinds of work, they also get the idea that some kinds of work are more prestige than others. The high prestige occupations generally receive the higherincomes; yet there are many exceptions. The next is factor is education. According to Lindemann, as quoted by Sharon Link & Alexandra Howson in Sociology Reference Guide: Defining Class, it is stated thateducation plays a significant role in one's social position, that is, to aperson's place in the social hierarchy and ultimatelyin stratification. Education also can provide equalityof opportunity and contributes directly to social mobility (that is, to one'sability to move upwardly from one's social class of origin). Social and economic indicators such as income and occupation are typically used to measure social class, and education plays a significant role in determining one's employability, employment, and income (Danziger& Reed, 1999). Education therefore plays a crucial role in the likelihood of people being able to improve their social class location by moving into higher occupational classes. Education is seen as having different functions. Within a consensus or functionalist perspective, associated with the work of Talcott Parsons, education is seen to have a role in socialization; it contributes to ensuring that children are 'trained' to comply with the demands of the social system. Indeed, for many people, education exists to ensure that individuals learn how to be good citizens and thereby maintain an efficient, stable social order. Consequently this view of education emphasizes merit, ability and effort and the needs of society or the economy. Such a view also expresses in the idea that education is about individual opportunity (Raines & McAdams, 2006). When social class exists in society, there will be many impacts given. According to Henslin (2003: 288), consequences of class are divided into six categories. It is very good to be applied as the impact of the social class in The God of Small Things. They are: (1) physical health (2) mental health (3) family life (4) education (5) religion and (6) criminal justice system. SYSTEM OF CASTES IN INDIA India is a country where system of caste grows basically. There were four original castes, separately created by Brahma: Brahmans, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas and Shudras. This fourfold division has its origin in the Vedas, the sacred books of the Hindus, and one of the 'most ancient books in the library of mankind'. They are admitted by all the adherents of the Hindu system to be the primary and infallible authority on the origin of the castes (Keanne, 1978: 24). Senart defines a caste as a close corporation, in theory at any rate rigorously hereditary : equipped with a certain traditional and independent organization, including a chief and a council, meeting on occasion in assemblies of more or less plenary authority and joining together at certain festivals : bound together by common occupations, which relate more particularly to marriage and to food and to questions of ceremonial pollution, and ruling its members by the exercise of jurisdiction, the extent of which varies, but which succeeds in making the authority of the community more felt by the sanction of certain penalties and, above all, by final irrevocable exclusion from the group. While, according to Sir. H. Risley, a caste may be defined as a collection of families or groups of families bearing a common name which usually denotes or is associated with specific occupation, claiming common descent from a mythical ancestor, human or divine, professing to follow the same professional, callings and are regarded by those who are competent to give an opinion as forming a single homogeneous community (Ambedkar, 1916: 3—5). In India, there is known system of class based on the caste. Thus the caste is having seemed to a thing that is flown in people's blood. Hindu religion divides the population into five basic groups. The four highest groups are known as Varnas (color) and beneath them come a group without caste, the Untouchables. The four Varnas consist of Brahmans (a priest caste), Ksathriyas (a military caste), Vaishyas (a merchant or agricultural caste) and Sudras (a laboring caste). Within these groups there are thousands of subdivision; among the Brahmans there are more than 500 subdivisions and there are over 200 divisions of people without caste (Nobs, et al., 1980: 31). India's majority population is Hindu (although it is worth noting that Hinduism is highly variable). Caste is often regarded as a social structure arising from Hindu practices and ideas. But, other religious groups in India also make caste distinctions. Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, Buddhists, and Jains have historically recognized and reinforced caste and/or varnadistinctions (Mines, 2009: 67). SYRIAN CHRISTIAN AND KERALA HISTORY Kerala provides a particularly interesting case study on race because religions are divided from each other based on caste. That is, not only do Hindus follow the caste system, but Christians as well (Sonja, 2001: 129).The Syrian Christians pride themselves on being one of the earliest Christians in the world and trace their conversion to the year 52 AD, when the Apostle of Jesus, St. Thomas arrived on the Kerala port city of Malankara near the bustling trade hub, Muziris.19 According to Syrian Christian communal history, after the death of Christ, the apostles went to different lands to spread the Word of God. St. Thomas went east through Babylon, present day Iraq and onto India. On arriving at the Kerala coast in 52AD, St. Thomas reportedly performed a miracle in front of Brahmins taking a ritual bath. He threw the water in which the Brahmins were bathing into air and it stayed there (Chittilaphilly, 2000:14). Then, The Brahmins impressed by this miracle, immediately asked to be baptized. St. Thomas established churches at Kottaickal, Kokamangalam, Paruetta, Chayel, Kurukkanikulam, and Palloor. He also established chapels and erected crosses at Niranam, Pallipooran, Vattamarry, Cranganore, Palloor and Kuthamana before he was martyred outside Chennai. During St. Thomas's tenure in Kerala, he performed miracles and acts of penance that draw pilgrims to St. Thomas sites to this day (Sonja, 2011: 31). "When I was young, low-castes had to get out of the way of an upper-caste. They would know to get out of the way because the upper-caste would travel with a servant. Every now and again, the servant would call out "hoi". When I was a young girl, I would hear that. "Hoi…" and then a little while later, "hoi". If the low-caste was on the path, he would hide off the path until the upper-caste passed. They used to get out of our way too. My mother told me that us Christians would have servants to sweep the ground before us as we walked so we would not step on any bugs. We were just like upper-caste Hindus" (Sonja, 2011: 36). Restrictions were also placed on worship—lower castes were not permitted to worship the 'high' Hindu Gods (Shiva, Vishnu, and Krishna) but were relegated to demon worship. Temple entry for low-castes was denied. Low-caste Hindus and Christians were prevented from obtaining and education and excluded from public service and government positions (Sonja, 2011: 36). Namboodiriswere exempted from land taxes while low-castes had to pay taxes and fees for even the right to use an umbrella or a palanquin. Namboodirisalso controlled the informal judicial system. While they were exempted from the death penalty, low-castes could receive the death penalty for ordinary offenses such as theft. The sentences of low-caste criminals were brutal: death by elephant trampling, blown from mouth of cannon, hung for 3 days, and mutilations (Sonja, 2011: 36). Historians have conjectured that regulating the oldest son to marry within the caste ensured that the illam(Brahmin property/residence) was kept caste pure (Sonja, 2011: 38). Only converted upper-caste Hindus would be accepted as part of the Syrian Christian fold (Palakunnel, 1999: 221). THE UPPER CLASS Characters who are Upper Class in the God of Small Things are: Pappachi, Mammachi, Chacko, BabbyKochama, Estha and Rahel. The novel tells us about social life in Ayemenem, a rural area in Kerala, India. Pappachi is one of the richest people in the area. He lives in a good wealth. Every single thing that he does shows that he is a rich person. Thus, Pappachi belongs to the upper social class. The higher class people, such as working class women or women who has rich husband usually have a higher life-style. It can be seen from the way of their life. Appearance becomes the most important thing for upper class women. They usually wear expensive clothes or expensive stuff to show off to other people that they are upper class. Mammachi here, in the novel, in the reality of the novel, is told as the wife of Pappachi, a Syrian Christian with high social class. Becoming a wife of the man from high class, indirectly, will lift up her status in front of the society's eyes. With that fact, Mammachi "should" have a life as upper class, with glamour life style, exclusive life, and everything with highest quality. Expensive, that is the proper word for her jewelries, as been exposed to this statement, "Margaret Kochamma took Mammachi's hand. The fingers were soft, the ruby rings were hard" (Roy, 1997: 83). There, the fact is barely exposed, how Mammachi's passions and desires toward jewelries, especially for the expensive ones. Wherever her body exists, wherever her feet step up, wherever her life strolls up to her social life, the jewelries never go to waste to be leaved, it is always following to decorate herself to become "like" upper or high class as usual. Probably, it can be related to the characteristics of women universally, that they likely to show off their jewelries to appear the impression of their status, class, and wealth. Chacko is the first child of Pappachi. As the oldest child, plus a fact of his sex is men, Chacko has privilege. Furthermore, in India, men are having high position especially in social life. It can be understood that India is Patriarch Country where men must have privilege to control everything including women. Going back to Chacko's fact, in the family system, Cahcko can claim to own all properties in the family. As Mamachi's Pickles company, the controller, the manager, the one who has major right is the oldest men child, and he is Chacko, it can be read on this statement, "Legally this was the case, because Ammu, as a daughter, had no claim to the property" (Roy, 1997: 28). Based on that fact, it can be supposed officially that Pappachi's and Mammachi's wealth will be inherited on Chacko, while Ammu, as the women child, has no right on that privilege above those wealth or properties. It presents that Chacko has a govern of Pickles Factory. It is strengthened with the statement of Chacko confesses that the factory is his own. That is clear factually that Chacko has good wealth that means he is a high-class man. Actually, it is important to add that Chacko also has a potential to manage the factory because Chacko has been educated, he has good level of education. Thus, it drives his brain being clear of thinking cleverly, managing something in a god way, and giving good profit. For additional information that supports it, "Chacko had been a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford and was permitted excesses and eccentricities nobody else was (Roy, 1997: 19). Baby Kochama is the sister of Pappachi, John Ipe. She is the most famous person in Kerala. "He was a priest of the Mar Thoma church. Reverend Ipe was well known in the Christian community as the man who had been blessed personally by the Patriarch of Antioch, the sovereign head of the Syrian Christian Church—an episode that had become a part of Ayemenem's folklore" (Roy, 1997: 12).John Ipe is not common priest, she becomes famous because she has been blessed personally by Patriarch of Antioch. Patriarch of Antioch is the Head of Christian Syrian Church. Because of that, after John Ipe has been blessed by the the Head of Christian Syrian Church, John Ipe is respected by the people around her. It means that John Ipe has high social class, especially for people in Ayemenem. Ammu is the last child from Pappachi's family. As the child of high-class family, Ammu automatically belongs to be high-class one. Her life, lifestyle, and education have shown that Ammu is high-class one. Education is something important for a one with high social class. It is usually considered as he step of a one to be high-class one. It is also a factor that can support a one to be high-class one because it can influence the sight and the view of people around him or her to consider as high-class one. Ammu is drawn as a woman that has good education, this educated woman continuously affects her status. It is seen by this statement, "Ammu finished her schooling the same year that her father retired from his job in Delhi and moved to Ayemenem." (Roy, 1997: 19). After finishing her education, Ammu marries to someone. Ammu marries to someone with good wealth. Ammu meets with her husband in a party, the party where rich men jostle and show their wealth off. It is accepted when it is called as a party where rich men assemble, because the irrational thing must be happening when the party is for poor men or low class because the Touchable and the Untouchable must not be touched each other. While Ammu is high-class one, and she comes to a party. The party logically must be a party for high class, and the man that marries to Ammu must be a man from high class. Several weeks pass, Ammu marries with him. "He was on vacation from his job in Assam, where he worked as an assistant manager of a tea estate. His family was once-wealthy zamindars who had migrated to Calcutta from East Bengal after Partition." (Roy, 1997: 19). THE LOWER CLASS Characters who are Lower Class in the God of Small Things are: Velutha, Ammu, Estha and Rahel. Lower social class in this novel is strongly drawn in Velutha's character. Velutha is black but he is so smart. Social class rises strongly through his life. He lives in poverty. As the main character, Velutha belongs to the lower social class. Life background has significance role and it makes his having lower class level as poor people. "He was called Velutha-which means White in Malayalam-because he was do black. His father, Vellya Paapen, was a Paravan. A today tapper (Roy. 1997: 35).The quotation shows Velutha's life background. Velutha is a son of Vellyan Paapen whom a Paravan. So, it automatically makes Velutha become a Paravan too. Paravan is the lowest caste in India. It is also called Untouchable. A Paravan contains of poor people because usually Paravan only work as a lower labor. Velyan Paapen works as a maid in Pappachi family, it means that he cannot deserve his son to get a good financial condition. It brings Velutha living under poverty. Social class rises through his poor condition, because the economic condition he has, indicates that Velutha belongs to lower class people. Ammu is a Christian Syrian from upper class. However, after she gets a divorce with her husband, her status also changes. From being a high class, he turns it in to lower class. After divorcing, Ammu comes back to Pappachi's home in Ayemenem, Pappachi welcomes it because of his compassion toward Ammu, his daughter. But, it does not take to many time for Ammu to decide to get off of the home. Because Ammu "secret" love with Veluthe has been revealed up, thus it drives Pappachi angry and Ammu gets off. Ammu has to fulfill all necessity for her life, she has to work to earn money. Before that, she works at the Pickle factory of her family, but when she has been dropped out of her home by Pappachi, Ammu search for other job in other place. Job is the important factor in dragging the strata in front of the eyes of society socially. People from high class usually have prestige job with good salary. Because it can influence to what life they choose, by buying everything, shopping everything, and establishing their arrogance of the wealth. Following that, the impression of being an upper class can be sought and decided. However, behind that fact, the lower class only has lower jobs, those lower jobs jail their economy. The limited economical conditions will never change their status and strata in front of the society's eyes, thus, their status will keep being lower and never being changed. Ammu, then decides to work at a hotel as a receptionist, and working as a receptionist is not a prestige one. Additionally, the hotel is not five stars hotel, it is only a small hotel with low standard, as has been quoted on this statement, "Ammu had lost the latest of her succession of jobs—as a receptionist in a cheap hotel—because she had been ill and had missed too many days of work." (Roy, 1997: 76). Nevertheless, working here has dropped the health of Ammu down. Probably, it is caused by her changing life, from living in good house with good treatment to living in a low life. His illness finally sharpens to the way she works, she often gets the absences on working, and it makes her getting the fire as a receptionist in that small hotel. Furthermore, working at a small hotel will not give gret significance of changing for a woman like Ammu, particularly for what she gets on his salaray. This quotation can be regarded, "On that last visit, Ammu spent the morning with Rahel in her room. With the last of her meager salary she had bought her daughter small presents wrapped in brown paper with colored paper hearts pasted on." (Roy, 1997: 77). 'Meager salary' explains clearly how small the salary that ammu gets, and it must not fulfill enough for her necessity. The work of Ammu like this is not the prestige one and the salary is too small. That is the main point of this talk, it is concluded that Ammu becomes a lowe class after facing divorcing. The divorcing is added by her love with a low class, Velutha, that facts slap her status in front of the society. Socially, her status collides and becomes one of low class masses. Estha and Rahel are the twin of Ammu with Baba. Estha and Rahel have unique life in this novel. When they are still child, Estha and Rahel are treated by Ammu in her family life that is from upper class. However, although they are live there, there is an unsaid rule that sets Ammu and her children have no right anymore to live in Pappachi's house. But, Pappachi's commission breaks that rule, so that is why they can still enjoy to live in Pappachi's house. It is clear to be understood that Estha and Rahel can be put in to a detail that they are children from upper class. Estha and Rahel can enjoy a trip with family private car that for low class that is the most greatful trip. The trip that they will ever enjoy. The trip they never imagine. The trip they never fantasize because they have been adapted to jostle in the public transportation with the bad smell and disgusting sweat of poor people. Their life is painted in that public transportation and tripping with privacy car is only a part of their fantasy. Estha and Rahel also often go to cinema, it is even told that they have watched film entitled "The Sound of Music" three times. After watching it, they go home to Ayemenem, with one night over sleep in a great hotel. Plus, the smell of food, their trip becomes perfect. The fact like that, is something that is only for upper class, it is important for low class of having it. This lifestyle, indeed, need much money, thus it belongs to upper class with good condition economically, besides that, it is also becomes the viewpoint of valuing the strata of a class. Rahel is a daughter of Ammu. After being left by her brother, Estha, who is sent back to his father, Rahel becomes sad, the sadness grows peaking up when she has to be leaved by Ammu. Rahel, then is treated by Mammachi. All the need of Rahel is fulfilled by Mammachi. As the grand daughter who grows in upper class family, Rahel gets good education. "She spent eight years in college without finishing the five-year undergraduate course and taking her degree. The fees were low and it wasn't hard to scratch out a living." (Roy, 1997: 9). Rahel then continuous her school to a university, and it is not a big problem for Mammachi to pay all the charge of the school. Rahel spends eight years in that university and ends it with no graduation, or it means that Rahel drops out. She even decides to marry to a man from America and go with him to America. Actually, that is not good marriage for Rahel. She is too hurry up to marry. "Rahel drifted into marriage like a passenger drifts towards an unoccupied chair in an airport lounge. With a Sitting Down sense." (Roy, 1997: 10). After deciding to marry and move to America, Rahel does not enjoy her life, because she is not treated as an upper class. Because Rahel has married, her life burden goes to her husband's own. Thus, Mammachi does not pay anything of Rahel's life anymore. However, the age of the marriage is too short, not long after that, the marriage is broken down. Rahel divorces with her husband, and it insists Rahel to work to stay alive and fulfill all necessity for her life in America. It is clear to see that Rahel live in the circle of low class life. She works as a waiter in an Indian restaurant in New York. It is easy to be classified that working as a waiter is one of low class job, it has no any prestige. That job just give little earn for her life daily. Life he has to pass is different with the life he gets in Ayemenem. Rahel also ever works as an employee in a gas station. This job is not a job that can give her good earn in salary. This fact, one day, makes a procure offers Rahel to become a sexual worker where she can get more money. This is simply clear to understand, how low Rahel life in America, and she can be put in to one of low class people. THE IMPACT OF THE SOCIAL CLASS In this section, the impact of social class will be explained. The impact of the social class will be revealed through several characters that have connection each other. The consequences of social class by Henslin (2003) will be used to analyze the impact of the class. The consequences of class that will be used to explain are family life, education, religion, and criminal justice system. Pappachi, the character who is drawn as Upper Class has some impact in his social life. Those are family life and mental health. Papachi has good education, he has prestigious job, besides that, he also has good wealth. It makes him becomes a character or a one who is upper class. The wealth and the prestigious job he has makes him always looks prefect. He desires to be looked as the perfect one around the people. As a man with upper class, Pappachi becomes very famous in Ayemenem. It can be seen to the quotation above, when Pappachi passes away, Indian Express, a newspaper with English letters, writes the news about the death and the funeral of Pappachi. It means that, Pappachi is not only an upper class one, he is more than that. However, the important part that can be informed in this fact is, the class of Pappachi. It is not easy for low class to be put on the newsletter, only important information that can be considered as the important news to be informed, and low class does not belong to. Mammachi is an Indian woman character. As an Indian woman, Mammachi receives all things happen to her. Mammachi marries to Pappachi who is an upper class. Thus, it can be seen that it is not easy to have a couple from different class, especially upper class. However, Mammachi has been ready of facing all the risks, the risks that bring the consequences of social class.Mammachi is accustomed to get hit from Pappachi. Mammachi does not do anything because for Indian women, women, as a wife,have to serve their husband. So whatever her husband does to his wife then his wife must accept it. "He never touched Mammachi again. But he never spoke to her either as long as he lived' (Roy, 1997: 23). So, Mammachi is never really touched or talked at all to Pappachi until Pappachi died. Besides family life, Consequence of social class also influences to the religion. People who are Christian Syrian, are supposed to be upper class than Hindus. In an intriguing chapter of Modernization and Effeminization in India, Anna Lindberg discusses how jobs within cashew factories in Kerala are dependent on one's caste. The dirtiest job, shelling the cashews, is done by the lowest castes of the factories. Shelling is the most unhealthy job as it involves removing the roasted nuts from the corrosive black oily shells. The next step up is peeling, or removing the brown skin from the cashews and is performed by both the scheduled castes and the Ezhavas caste (Linberg, 2005: 55). That quotation explains indirectly how caste affects the job of people in India. People with upper caste will throw the obligation and duty of the job to the lower caste, and people with upper caste prefer choosing clean and light works. Thus, the lower caste, people with the lower caste always works with dirtiness job, and low class job. Chacko is the first son of Pappachi and Mammachi. He was born from upper class family, and it makes the life of Chacko is surrounded by the wealth that can sink himself in the sea of this life. Upper class is portrayed clearly in this novel and it is reflected by Chacko's character. It can be looked at the background of education and of lifestyle of Chacko. The background of education of Chacko that is laid on Oxford and marries-divorces-re-marries, and gets back to Ayemenem, and ends it with heading the Pickle factory, have proven that it is the interesting life to have. However, this social class, finally affects his mental health. As the head of the Pickle factory, Chacko actually can do everything he wants, he has that chance. As has been exposed on this follows statement, "He would call pretty women who worked in the factory to his room, and on the pretext of lecturing them on labor rights and trade union law, flirt with them outrageously." (Roy, 1997: 31). Chacko has a habit of calling all beautiful women who work at the Pickle factor. He invites them with reason to teach them about the rights they have to have. However, Chacko does not do that, it is just a reason. Chacko tries to sleep those women with giving them money. For Chacko, spending much money for sleeping with women, is not a great problem. The condition of his economy, especially money, can guarantee it. Baby kochama is a character who has upper social class in the novel. Her social class then gives impact toward criminal justice system. One with upper social class is usually respected. Once, when Baby Kochama arrives at a police station, she is treated as if a queen. The police treat her very well, with great attitude, and so much respect that is never hidden in the police's mouth. She ever sells a lie to the police, and the police trust it by taking it for granted. Based on that fact, it can be articulated that the impact of Baby Kochama as the upper class is really affecting to her life, her life that is full of respect by the people or the society around her. For the support to proof it, this statement can be supposed to, "Baby Kochamma misrepresented the relationship between Ammu and Velutha, not for Ammu's sake, but to contain the scandal and salvage the family reputation in Inspector Thomas Mathew's eyes." (Roy, 1997: 122). It is clear when it is known that Baby Kochama sells the lie to the police just because she does not want her family gets down of reputation. The way Baby Kochama utilizes her status in the society is very tricky. She reconstructs the story of Ammu and Velutha because the relation between the two is such a shame thing for the family, especially for Baby Kochama's family that is from upper class. With no having any choices to save the reputation, Baby Kochama finally does the lie, with regardless the value of lying is lower than lower class status. Impact of Ammu as lower social class is drawn in physical health and criminal justice system. Ammu suffer from many diseases after he gets out of Ayemenem's house. As has been exposed on this follows statement, "Who came back to Ayemenem with asthma and a rattle in her chest that sounded like a faraway man shouting" (Roy,1997: 76). Her weak economical condition grave illnesses suffered by Ammu. There is not much that can be done by Ammu. Eventhought she is sick, she still has to work to meet all her needs. Living in poverty make Ammu can not treat her disease. Her physical changes occur from groomed Ammu and beautiful become Ammu who has disease and ugly. Ammu physical changes that profoundly changed drastically make her looks very different. When Baba, who is a Hindus, marriage with Ammu that makes the church doesn not want to bury Ammu. because for the church Ammu has different class from them. So, Chacko dicides to bring Ammu's bodies to the electric crematorium. Ammu's bodies are treated very badly, they wrap the body of Ammu on a dirty mattress. How Ammu's bodies are treated very clearly illustrates how Ammu's social class. Her marriage that is considered wrong, living in poverty and disease she has, it all led to Ammu suffer until she dies. Cremation place that is used to burry Ammu's bodies is very dirty. From the above quotation clearly seen what people is burned in that place. Only the bodies of beggars, criminals and police custody are burned on the ground. It is impossible for bodies of people wiyh high social class and have good econmomic condition is buried in that ground. Unfortunately again, no more families are present in addition to the ground except Chacko and Rahel. Impact on the character Velutha great looks of the criminal justice system. Velutha as a lower social class is treated badly in the criminal system. When velutha is accused of making a mistake then the police catch him in a bad way. They do the violence which is not a procedure of arrest. They woke Velutha with their boots (Roy, 1997: 144). The police wake Velutha who is asleep with their hard shoes. The police do not want to touch velutha because he is a lower class. Velutha gets injustice. The police directly commit violence on Velutha without asking first what happen actually. On Estha's character, social class gives impact on his mental health. Estha who is accustomed to luxury living in Ayemenem's house. One day he has to move because his mother send him bank to his father. Where the condition of his father is different with condition in Ayemenem's house. Estha finished school with mediocre results, but refused to go to college. Instead, much to the initial embarrassment of his father and stepmother, he began to do the housework. As though in his own way he was trying to earn his keep. He did the sweeping, swabbing and all the laundry. He learned to cook and shop for vegetables (Roy, 1997: 6). His mental health is disturbed after he decides not to continue his education into college. Estha starts doing what he should not do. He does all the homework that should be done by women. And since then Estha starts rarely speak until one day he really stop talking altogether. Estha performs regular activities without spending a single word. He does not care what the people around him are doing. He will still silent. Although his twin sister, Rahel, is next door and talk, then Estha still keep silent. This condition sometimes makes Rahel think whether Estha become mad, as has been exposed on this follows statement, "Had be seen her? Was be really mad? Did be know that she was there? They had never been shy of each other's bodies, but they had never been old enough (together) to know what shyness was" (Roy, 1997: 44).EStha's mental condition shows that social class can also give impact on mental health. Rahel is raised by mammachi after Ammu die. Of course being raised by mammachi will make life in very good socio economic condition. Raised by Upper class lifestyle makes an impact on family life of rahel. Rahel who has been abandoned by both parents become a very naughty girl. Because she never get a good attention from all her family. Uncle Chacko and Mammachi just give her all the material only. Rahel gets all the facilities that she need so she can reach high education. it is clearly explained how Rahel who are not given attention by all her families. They are just busy with their own affairs without considering the love that needed by Rahel. She is just given all the material she needs such as clothes, food, and money. That all makes Rahel become a naughty girl. Rahel is actually a beautifull smart kid, but she often makes the act that make her eventually are punished and expelled from the school. In the above quotation illustrated how Rahel delinquency in schools. Rahel is first convicted when she is at the Convent of Nazareth. She is caught decorate dorm room door with a flower head. And the next day she is tried and given punishment by the head monastery. Six months after, Rahel is expelled from school because she is already given many punishments and she still keeps naughty. It is all because of Rahel ever caught smoking, she also ever steal and burn bun of Houseministers. Rahel becomes naughty because of she never gets a good attention. Here, it clearly shows that social class olaso give impact to family life. Rahel eventually grows into adulthood without attention and affection of a family. As an Indian women, Rahel's future is determined also by her marriage. CONCLUSION Based on the recent analysis of the data, the result can be concluded that all the issues that have been revealed by statement of the problem can be drawn. There are two conclusions which can be concluded. The first is about the depiction of the social class, the second is about the impact of the social class on the character. The first conclusion is about the existence of social class experienced by the character in the novel. Karl Marx divides social class into two classes. They are Capitalist class (Upper Class) and Working Class (Lower Class). The existence of social class can be seen by wealth, occupation and educational level. As Worsley says that each of the aspects can be used for different purposes or they can be combined. So the character in the novel is divided into two classes. Upper class's characters are Pappachi, Mammachi, Chacko, BabyKochama. And the lower class's characters are Ammu, Velutha, rahel and Estha. The social class can be identified by their economic background, their way of life, their way of dressing, and the standard of living. The second conclusion is about the impact of social class on the character. The impacts of social class are divided into six categories. They are: physical health, mental health, family life, education, religion, criminal justice system. Every character has different social class impact. Furthemore, the writer also find some characters who have different social class. Here, Ammu, Rahel and Estha are Upper social class. Because of some problems, their social class is changed from Upper social class to Lower social class. And it also makes different impact for them. REFERENCES Abrecombie, Nicholas. et al,. 1994. The penguin dictionary of sociology (3rd edition). New York: Penguin Books Ltd. Al-Qudaeri, Golam Gaus & Muhammad Syaiful Islam. 2011. "Complicity and Resistance: Women in Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things". ISSN No. 1948-1845 (Print); 1948-1853 (Electronic). Ambedkar, BR. 1916. Caste in India: their mechanism, genesis, and development. Julundur City: The Awami Press. Chittilapilly, Paul. 2000 The Life and Nature of the St. Thomas Christian Church in the Pre-Diamper Period. Kochi: LRC Publications. Chu, Yu Ru.2006. Recasting India: Caste, Trauma, and the Politics of Transgression in Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things. Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friederich. 2001. The Philoshopy of History. Ontario: Batoche Books. Henslin, James. 2003. Sociology. Boston: Pearson. Hornick, Barbara. 2011. Sociology Reference Guide: Defining Class. New Jersey: Salem Press. Keane, David. 1978. Caste-based Discrimination in International Human Rights Law. Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Limited. Khori, Moh. 2010.Social Class and Political Satire in Mark Twain's The Prince and The Pauper. Lawrence, Wishart London. 1965. V. I. Lenin: Collected Works Vol. 29. Moscow: Progress Publisher. Mines, Diane P. 2009. Caste in India. Michigan: Association for Asian Studies, Inc. Narwoko, Dwi., Bagong Suyanto ed,. 2007. Sosiologi: Teks Pengantar & Terapan. Jakarta: Kencana Prenada Media Group. Nanda, Silima. 2012. "Women as the Oppressed in The God of Small Thing". ISSN 0976-8165. Neil, Stephen. 1984. A History of Christianity in India. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Nobs, Jack. Et al,. 1980. Sociology. London: Macmillan Education Ltd. Palakunnel, John. 2003. Christianity is Truly Indigenous inSt. Thomas Christians. Kochi: LRC Publications. Rao, Anupama. 2003. Introduction in Gender and Caste. New Delhi. Kali for Women. Renou, Louis. 1961. Hinduism. New York: George Braziller, Inc. Richards, WJ. 1908. The Indian Christian of St Thomas. London. Bemrose& Son Limited. Roy, Arundhati. 1997. The God of Small Things. London: Flamingo Taylor, Richard.1981. Understanding the Elements of Literature. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Thomas, Sonja. 2011. From Chattas to Churindas: Syrian Christian Religious Minorities in a Secular Indian. New Jersey: The State University of New Jersey Wellek, Rene., Austin Warren.1984. Theory of Literature. New York: Mariner Books Worsley, Peter. 1970. Introducing Sociology. Baltimore: Cox & Wyman Ltd.

Issue 43.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1984. ; General Government and Leadership The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty A°n Annotation 19 Retreat Experience Volume 43 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 1984 R~-:v~l~v,' l:or R~!~.~(;~otJs (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. Rt.'.v~;w ~:or R~.~(~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis. MO. © 1984 by Rev~w ~:or R~.~(~otJS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write R~,vl~:w voR R~:H(;~ol~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Nov./Dec. 1984 Volume 43 Nttmber 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REw~:w I.oR Rl-:lol(;~otJs; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Queslions for answering should be sent to Joseph F'. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REWEW I-'OU R~.:t.tGious; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; SI. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Spiritual Exercises and Preferential Love for the Poor Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, S.J. Father Kolvenbach was elected General Superior of the Society of J~sus in September, 1983. This article is based on an address he delivered, on February 7, 1984, to the "VII Ignafian Course." an annual program of study/reflection sponsored by Rome's Centrum Ignatianum Spiritualitatis, and was first published in its bulletin, CIS: Vol. XV. no. I (1984), pp. 77-90. Fathgr Kolvenbach, as well as the Center, may be addressed at: C.P. 6139:00195 Roma, Italy. lain very pleased to be here this evening to offer my contribution to the VII Ignatian Course. Not being a specialist, what I shall share with you will be a simple meditation on a theme that is both relevant and important: the link between the Spiritual Exercises and' our preferential love for the poor. Clearly, if not necessarily dramatically, a preferential love for the poor~is contained in the spirituality of the Spiritual Exercises. We find, for example, in the section entitled "Mysteries of the Life of Our Lord"---a text in which the personal comments of Ignatius are rare and thus all the more significant--that a preferential love for th~ poor finds indirect expression in Ignatius' emphatic reference to the situation Of those chosen to be apostles; that they were men "of humble condition" [275]. Likewise the only discourse Iogion explicitly offered for contemplation in the course of the Exercises i.s the Sermon on the Mount, which in the text'begins with.the beatitude concerning the poor [278]. Ignatius also comments that, while Jesus overturned the tables and scattered the money of the wealthy money-changers, "to the poor vendors of d6ves he spoke kindly" [277], asking them'to respect the prayerful purpose of the temple, his Father's house. But these references evidence only an indirect connection with our theme, .the preferential love of the poor. "Rules for the Distribution of Aims": A Forgotten Text There is to be found in the Exercises, however, a much mor6 direct 801 1~09 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec:. 1984 connection between the spiritual urge to follow the Lord and the help that must be offered to the poor. The classic means of giving assistance to the poor had always.been alms-giving. And it is in the treatment of this subject that we shall find the most explicit link between the spirituality of the Exercises and an effective love for the poor, in an oft-forgotten section of the text entitled: "Rules for the Distri-bution of Aimsr' [337-344]. Why has this passage been so often forgotten? Above all because of the very concrete and specific application it makes to a single situation. In fact, ~he document is explicitly addressed to almoners, those who by virtue of their office are supposed to look after the poor, to clerics who practiced charity as their .function. Thus the tone of the text is very. clerical, very priestly. But despite the text's heavy emphasis on ~institutionalism with its many references to ministry, condition, office and function, Ignatius also points to Christ the high priest as the one who is the model and norm for all charitable activity. This particular reference to Christ the high priest [344] expands the horizon of an otherwise purely clerical document, calling every Christian to become a sharer in Christ's ministry through the exercise of almsgiving. In fact, in this document Ignatius takes the office of almoner for granted thus also implic-itly recognizing that not every Christian is called to the direct and immediate exercise of this task in regard to the poor nevertheless he exhorts almoners not to be content to work as mere functionaries, but to be inspi~red by the ministry on behalf of the poor that was exercised by Christ himself. Such an attitude ought to be t.he concern of every Christian without exception, each according to his vocation and state of life. Ig0atius, then, clearly intends this document directly, for a specific group of persons, At.the same time, however, he makes it clear that all Christians ought to have a special bond with the poor. There is another reason why this document is so often overlooked. It is the fact that the practice of aim sgiving no longer has today the honored p lace that this preeminent exercise of charity had in the time of Ignatius. In an older economic order it was principally by means of alms that the good will of the rich helped to correct excessive social inequality--th6ugh of course in a very imperfect.way. Saint Francis. the poor man of Assisi. had his brethren pray every day so that. thanks to therich, they could continue to be poor. Modern persons, however, even if they be poor. are no longer willing to be under anv kind of demeaning economic dependency. They expect and demand to receive from the state the means of a suitable livelihood as their right, not as something subject tb arbitrary distribution, nor dependent upon the mere '~good will" of the "good rich"--an attitude that is the very opposite of what is involved in the practice of almsgiving. Too. the modern untrammeled esteem for the value of work tends to bring almsgiving into disfavor, not just because ¯ the practice is seen as an affront to human dignity, but also because it could so easily,,encourage idleness and sloth. Preferential Love for the Poor / 803 Ignatius and Help for the Poor in his day Ignatius had to face squarely this problem of helping the poor. When in 1535, hating just finished his studies in Paris. he was resting in his native air of Azpeitia. he found himself perforce involved in the overall spiritual renewal of the townspeople. The reform of, charitable works in the area could not but form a part of this general program of renewal. F~r Ignatius. there was a self-evident connection between the two. o On the one hand (and this was to be true of him later in Rome)~ Ignatius did not want to see the poor obliged to beg: all must 'simply be helped according to their need. On the other hand he positively ,encouraged-that all alms from whatever source, whether civic authorities,~'the clergy or the laity, be given to the official almoners (see MI Fontes Docum. 88: De Azpeitiaepaupe-ribus sublevandis: 1535-1542: MI Epp L 161-165, addre~s.ed tO the townspeople of Azpeitia). To avoid abuses, then. the poor ought not to have to seek alms or beg. Rather, the almoners should receive alms to be distributed to the poor. not in their own names, but "for the love of God" (MI Epp Xll, 656: lnsfruction of November, 1554). ~' In reflecting on the m, eamng of this text. there is another facet that is important for understanding the spirituality of the Exercises. It consists in.the fact that for Ignatius himself the significance of aims had gradually taken on differing forms and purposes over the years. The "pilgrim" who in 1523 had wandered about the alleyways of Venice was a solitary mendicant who lived exclusively from alms. But the "companion" who in ! 537 lodged with some of his friends in a Venetian hospice for the poor. and who wished "to preach in poverty." also sought alms for the sake of being able "to help the poor." Heno longer sought alms only for himself, but also in order to help others. From 1540 on. Ignatius the "founder" gradually came to establish two coexisting but radically different regimens of community poverty for the na-scent Society of Jesus. without ever confusing them either in. theory (a relatively easy matter) or in practice (always a more delicate affair). In terms of. this twofold approach to ~community poverty, the "formed fathers." those whose training and incorporation into the Society were complete, would continue to live only from alms. while the colleges for the training of scholastics were tO have stable and~secure incomes in order to respond better to what the Church desired of them. Only in cases of extreme necessity wouM the seeking of alms become the last resort for the colleges, and then all the companions withoul exception would be "ready to beg from door to door" to meet the need. This is still our rule today. Material and Spiritual Poverty Once the "Roman" and "German" colleges had been started in 1550, Ignatius did all in his power to Search out suffi(ient and stable sources ofalms~ what we might call in the parlance of today's economy, "to establish founda- 1~04 / Review f~r Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 ¯ tions." However he was able to find nobody willing to give money liberally: neither princes, nor civic authorities, nor bishops. Even in those days, it seems, money was being squandered on wars--often in the name of religion. In fact Ignatius once wrgte: "After spending so much on material arms to support religionin Germany, it wouldnot be too great a burden if the emperor spared something for spiritual arms which could more effectively gain what is intended" (14 Sept., 1555, to Francis Borgia: MI Epp IX, 614). Considerable sums were being sought and here one sees a further devel-opment in the Ignatian concept of poverty, for these funds were being sought no longer for the sake of those who were economically poor, but for the formation of future priests who were called to help the spiritually poor. The Ignatius who dreamed in 1522 of living off alms alone, like the Egyptian hermit, Onophrius, thirty years later came to discover "God in all things," even in "Egypt"--his expression for the "business dealings" connected with almsgiving that were so necessary to meet the Church's needs. In his spiritual pilgrimage, Ignatius learned to take se.,riously the admoni-tion of the Lord: "He who does not gather with me, scatters" (Lk 1 !:23). For him, alms meant "gathering" with the Lord on behalf of his brothers, the poor. It is no wonder, then, that the Spiritual Exercises should include Rules for the Distribution of Alms. through which their whole, rich spiritual doctrine is applied to the very practical and relevant necessity to help the impoverished and suffering through almsgiving and indeed through the giving of one's very self. The Spiritual Exercises and Aims for the Poor ~ The mere presence of this text On the. distribution of alms in the book of the Spiritual Exercises witnesses to the fact that the Exercises are indeed geared to "the saJvation of souls," but this spirituality faces up to poverty .of whatever sort. Thus material poverty is addressed in these Rules for the Distribution of Alms. [337-344], as is spiritual poverty, for instance in Some Notes Concerning Scruples [345-351]. The contents of the rules on almsgiving also clarifies for us the motivation that led the Society of Jesus from its earliest days to become involved in helping the poor. Already during,the bitter winter of 1538-39, Rome's sole Jesuit house sheltered 400 poor people, Ignatius himself, although utterly absorbed in the government of the young Society, and while still continuing to give the Exer-cises, .also did all he could for the poor and oppressed of Rome. In other words, if its version of the Good News is not proclaimed and expressed in a practical way for the poor, the message of the Spiritual Exercises will rightly be seen as futile and lacking in authenticity. There is yet another document which bears out this characteristic of his spirituality, namely Ignatius' letter to the Patriarch. of Ethiopia. Against the backdrop of Ethiopian asceticism with its .innumerable and excessive penitential practices, Ignatius instructed the Jesuits to work toward lessening the popular Preferential Love for the Poor / 805 esteem for these excessive corporal penances in order to draw more attention to the need of working for the poor. In a nation where social concern was so minimal, Ignatius wanted to found hospitals,.to provide help for the poor by the exhortation to almsgiving both privately and in public, to ransom prisoners, to educate the abandoned, and to help young men and unwanted girls to se.ttle down in marriage. "Thus," he wrote, "the Ethiopians will seein a palpable way that there are better works than their own fasts and suchlike" (MI Epp VIII, 680-690, April, 1555). Such distortions have often been a problem, and not just in the Eastern churches. Aims "for the Love of God" Finally, the pertinence of these rules to the text of the Spiritual Exercises is explained by the simple formula which sums up the only basis for almsgiving that is acceptable to the spirituality of the Exercises: "for the love of God." Jesuits, and all who seek or give alms, should do so "for the love of God." Alms are a way of giving concrete expression to the beatitude ~vhich Was so lovingly addressed to the poor. As they appear in the text, then, these norms guide one's process of discernment for the practice of this concrete e~pression of the love of God. ' ~ Recent commentaries on the Exercises generally judge severely any retreat centered exclusively on a prayer experience that is turned in on the person of the exercitant in some narcissistic fashion. The exp,ression solus cum solo is not meant ,to isolate a person with a solitary God. Rather it is intended to express the appropriate relationship that ought to prevail between a "self" who has received everything from others, who is also called to be for. others, and a God who reveals himself precisely as "God with us~" Despite the frequent use of the first person in the text ofthe Exercises-- which always points to personal responsibility and involvement~the com-mentaries stress the profoundly communitarian character of the Exercises, character which is clearly in evidence right from the Principle and Foundation. Any person's authentic search for God necessarily entails that person's insertion into the human community. Conversely, any person's total commitment to hu .manity could only be the result of that person's discovery of the love of God. The First Rule for the Distribution of Alms Love "from Above . After these reflections on the historical and spiritual contexts of the Riales for the Distribution of Aims, let us now examine the first of these rules: If I distribute alms to my relatives or friends or persons to whom I am attached, there are four things that must be considered: Some of these were mentioned in treating the Choice of a Way of Life. The first is that the love that moves me and causes me to give the alms must be "from above," that is, from the love of God our Lord. Hence I should be conscious within myself that Gbd is the motive of the greater or less love that I bear towa~:d these persons, and that God is manifestly the cause of my loving them more [338]. 80B / Review for ~Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984" This rule immediately situates any gift of alms within agape, the love that, in Ignatius' terms, comes '"from above." In no way, then, should this text be seen as intending to provide merely a psychological preparation for, or .a religious exhortation to, charitable acts. It is not a pep talk for generous giving, nora way of spiritualizing the fundamental human instinct for solidarity. We should also avoid interpreting this rule in a way that merel3i invites to "purity of intention," Taking up anew an Augustinian inspiration which had previously appeared in the First Rule for Making a Good Choice of a Way of Life [184], this norm for distributing alms, while it does not in any way exclude philia (see the reference to "affection for relatives and friends"), does urge that phil[a be caught up and transformed by agape, "the love that,., must descend "from above" [184]. ~ . The expression "from above" also recalls the fourth point from the Con-templation to Attain the Lov.e of God [237]. God, the infinite ~treasury of all good, is in his trinitarian mystery both Gift and Giver of Gifts (see [237]). If, then, the giving of alms is to be divine--and therefore true and authentic--it must find its rationale within the dynamic of this mutual exchange of gifts, this loving movement of the gifts which "descend from above" [237]. There are a number of examples illustrative of this principle in Ignatian literature, Even in the most complicated of business affairs Ignatius kept his vision, of the lov~e ''from above" alive. Thus, for example, he exchanged some ten letters, with a certain Bernardino' Taro from Naples who had offered to sell his house in a complex deal involving some suspicious price fluctuations. A charitable work was involved, the payment was difficult, the Society sought a discount, and the benefactor became irritated. In all the correspondence, though, even while dealing with the complicated finances involved, Ignatius kept the whole transaction within the horizon of the loving movement that comes "from above," as when he wrote: "Let us pray that the Divine Goodness may grant us 'all the grace to be sensitive to his most holy will" (May 17, 1556, MI Epp X1, p, 411). It was not just by chance, then~ that Ignatius wrote on September 16, 1553 tO the, royal treasurer of Aragon, who had generously acted to convey mes-sages between the Jesuits of Spain and of Rome: "May God our Lord, whose love should be the foundation and norm of all love, repay you by increasing his love in your soul to just such an extent . For as there is nothing good witho, ut this love, so no!hing is lacking where it is present" (MI Epp V, pp. 488-489). The norm, then, for the appropriate distribution of alms is not, per se, our human solidarity, certainly it is not just philanthropy, but the agap~ of God himself, which takes flesh, in our human capacity to give and to forgive. The effort expended in undergoing the Spiritual Exercises so as "to rid oneself of all inordinate attachments" [1], is aimed precisely a,! allowing the divine t;gapP to take possession of our capacity to love. Thus t,he Rules for the Preferential Love for the Poor / 1107 Distribution of Alms have no other purpose than to put into practical effect what the Apostle John says in his First Letter: the man who does not love his brother most surely cannot be said to love God; and no one truly loves his brother unless it be with the love of God who first loved us (see l Jn 4:19-21). In this Ignatian concepiion, then, the principal criterion by which to judge one's preferential love for the poor is decidedly on the basis of .whether that love truly comes "from above," and does not rest on the simple fact that one is giving aid to one's poor brother. In other words, thee value of such a charitable act is to be judged in the measure in which me_re philanthropy has been taken up and transformed by divine agape: Service of the poor, to be sure! But before all else, service ,in my name," if it is to be true and authentic. Love "from Above"." for the Poor This first of the Rules for the Distribution of Alms, then, bringsphilia and agape.face to face with each other. "To give to those to whom one is attached by relationship or friendship" is not. automatically "ordered towards the love~ of God that comes from above"~except insofar as such a gift would actually reflect a preferential loye for the poor even in being given to oneYs own. We can find the interplay betweenphilia and agap~ that is evoked by this first rule applied in a realistically practical way in a letter from Ignatius to the Archdeacon of Barcelona, Jaime Cassador (February 12, 1536): "I mean, it. would be better to give to the poor when our relatives are not as poor as those, who are not relatives. But, other things being equal, I have more obligations to my relatives thar~':to others Who are not relatives" (MI Epp I, pp. 93-99). In other words, attachment even to relatives and friends must be caught up into the divine agape: the poor are to be preferred even above relatives unless these are themselves poor. . ' Love 'from Above"." for All the Poor The collection of Ignatian texts we have cited with r6gard to the first of the Rules for the Distribution of Alms raises a delicate question. The preferential love. for the materially poor is quite clearly a manifestation, an "epiphany" of the love that comes "from above," going as it does beyond philanthropy or the love (phil¢a) tha,~t is exercised towards one's relatives and friends. The well-ordered practice of this~ divine love (agape) clearly makes possible many social initiatives in the service of the economically po0~r. The fact that this love is not to be directed exclusively to the economically poor and socially marginalized springs from the Ignatian conviction th.at, in the last analysis, almsgiving is not meant to enable persons merely to become economically rich, but to enable persons to become rich in God's eyes~ to use the expression of St. Luke. Our free response to the love of God makes us deeply sympathetic toward the hopes of poor people under every form and at every level of genuinely human choice, but not in the pursuit of any and every messianic drehm, nor of any and every political or social option. Review.for Religious, NOv,-Dec., 1984 If in the text of the Spiritual ExerHses the use of the word "poor" is quite rare~ it is only at the end of the doc~aments on Election and in the Rules for the Distribuiion,,of"Alms that the term "poor" appears in its strictly social and economic sense (see [344] as an.application of [189]: Directions for the Amendment and Reformation of One's Way of Living in His State of Life). There.is no doubt at all that, after the example of the Gospel, the primary concern of the Spiritual Exercises is the conversion of hearts to the love that is "from bove ;~'w~thout such a conversion, all social activity, even the most generous, would already be found lacking, for its aim would not be "the human person taken as a whole." Why was there already urged insistently in the Old Testament the obligation to help the poor? It was not to make the poor economically rich, but because a person without money--in this sense "poor"--is not a "complete person" in the image of the love of God. A social revolution undertaken without agap~ means, and cannot but rlaean, death and hatred. As is well known, the Old Testament prophets;and finally'John the Baptist, expri~ssed themselves on social and economic matters in radical, even literally violent fashion. On this point, compared to the invec-tives of the prophetS, Christ's message seems like a comedown. And yet his "new Commandment," which should, according to Ignatius [338], be the root s'ourceoof the human love that finds its expression in almsgiving, possesses a r~adicality and an unprecedented newness that are quite capable of tra~nsfoi'ming humanity. In other words, Ignatius affirms in the Exercises that the human search for God is not authentic if it does not express itself in a loving commitment to the world of the poor: but. conversely, there is no perfect commitment to the cause of humanity, and concretely to the cause of the poor, unless it' be the fruit of one's personal discovery of the love of God that comes "from above." Love "from Above"." Opposed to All Poverty The cri/icisms offered in regard to theologies of social justice and of libera-tion do not call into question the urgency of the political, social and economic concerns that inspire these theologies. But the whole of God's revelation to the world cannot ~ever be restricted to a merely political, gocial and economic liberation, nor even to the gen'eral idea of freedom as such. Thes+ theologies do righily present one aspect of theology taken iri its entirety. In practice, theology ought to demand that the Church 'strive to reform the whole wbrld under every aspect according to the spirit of Christ. But the Church's option for the poor:should not be intended in a~way that would jeopardize the offer of salvation to all persons, the offer of that liberation which is the gratuitous gift of God proffered to all humanity. In struggling for liberation and justice, the Christian is called, not to curse those who have possessions, but to encourage theha also toward conversion to Christ. The Exercises ought never be limited to a single apostolic objective, To speak~ for purposes of illustration, of the time of Ignatius,' the Exercises were Preferential Love for the Poor / 809 never .focused exclusively upon the struggle against emerging Protesiantism alone, n6r upon the evangelization of the European masses alone, nor upon the refor~n of a corrupt 'clergy alone, nor upon missionary efforts overseas alone. In the same way in our own day, the Exercises should not be used only to arouse zeal for the social betterment of the oppressed, nor only for the better-ment of peoples who live in subhuman conditions. The Exercises are meant to stir each person who enters upon them to a radical gift of self, and it is going to be through this radical gift of oneself that the Lord is going to be perceived as calling that person "by name." This is the overall vision that Ignatius had. Like the Lord, he too had an evident preference for the poor, but he saw the poor as "persons" rather than as just ',the poor." We shall find in him no trace of any kind of paternalistic pity--itself a subtle but real form of domination. And without this kind of respectful regard for persons, one has no right to approach the poor. The Second Rule I will only make a few brief comments on the Other rules contained in this passage from .the Spiritual Exercises. The second rule to be observed in regard to the distribution of alms [339]:draws ~its inspiration from the second rule for . making a good election [185]. Here again, it is proposed that one abstract from one's :own individuality, .that one c6nsider oneself as an unknown, a person who is met for the first time, but who is esteemed, and for whom there is the desire for all perfection in the exercise of his or her office or state of life. In fact, all the rules to be observed for a suitable distribution of alms contain this same positive and rich outlook on all other persons, on our neighbors. The perfection that we ought to desire for others' as well as our-selves in distributing alms and in the exercise of our preferential love for the poor consists really:Sin wanting us and them to become other Christs. While one can makelife hell forthe neighbor, one can also be a source of living hope as well.! Ignatius' love for poverty was really and wholly a love for the person of the poor Christ (see [ 167]). Ignatius longed to be poor himself because Christ was poor. He longed to be poor as Christ was poor. In the same way, then, he proposes that Jesus must be the one who inspires us in the way that we go about distributing aims and serving the poor. To put it another way, we need to enter into Jesus' own way of exercising his preferential 10ve for the poor. Here the distinction between poverty and riches in the Spiritual Exercises becomes important: Spiritual poverty in the Exercises readily takes on the form of gratuity as opposed to greed. The gratuity urged by Ignatius for Jesuit ministries, for :instance, contrasts, and is intended' to contrast, with even the ¯ appearance of"business" or of the "marketplace'~in our approach to ministries, to ecclesiastical~offices and benefices, to the distribution of alms themselves. Powerful or rich persofls who always have others at their beck and call do 8"10 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 not expect.anyLhing in return beyond a calculated, response based on quidpro quo. TheLord in the Gospel, however, is portrayed as being poor. His:service is always freely given, without a hint of such calculating expectation. To remove the ministry ofalmsgiving, then, from every suspicion of interestedness, to decline gifts 'which automatically elicit gifts in return, to prefer to give .freely to those who count.for little in the world of vested interests--this is to be poor with and for the Lord who was poor. ~Gratuity, then, is a sign expressi~,e ~f the potential for radical change in human societythat could be created~--but only by the love that~is "fromabove." In the Old Testament, the paschal mystery of the Exodus had already given evidence of our human incapacity to chang.e society through our own resour-ces alone, of the impossibility of ever really convening Pharaoh, of ever becoming satisfied with any mere social teaching~that is aimed at bettering the lot of human beings. Only God, through his gratuitous gifts, can create a new humanity, a humanity "without poor people" (Ac 4:34), a society where the "poor~' of the ExoduS will live the "new commandment" of God's free self-giving. The Third and Fourth Rules The third [340] and fourth [341] rules for distributing alms present yet another characteristic of the Lord who is poor. If a person were to consider himself or herself in the light of eternity, the realization would soon dawn that, of all the riches he~ld: nothing really belongs to the~person, that the person is forever receiving, in order then to be able to give, and, in keeping with-the Judgment of the Trinitarian God, ultimately to give oneself t'o others with and through his or her gifts. This ',eternal Judgment" is actually the Lord of the Cross who died stripped of all, in the utter poverty not just the poverty of one who dies bereft of all possessions, but the poverty of one who dies~as a complete failure. , , , Here, then, is another Characteristic of the divine agapP:' a way of giving to another that ultimately comes even to the giving of one's life. It is at this point in the Spiritual Exercises that Ignatius increasingly uses the words "humble," "humility; . humiliation." It is impossible to love divinely in a possessive or domineering way. A preferential love for the poor couM be ideological, patti, san, selective, paternafistic. But as a passage in the Treatise on the .Election (1541) by Pedro Ortiz~explains, Ignatian "humility" is the divine way~ of loving. And the divine way of loving, revealed in Christ Jesus,,(onsiSts inthe humble offering of oneself for others that they may live. It is in this more profound sense that the rules for distributing alms urge a person to "imitate as closely as he can our great High Priest, model and guide, Christ~our Lord" [344]. Our preferential love .for the poor, if authentic, will move .through inevitable humiliations toward a love that refuses to be either condescending or domi-neering, that refuses to imp.ose itself by power or violence. The desire of humble love, of "humility" in the lgnatian sense, is,~then, the prayer toincar-nate the Paschal Mystery in a way that will arrive at this kind of radical Preferential Love for the Poor ] 811 poverty with Christ poor, whether this relates just to desire--the readiness to give oneself as the Lord wants, or to the realization of desire the actual giving of o~eself to those specific poor persons to whom the Lord sends one. The Remaining Rules The rest of the rules proposed by Ignatius for distributing alms explain still more clearly the practice of almsgiving which, in the terms of St. John Chrys- 9stom. was to be the human e?~pression of God's compassion. Ignatius encourages the kind of generous and unstinting distribution of resources that would inevitably require a simplification in the lifestyle of the almsgiver [344]. In this way there is no room in the asceticism proposed by the Rules for the Distribution of Aims for the kind of spiritualizing that would permit an abstract definition of personal spiritual poverty. That person is not poor who shuns the thought of death. Nor is the person poor who ensures his or her own security by storing up provisions for the future. It is rather the person who opts for insecurity through gratuitous giving, who offers out of his or her own necessity personal goods to others, and who giyes, himself or herself in them. "To be poor," then, means not just giving what is superfluous, but the ceaseless calling into 'question, both at the personal and at the community level, one's habits in' the matter of food~ dres~s~: living quarters, en!ertainment-- not just for the sake of thrift,' but in order to be able to, give to others--to the poor. Conclusion In a letter to Father Lorenzo of M6dena (May 16. 1556) Ignatius wrote: "You must understand that our Society, in its ~ractice of a umversal charity towards all nations and classes of men. does not approve cultivating particular affection for one people or for any.individual person.~except in the measure that well-ordered love.requires" (MI Epp XL pp. 408-409). " Guided by such well-ordered love--the love which looks to "the spiritual" works which are more important'~ (Constitutions, [650]), because the goal is the whole human pers, on-~we are to dedicate ourselves to thecorporal works of mercy, among which commitment to the poor takes pride of place. And so in a ~single movement of love. Ignatius,~is both attached a.nd detached. He lives a humble love which, as we have translated it here. is the love that comes "from above." The Exercises. a school of Christian freedom, in leading beyond "philan-thropy," gives to the preferential love for the poor for all the poor_--its truly Christian dimension. It is seen as our free response to that love, for the poor which God revealed in the poor Christ. who is himself rich in the Spirit To Divest or Not to Divest: Moral Investments and Immoral Purposes Michael H. Crosby, O F.M. Cap. Of this present article, Father Crosby writes: "A growing number of Catholic and Protestant groups are deciding to divest from their shares in companies involved in the nuclear armaments ch~iin. The process [utilized by] the Midwest Capuchin Franciscans serves as a case study." This experience can certainly serve as occasion for reflection on the difficult and complex task of bringing spiritual conviction to bear on actual life situations. Father Crosby, author of Spirituality of the Beatitudes, is Project Coordinator of the National Catholic Coalition for Responsible Investment. He is also Corporate Responsibility Agent for the Midwest Capuchin Province. Father Crosby may be addressed at Beatitude Program; 10i6 North Ninth Street; Milwaukee, WI 53233. Durin _the last two weeks of April and the first weeks of May, more corporate shareholder meetings are held than at any other time of the yeai'. High on the list of concerns by church-related groups of shareholders is .the issue of nuclear weapons production. This year, as in the past, the church groups" concerns were coordinated through the New York based Interfaith Center on Corporate Responsibility (ICCR), the action arm of Protestant church,Catholic diocesan, and religious order investors concerned about the social impact 0f'business corporations and the application of social criteria to their own investments. For this spring's annual meetings, eight companies involved in different stages 'of the fiuclear weapons chain received shareholder resolutions from groups affiliated with ICCR. Some resolutions were subsequently disallowed by th'e Securities. and Exchange Commission, but several were to be debated on the floor of the annual meetings. For last year's meeting of AT&T, at least sixty-five groups filed a resolu-tion requesting the company not to renew its contract with the U.S. Govern- 812 To Divest or Not to Divest / 813 ment to manage the Sandia National Laboratories which carries out research and.development on nuclear weapons systems. Yet this year only forty groups filed witli AT&T calling for the company to establish criteria for military contracts and to terminate its nuclear weapons contracts. Similarly, for .the 1983 annual meeting of Geheral Electric, over forty groups, asked GE to consult with experts about and to support the nuclear freeze by declining to accept or to renew contracts involv!ng the development or production of nuclear'weapons~ Yet this year only thirty-one groups filed with GE asking the company to develop criteria for acceptance of military contracts. Why has there bee~ such a decline in the number of fliers in just one year? Has the U.S. Catholic Bishops statemeht The Challenge of Peace: God's Promise and Our Response fallen on 'deaf ears? Is it due to a lack of resolve and follow-through? Or is it becausethe new SEC rules make it more difficult to return to companies on an issue when the previou~ year's voting has been small? According to Ursuline Sister Valerie Heinonen, ICCR's Military Work Group Coordinator, it is hone of the above. It is, she believes, "primarily because the Roman Catholic agencies in particular carried out divestment statements or were working on divestment positions and were in the process of implementing them." My Midwest Capuchin Franciscan Provinceis one of those groups that filed with 'AT&T and GE (along with Tenneco, Dupont and Rockwell Interna-tional) last year but did notdo so this year because of our newly-inaugurated divestment posture. In rearhing this decision, we joined such Protestant denominations as the United' Presbytbrians and th6 United Church 6f Christ as well as many Catholic dioceses and 'orders, including the Salvatorian Sisters of Milwaukee and th~ Franciscan Sisters of Philadelphia. As early as April, 1982 the Adrian (MI) Dominican Sisters' general congregation declared: The c~ngregation will take a public stand for peace-making by di'.vestin~ itself, within ¯ one year. of stock currently held in the top one hundreff~diffense contractors. The portfolio managers will be instructed by the general council not to invest in these companies unless some stock is requested by the Portfoli6 AdvisofyBoard in anticipa-tion of filing a shareholder resolution. A few years ago, as Corporate Responsibility Agent for my Province, I was against divestment; yetl was concerned about the issue. I recall being part of a discussion group that struggled to define the many complex issues that must be considered in dealing with divestment: How can we balance the "peace statements" of our bishops and congregations with nuclear holdings? How do we distinguish between'.direct and indirect involvement via our stocks? Should we have stock in an), company that is part of a system that many believe is doing so much harm to so many? If we:are to do "good" via our ministries, to what degree can we do so because of "evil" returns' from questionable corporations? Should we distinguish between nuclear and con-ventional arms? Is capitalism morally evil? Or is it inorally neutral, but with some practices that are evil? Why pick on the nuclear armaments companies? 814 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 How do we deal with the balance of terror? How does the Nuremberg princi-ple of .culpability apply that all citizens are responsible, for their govern-ment's decisions, and will be held liable by humanity? Divestment has no impact on companies, except for a one-hour press c0nference~, so why not stay in and fight? Have we exhausted alternatives? If we do divest,.should it be total or should we keep a few shares to "keep the pressure on?" While no papal or episcopal statements tn the Catholic Church have called for divestment in companies involved ih the nuclear armaments chain, there are many pronouncements that touch the issue. In Pacem ~in Terris, John XXIII said, "the arms race should cease." Paul Vlsaid at the UN, "let the weapons fall from .your a os, and, in Populorum Progressio, "every exhausting armaments race becomes an intolerable scandal." John Paul II said at Hir0shima. in 1981, "let us promise our fellow h~man beings that we will work untiringly for disarmament and the banishing of all nuclear wea-pons." In March, 1984, a top Vatican spokesperson warned an international conference on European disarmamgnt that a poli~y of nuclear deterrence (the backbone of the U.S. bishops justificatio, n of the U.S.nuclear arsenal) leads to mistrust and escalation of Lthe arms race. Meanwhi!e, in their pastoral leiter, the U.S. bishops called upon Catholics at every level of defense industries. [to] use th~ moral principles of this letter to form their consciences~. . .°. Those who m conscience decide that they should no longer be associated with defense activities should find support in the Catholic commumty. Those who remain in these industries or earn a profit from the weapons industry should find in the Church guidance and support for the ongoing evaluation of their work. From my reading 9f the bishops' statement, "ongoing evaluation" of involvement in the production of such weapons ultimately should lead to disassociation from-the companies. But what about those dioceses, religious orders and lay investors tha.t are "making a profit from the weapons industry" via their stocks and bonds? What about our "ongoing evaluation" leading to possible disassociation? Stich statements nudged me to begin rethinking my position about possible divestment. The issue, it seems, is not whether churches, dioceses, or congregations support or. don't support unilateral disarmameht on the part of the United States. Divestment has little or nothing to do with disarmament. More and more the question is: Should we be involved in producing more weapons, especially since each side. has enough weapons to kill the other scores of times over?.How can more.weapons be produced when the arms race has been condemned. So on this issue we're not talking about disarmamenti just about not building more. We~'re talking about the three additional bombs built each day, and the ,ever-more sophisticated delivery systems being created. I was beginning to ask questions like these when the provincial council of my Midwest Capuchin Provinc.e ~asked its Justice and Peace Committee, of which 1 am a member, to prepare a position paper on the subject of. our holdings in nuclear armaments manufacturers so that it could determine how To Divest or Not to Divest / ~115 to deal with the provincial portfolio. Some might wonder why the followers of the Poor Man of Assisi should even have a portfolio. Their concern is shared by many of us, yet we find ourselves m a predicament. The Province has almost three hundred men. Because of decisions in the past, it now owns and operates fiv~ retreat houses which need ~provincial maintenance. It owns and operates the largest minor seminary in the United States. While it has many men in white, middle-class parishes, a large number also serve in Black, Hispanic and Native American areas, including the Cheyenne and Crow reservatiohs in Montana. From three of its inner-city locations in Wisconsin and Michigan, it runs meal programs, including Detroit's famous "Capuchin Soup Kitchen." Besides having preachers and hospital chaplains and campus ministers, our members serve in Central America, the Pacific, Australia and the Near East. The dividends from the portfolio, along with salaries and donations, constitute the arinual provin-cial income budget. Since the province is highly involved in work among the poor and for social justice (on.ly one hundred or so members actually draw salaries), the portfolio's dividends are currently needed to meet normal operating expenses. All annual revenues beyond the budget are allocated to the poor or for social justice causes--unless some extraordinary expense'needs to be,met, such as helping to repair a leaking roof in one of our inner city parishes in Milwaukee (which, .by historical happenstance, is incorporated in the name of the pro-vince rather than of the diocese). Two members of.the Justice and Peace Commission developed a position paper on divestment for the provincial council: Francis Dombrowski, who was trained as a moral theologian; l, the second author, have background in Franciscan spirituality and corporate responsibility. We were to investigate the ethical issues and our Franciscan charism to,determine what we might recomm(nd to the provincial council. It was decided that, rather than leave the decision to the council, (which earlier had divested from Upjohn.because of its manufacture of an abortifacient), ~his time the province's membership at large would be asked to become involved in making the decision. The paper was divided into four major sections: I) The facts behind th~ dilemma presented by the province's shareholdings; 2) Basic principles to be used to determine continued participation in the. manufacture of nuclear-re-lated weapons; 3) An application of the Franciscan charism to the signs of our times; and 4) A proposal for action by the province. The Facts The first section outlined the situation of. the. arms race, our participation in it via our stocks and bonds~ plus the fact that the companies at issue also did much good: , Our province has invested over a quarter of a million tlollars in some of these compan-ies with government contracts for nuclear weaponry. Thus we°'~re receiving income ~116 / Review.[br Religious, Nov.-Dec:, 1984 precisely because these weapons are being built at a profit to the company and to us as~ shareholders. Iris true that these companies'make many products and items that promote good for others; For instance, G,~neral Electric is a company in which our Province has 210 . shares (worth $19,924.00 as of December 31, 1982). We also.have $~0,000 in bonds in General Electric Credit Corporation. GE makes a body scanner which hospitals have found invaluable in saving lives; yet GE is one of the seven companies that actually makes components for the hydrogen bomb and is also involved in building the MX missile system. In 1981 GE received $3 billion in military contracts from .the United States government, accounting for I I% of its sales. This, means, in actual fact, that our province is cooperating in the production of nuclear weapons by investing money in the companies that build them. ~ The paper went on to explaiwthat holding shares does not make stock-holders proximate cooperators nor principal agents in the actioi~'s of the companies. Yet it made it clear that "we are remote cooperators in'a very.real way as owners who receive dividends from our investments and interest on ou~ bonds to sustain our way of life. Because we are shareholders and partial owners, we have s6me responsibility to make surethe companies in which we invest are not involved inactivities that counter our Franciscan vision of life." The province has adapted the steps outlined in Mt 19 (go and talk, on the word of two or three; take itto the court)in trying to get companies to change "activities that counter our way of.life,:' especially through its membership in ICCR. Since 1976 it either voted its proxies, filed resolutions, or s~oken at, annual meetings of companies involved in nuclear armaments. It bought ten shares of Rockwell International to dialogue with the company which, along with Allied (Bendix), AT&T, GE, Dupont, Monsanto, Pentax and Union Carbide (at that time), actually produced those components which would " make the nuclear weapons operational. 1 was one of three or four on a negotiating team which has,engaged in ongoing dialogue with Dupont.about its involvement. So, as a province, we had been trying to make our concerns known to the corporations. Having reviewed the way we had tried to bring the Gospel. of Peace to the "~houses" of these corporations (see Mt 10:12-15); we now had to ask ourselves: "Since these companies give no indication of change in policy and ciSntinue to accept defensb contracts that will further build up our nuclear arsefials, the question israised: What is the next step in dealing with these companies: more dialogue -- or divestment? Basic Principles 2) The second section of our position paper developed principles to be used in determining our continued participation in the manufacture of nuclear weapons~ It distinguished nuclear weapons from conventional weapons, and singled out "top" defense contractors because of the difficulty in determining the degree of involvement. Can a company like Exxon or Mobil, which provides gas for military trucks, be put in the same category as General To Divest or Not to Divest Dynamics, which makes airplanes and nuclear submarines that can deliver nuclear bombs? The principles included a lengthy treatment of just-war defense and the. -attitude of non-violence. The next area taken up dealt with deterrence. The paper shared why its ~position differed from that of the bishops by not accepting deterrence as a viable rationale. In this difference~,with the bishops' ,approach, the. paper reiterated the position of the leadership of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, The paper noted: There is also a moral question as to whether or not we can threaten to use nuclear weapons against a country to keep it under control. It is morally wrong to use such weapons even against a limited target because the effects of radiation would be deadly , for many beyond the target. There is no proportion between any good achieved and the untold destruction in the aftermath. If it is immoral to use these weapons, it is also immoral to in'tend to use them as a threat. The mere verbal threat to use them against ~ another nation with the secret intent not to actually use them is unrealistic. The threat is effective only if the intention to use them is real. The position the paper took seems to differ little from the way the Vatican thought seems to have been evolving, especially given its recent, March statement at the European disarmament conference. The final part of the "Principles" section considered principles for cooperation and "non-cooperation in evil. The two traditional points were made quite clear: One who by his/her approval, vote~ consent, together with others causes harm knowingly is guilty of i,njustice~and is obliged to make restitution in proportion to the efficacy of his/her consent. Cooperation means helping or assisting another in the performance of an~ injustice. Whoever takes an active part in an unjust action is guilty of the injustice if his/her efficacious cooperation is formal, that is, intended and deliberate. Material cooperation means not really wanting the injustice, but helping in it or contributing to it without a sufficient reason. Ordinarily, materia, I cooperation is morally wrong. According to traditional Catholic teaching, however, material cooperation is per-mitted if (and only if) two conditions are fulfilled: . a. The manner of one's cooperation is not a morally evil'act in itself, but only some participation or contribution to the evil or injustice done by another. b. The reason for one's cooperation is sufficiently important and proportionate to the ~:vil involved. By the time I r~ad the r~aterial presented by Francis Dombrowski, especially the principles related to (non)cgoperation, I had begun to believe that it would b,e difficu!t, if not impossible, for us t6 justify crntinued holdings in ,n~uclear armaments companies. This growing conviction was reinforced when I realized our portfolio could be diversified without any serious financial loss. We had. no "sufficient reason" to continue material cooperation. When I was definitely leaning this way, it was my research into the Franciscan charism that finally made me convinced that we could no longer hold stock in such companies. 81B / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 Application The third section of the paper noted that the times when Francis lived in Assisi vis~-vis wars and preparation for war were similar to our own era. According to Arnoldo Fortini, a biographer of Francis.and former mayor of° Assisi, war was "a condition of life for every city?: A militaristic way 'of thinking and acting became normative of the way opposing groups settled their differencesl Groups armed themselves to threaten their enemies, and were ready to use those arms to destroy their enemies in order to preserve their way of life, Fortini notes of the Christians of that era that they were so controlled by such an attitude that ?they could~not even imagine a faith that was not sustained by military skill." Within such an environment, Francis began to imagine a f~ith that did not need to be buttressed through armaments. It would be a way that society would p~erceive as totally alien to its way of operating and dealing with opposition. The paper noted: In the face of the militarism of his fellow citizens, Francis realized they were not about to change their ways: So he and his followers had to "divest" themselves of those ways. Thus the friars were not to acquire property, lest they take up arms to protect it. For their part, the laity ~fellow citizens as well) would bring the Franciscan charism to beai upon their lives and society through non-cooperation. They would not be able to bear any ii~thal weapons if they were to be faiihful to Frdncis' vision of life in that militaristic" milieu . it seems quite clear that his society shrouded in faith and religion the manufacture, use and deployment of lethal~ weapons. Francis' "No" must be applied to our day'as well. If Francis said no, and if Jesus said "No" to Peter who wanted to use a weapon of violence for self-protection, our response too can only be "no more of this" (Lk 22:51). What other response can we make, not as citizens of Assisi, but of the United Stfites, but to separate ourselves from this way of settling disputes and dealing with our enemies? We have been born as citizens of~the United States; we have unknowingly accumulated shares in companies manufacturing nuclear weapons. But we can choose now to respond to these realities with the,charism of Francis. ~ Proposal for Action 4) The final part of the paper presented a "Proposal for Action 'by the Province" which built on the previous three sections. After a summary of the main issues, the paper concluded that a nuclear war of defense cannot be morally justified because it,,does not discriminate between combatants and non-combatants, and' damage inflicted would be greater~than the good to be obtained. It noted that the Gospel of Peace and nonviolence, combine~d with the Franciscan call for peacemaking in a way that refused the'~bearing of arms, called us to a stance of nonviolence and nbncooperation. Next, the'~,paper countered '~the present position justifying deterrence on the grounds that it lacked solid moral underpinnings, as well as the evident fact that the possession of weapons did not help ,negotiations, but had instead increased the arms race. Th~ next point called for a freeze of further production of~veapons. ThissuEport for a nuclear freeze was followed by noting that a threat of"first To Divest or NOt to Divest ] 819 strike" is incompatible with the just-war theory and a nonviolent position and "has been directly condemned in the U.S. bishops' pastoral on war and peace." Finally, the paper again presented the dilemma of having stock in nuclear armaments companies and reached the conclusion: Since these nuclear weapons and their systems are being produced by corporations in which we have investments and since we, as a province, are making money on the production of these weapons, we feel it is an unjustified form of material cooperation to continue our investments. The good products these same companies manufacture and sell in no way can compensate for the incalculable destruction these weapons can inflict and forthe tremendous fear, mistrust and intrigue that the possession of such weapons causes between nations and peoples, not to mention the misuse of natural resources. technology and money that could be used for jobs and for the poor and hungry of the World. Given the paper's rationale, the provincial council recommended to the. province's membership a "clear decision of divestment from corporations that have major nuclear weapons contracts from the government." A criteria to determine "major" was fixed at $10 million. . Furthermore, the,council recommended that there should be total divest-ment rather than to keep a few token shares to continue to pressure the companies, as groups like the Adrian Dominicans have decided to do. Whether there should be total divestment or'whether a few token shares should be held to continue to pressure companies can certainly be debated. Sr. Valerie Heinonen believes those divesting should h~ld on to some shares~,or else "we're losing a forum. I don't see how we can reach corporate manage-ment if.we don't have at least some stock." When the position paper was presented to the province along with the recommendations of the Council. a large percentage (77%) of the membership responded, two-hundred and ten in all. Three choices had been offered: 1) we should divest for the reasons indicated in the paper; 2) we should not divest but continue our present corporate responsibility efforts; and 3) we should not divest and not continue our corporate responsibility efforts. One-hundred fifty-four (73.33%) voted for divestment, fo.rty-nine (23.33%) said there should be continued corporate responsibility efforts and a small number, seven (3~.33%), said we should do neither. ¯ The fact that over 96% of the respondents felt Jomething had to be done indicated, a deep concern about .this issue . Given the evolution of thinkin~g about this issue by many of us in the province, plus the growing number of groups th.a,t are beginning to divest, it is clear that this is an issue which won't be going away. In many ~vays, our Franciscan charism might have helped make our corporate decision as one, sided as it turned out to be. Y~t. whether other groups decided to divest or not to divest demands a ~erious investigation, given their charism and/or mission staterfients. All will have to face the dilemma squarely; it is a matter of si .mply bringing our faith to bear on the modern world. General Government: Its Leadership Role Today Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle's last article was "Planning the Novitiate Process: Reflections of an Anthro-pologist" (July/August, 1984). His duties in the general administration of his congregation keep him on extended journeys, but he may be addressed at his generalate headquarters: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio, 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. any general administrations of religious congregations in the turbulent times of the 1960s and 1970s must surely have hoped that the decade of the 1980s would be marked by the tranquillity, security and growth that seemed so obviously to characterize their histories prior to Vatican 1I. But these hopes will never be realized. Religious life, like the Cht~rch itself, was challenged in Vatican II to serve the needs of people in a world that would continue to be in rapid, even turbulent, technological,'econoniic, political and cultural change. The niore religious seek to live up tO their vocation, the more in fact will they be drawn to share the hope~, anxieties and frustrations of people caught up in a world of change,~ with all the consequent stresses and strains of adjustment that this involvement brings. A further reason why the status quo of the pre-Vatican II era will n'ot be reinstated is the fact that many religious congregations ale discovering that their very future is in doubt. In view of the oft-heard prediction that "a reason.able expectation would seem to be that most religious communities the Church today~ will eventually become extinct,"2 religious in increasing numbers are askingthemselves questions ~uch as: Will the apostolate to which I dedicated my life survive when so few professed are entering my congregation? Will my province survive? Who will look after me when I am too old to work? Will my congregation itself survive? 820 General Government Toda.v / 1~21 Viewing these realities and questions from the "center," many of those involved in thework of general administration often find themselves at a loss to know what to do. On the one hand, these administrators would agree with the management expert, Peter Drucker, that all organizations (including religious local com-munities, provinces and congregations) will "become slack, easygoing, diffuse" unless challenged, and that: in turbulent tir~es the enterprise has to be kept lean and muscular, capable of taking strain but capable also of moving fast and availing itself of opportunity. This is particu-larly important if such times follow long years of comparative calm, ease and , predictability.~ Administrative: personnel may also have come to accept the harsh reflection that: when survival depends on change, human institutions often tend perversely towards suicide, in times of social upheaval, clinging to yesterday's images providessolace,a 'But, for religious congregations to su~ive and grow, more than solace is necessary. "It will take l~rave and visionary change, not just solace." On the other hand, the same general administrators may feel thoroughly' inadequate to do the type of brave and visionary "challenging for ch~ange"that~ is necessary. They feel that successive general chapters since Vatican II have so weakened their administrative authority that they have little or no effective authortty and power .to challenge the congregat~ion .or even prrvinces "tO become lean and muscular." In fact, some may even fear to do anything at all, lest tha_t result in a still further whittling away of whatever administrative authority is left them by general ch~ipters. Little wonder, therefore, if such administrations are experiencing frustra-tion, adr~inistrative identity crises, a sense of helplessness. They may even"feel somewhat .marginalized, unwanted, Within the veu congregation they have been elected to serve. Some administrations accept without question a mere figurehead role, feeling that any constructive effrrts'at challenging will achieve nothing at all. Others may initiate a spree of feverish activity, but if they lack dearly worked out goals and strategies based on sound information, then such activity is without value and only serves to intensify a feeling of frustration in all i:oncerned. ~ Unfortunately, a major reason~for the feeling of helplessness and frustration is the failure of'many persc, ns to understand that the obvious exercise of administrative authority or bureaucratic direction i~ not the only form of leadership that is opeh to administrators. In fact, while varying degrees of bureaucrati~ authority are essential in organizations, nonetheless such author-ity will be ineffective if at key points in the administration prophetic leadership is laeking~ No matter how little administratix~e authority general governments have, they can and they must exercise prophetic leadership within their.con-gregations. Paradoxically the lack of bureaucratic or administrative authority can even be an advantage. General administrations should be able to give ~129 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 mgre time to the demands of future planning, to the design of carefully planned visitations of provinces, if they do not have to be involved in the day-to-day turmoil of dealing with special-interest groups and "congregational power politics.". . In this paper, I will set out some ways in which, general administrations can exercise this crucial prophetic leadership. By way of background, I ~will also summarize relevant insights of management experts into the difficulties and challenges that confront administrations of secular organizations and businesses in the 1980s. Religious administrators can learn much from such writers--not the least being that secular administrators have to :face some major issues which are very similar to those which confront the genei~al admin-istrations of religious congregations. Secular organization~ themselves cannot survive and grow without a type of "prophetic" leadership! Models of Contemporary General Administrations Three model~ of general administrations can be distinguished on the basis of a continuum where centralization and decentralization of administrative authority are the two poles of reference. The Maximum DecentraliZi~tion Model The central administration of congregations organized in this fashion have onl); afigurehead role. The superior general and councilors merely symbolize the internationality ot~ tl~e congregation. Whatever administrative powers are left to them are of no real significance at all. The Maximum Centralization Model' Organized with a minimum of decentralization, all important matters in these congregations relat.ing to policies and appointments of key administrators (for example, provincials, formation personnel) are controlled by°the central administration: Delegation of authority to lower levels i~ minimal, only in matters .of little importance. ~ This model may characterize newly founded congregaiions, or congrega-tions which are small in membership and/or have a single, clearly defined apostolic activity, such as missionary activity. The In-betwedn Model: Mininial Centralization with Maximal Decentralization The choice of major administrators and personnel (fdr example provin-cials, formation, personnel) belongs to the~provinces. The role of the general administration in such appoin~tments is of no r~eal significance. However gen-eral administration does retain important supervisory powers, the significance ¯ of Which may.develop only in time. For example, the,superior general in such congregations may have ov~erall direction in matters relating to initial formation, without the legislation spell- General Government Today / 823 ing out precisely what this is to mean in practice. The general council may have authority to approve or reject provincial chaptbr~de~zisions according to guidelines set by the general chapter'decrees. It may have the power to control levels of expenditure within provinces. It may h~ix;e thai power,to stop a hou~;i~ being Opened or closed. The~h~ in ~hich a general administration might use these powers could at times effectively influence policy within provinces. SpecifiE instances of general administration, of course, may not fit precisely . into one or other of these models. But they will tend to approximate one rather than another. The type of frustration and malaise 1 described in the opening paragraphs will be found more particularly in the first and third models. These are the models which are the special concern of this article. Leadership Challenges in rSeculal" Organizations Today In a recent article, Ronald Lippitt stated that, for most leaders and follow-ers in the 1980s, three assumptions must be eradicated.: The first assumption whichmust disappear is that success depends on a vertical model of leadership, acc6rding to which decisions are to be made at the top, and people are to obey without contributing to the decision-making. The second assumption to be removed is the belief that "doing it by yourself" is a sign of strength. The spirit of' rugged individualism must give way to the spirit of ihterde~pendence'and collegiality at all levels of an organization. The third assumption which~has no'place in a "lean and muscular"~organi-zation is the belief that "competition is a necessary motivation for achieve-ment." This assumption,' claimsLippit~ "blocks seeking help, sharing resources, and pooling' complementary abilities--all requirements for survival, growth and development in the decades ahead."5 Sociologist Amitai Etzioni, in his recent analysis of the future of American so~iety,.says very much the same thing: The attribtites we Americans need most for the next generation is an enhanced com-mitment to othei:s and to shared concerns., l say "enhanced" because the commitment has not vanished but waned, and because a larger,measure is required~if.Americans are to do with less government and yet sustain themselves as a community. "rl3e commit-ment required., is for both ego and otl~er to attend to each other and to their shared world. 1 hence refer to it as ~mutuality.TM Again, he states that American society has become caught up with exces-sive individualism: We were affluent and had a sense that we could do anything. This attitude was fed by the pop-psychology idea of self-actualization--that everyone's first obligation was personal fulfillment.7 Taking these insights into account, .we can conclude that for survival and growth, leadership must have the ability to inspire in staffs an.effective will- 1~94 / R. eview for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 ingness to share ideas, skills, in a spirit of interdependence and .collegiality. Goal setting, the commitment to evaluate performance in light of these goals, will take place effectively because managements and.their staffs feel an atmo-sphere of mutuality or interdependence. No command from above will necessarily effect goal-setting, collegiality or a ~spirit of interdependence. This point is stressed by R. K. Greenleaf: "The very essence of leadership, going out ahead .to show the way, derives from more than usual openness to inspiration."8 He asks the question: "why would anybody accept the leadership of another except that the other sees more clearly where it is best to go?" Significantly he comments: "Perhaps this is the current problem: too many who presume .to lead do not see more clearly and, in. defense of their inadequacy, they all the more strongly argue that the ,system' must be preserved--a fatal error in this day of candor.", So the one who aspires to leadership must have the knowledge necessary "to see more clearly." But still moi'e-is required than knowledge. There is needed the spark of drive, of initiative, the call to follow: "A.leader ventures to say: 'I will go; come with me!''9,, ~., The leadership exemplified here is not the monarchical or hierarchical type--types closed to opinions and information of.others--but the type we call charismatic or prophetic. The prophet is a future-oriented person. He has an-acute.understanding of new needs and new opportunities, He opposes the. tendency in all ,human organizations ~t0 treat established institutions or methods of Ol~eration, at a given point in history, as though they were definitive.~0 Leadership of the prophetic type can see beyond the present problems, even temporarY s.uccesses, and can inspire others with a vision for change and with the courage to become involved in. realizing the vision in practice. The leader, says: "'I will go; follow me!' while knowing that the path is uncertain, even dangerous." i i Leaders of this type are rare, but the harsh reality is that unless organiza-tions of all kinds can find them and place them at various key levels so that their talents can be used, the organizations and their administrations will not survive. The organizations will die, for they will cease to b6 relevant. These leaders will, inter alia, help establish the values explained by Lippitt and others as essential for the survival and growth of organizations in the 1980s and beyond. It is not necessary for those in official control of organizations to have to a high degree all the qualities depicted by Greenleaf, but what is the sine qua non of success is the ability to spot people who do have the necessary creative and ~innovative skiils~ and then place these people in the right positions in which they can effect!vely inspire change. This is What Drucker means when he writes that "in turbulent times, my organization. '. needs to control the assignment of its resources. It needs to think through Where !the results are likely to be. It needs to know the performing and productive people." General Government Today But, to utilize such people to their full potential, there needs to be on the part of those in charge a firm discipline. Potential change-agents can easily be pushed aside because people are uncomfortable with their prophetic and innovative voices. There is also the danger that change-agents will dissipate their strengths and abilities over too wide an area. But the use of firm discipline will not be~ popular, for it will demand a "systematic withdrawal of resources--money, but above all, people--from yesterday's efforts,"12 that is, withdrawal from projects that are no longer relevant and/or productive, and the systematic encouragement Of change-agents, who can guarantee the survival and growth of the organization. Patience and courage are key virtues in leadership. In recent years some researchers into how effective leadership emerges in organizations have explicitly turned to cultural anthropology for insights into the nature, purpose and necessity of culture. This has produced some very challenging studies and conclusions. The leader who ignores basic:human needs for meaning, for symbols, for clearly articulated values and goals, for identity, as these are expressed in culture, will fail to achieve a following---even in business. o Hence, A. Pettigrew, reflecting on the interrelationship between leadership and culture, believes that the process of ghaping culture is the first task of management: "The [leader] not only creates the rational and tangible aspects of organizations, such as structure and technology, but also is the creator of symbols, ,ideologies, language, beliefs, rituals, and myths."13 J. MacGregor Burns distinguishes two types of leadership. There is first what he calls "transactional leadership." This type of leadership is concerned with the day-to-day smooth running of the organization. No organization can do with6ut this type. But no organization can survive for long if there is also lacking what Burns calls "transforming leadership:" This kind of leadership is a response to the fact that all people have need of a sense of purpose, of meaning, for a vision that helps to raise them in,their work above the daily grind. Inspired by this leadership people are moved to become more active themselves, more creative in their own work.14 T. E. Deal and A. A. Kennedy in their 1982 publication, Corporate Cul-tures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life, assert that every business has a culture which has a major effect on the success of the business. In what they call "strong cultures" everyone knows the goals of the corporation, and every-one is working for them.~s People know clearly what is expected of them. This makes them feel i~ strong sense of belonging and of being valued. In conse-quence, according to Deal's and Kennedy's research, people are more likely to work harder. In companies that have strong cultures, managers "take the lead in supporting and shaping the culture," They give considerable time and energy to ,thinking about the values, heroes, and rituals of the culture," for their primary task is to manage "value conflicts that arise in the ebb and flow of daily events." 16 Such companies have bright futures. They have the resilience 1~96 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec,, 1984 to adapt to changing circumstances.~ When difficulties arise they can "reach deeply into their shared values and beliefs for the truth and courage to see them through."~7 In 1982 also, T.J. Peters and R. H. Waterman produced their best-selling book, In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Compan-ies. ~8 This study also draws heavily on the insights of cultural anthropologists. The authors list the three qualities that make for excellence in the compan-ies they researched: bias for action, closeness to the customer, and high pro-ductivity through people. By "bias for action" they mean the ability of the companies.to move very quickly in changing policy and action, "and, more important, to be continuously innovative both in making the product.and providing services.''~9 Their findings on the qualities of the leadership present in the most suc-cessful companies are interesting. Common to all leaders is what the authors call the "hands-on, value-driven style." Such leaders have the ability to articu-late and transmit to others the essential values of their companies. In this they effectively create a strong corporate culture:. "Clarifying the value system and breathing life into it are the greatest contributions a leader can make."~° In order to transmit values the leaders must be mobile, constantly in touch with the grassroots of the company. In order to keep the leadership team active and unhindered by bureaucratic pressures at the tenter, the leadership at the top is kept surprisingly small, lean. The leaders the authors studied had lofty visions which could evoke excitement and enthusiasm for thousands of employees. But they were also people committed to practical detail: "In this role, the leader is a bug. for detail~ and directly instills values through deeds rather than words; no oppor-tunity is too small. So it is at once attention to ideas and attention to detail.TM The leaders of the Successful companies did not depend on a charismatic personality for success. Rather, they made themselves into effective leaders through hard work, sustained perso.nal commitment to the values they believed in, and a certain stubbornness in their efforts to build up a strong corporate culture based on these values.22 By "high productivity through people," the authors mean "the ability top companies have of treating employees with dignity and expecting them to contribute in innovative ways on a day-to-day basis.''23 For the 'researchers this quality appeared critical. New ideas and contented customers would result only when all in the organization--not just the people at the top--were motivated by the right, values.24 In the top quality firms, in consequence, those who innovate are treated as heroes, "even though those employees are occasionally a little bit at odds with the corporate bureaucracy,"2~ The authors refer to successful cdmpanies as having "simultaneous loose-tight properties." By this they mean: that at the same time there is .very firm central direction and maximum decentralization (in fact, some of the firms are radically decentralized). General Government Today / 1127 Firm central direction is achieved by the "hands-on, value-driven" ap-proach. 'The leadership sees its task as one of stressing values crucial to the firm's culture, for example, closeness to the customer, innovation, quality. The more these values are emphasized the more certain it is that they will be realized in practice. Values which are clearly articulated and emphasized them-selves act as the control mechanism.26 Within the clear framework of these values, individuals throughout all levels of the company feel encourage.d to innovate. Leadership and Authority in Periods of Cultural Change All the above authors stress the role of leadership if "weak cultures" are to become "strong cultures." However, no author sufficiently clarifies the rela-tionship between leadership and bureaucratic authority. For example, what role, if any, has authority in cultural change? ~ John R. Sheets. S.J., provides the precision necessary for this key question to be answered. He sees a common denominator in all expressi0.ns of leader-ship. It is an ability "to draw others beyond the point where they presently find themselves to a point of greater realization of their common aspirations. It is a power to draw others toward a center of closer unity."27 He sees the role of the leader very much as Greenleaf has described it or as MacGregor Burns views transforming leadership: "While he stands within the group, he has at the same time a certain transcendence, being ahead of the group, as one who has already realized the goal to a large'extent, and who now acts as a focal point drawing others to the realization of the same goal."28 But, unlike these authors, Sheets pinpoints three fundamental qualities of leadership~ ethos, pneuma and logos. Ethos is that quality o~f leadership that is concerned with values. The leader has interiorized within himself a .set of values, and the living out of these values in his own life draws others to follow and seek the same interiorization. Pneuma refers to the power conveyed by the leader and the power that is aroused in the group. It is characterized by inspiration, enthusiasm, energy. Logos is that quality of leadership related to judgment. It is described in various ways: reason, balance, discretion~ prudence, intelligence, knowledge. Where there is logos the leader has the power of judgment how to give a "constant and consistent shape to the aspirations of the group."~9 As Sheets says, genuine l~adership involves all three of these qualities. Within any one person, the qualities are to be found in varying degrees, "very oftenowith one of the characteristics assuming a particular prominence to the point where one might be designated according to one of these, as a moral or ethical leader, a charismatic leader, an intellectual leader.''3° A genuine leader will build on the particular aspect in which he is strong and call on others to complement his efforts with other qualities in which he is deficient. True leadership then aims to evoke teamwork. "Leadership," as described here, differs from "authority." Whereas leader- ~121~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 ship aims to motivate people to interiorize new values and attitudes freely, authority commands people,to act in certain ways. Rather than aiming to attract people to respond freely, authority imposes an obligation on people to act. In periods of cultural change, when people undergo deep value and atti-tudinal alterations, authority is to be used very infrequently, and then only with caution and considerable sensitivity. In-depth and lasting change can occur in and through leadership, but such change is rarely the result of author-ity commanding action. Support at key points, however, may have to come from authority. For example,~the actual placement of a person withleadership or change-agent qualities within a group may require the official use of author-ity. So also would the removal of an ineffective leader be an ffct of authority. In strong business cultures, authority is used very sparingly, but with effectiveness and according to definite criteria. Thus, for example, the selec-tion and appointment of key national, regional and local managers is gener- .ally the prerogative of central administration. Such people are chosen because they have the leadership qualities described. Without people of leadership gifts at key levels of management, the future growth and even survival of the business would be in danger. In brief, therefore, leadership aims to motivate people freely tO change by accepting new values, new attitudes. The new values and attitudes, together with the conseqt~ent alteration in behavior patterns, effect cultural changes. Leadership also aims to develop teamwork, to involve the whole group in ¯pr°blem-s°lving' George Foster concludes his fine analysis of why develop-ment projects in. the Third World succeed or fail, With a description of the qualities needed in ¯a community change-agent: The ethic of helping people change involves restraint and caution in missionary zeal. It means that developmental personnel should be careful not to plan for people, but to work with them in searching for realistic answers to their problems . It means learnirig to be humble, to be willing to lear.n . It means a genuine . desire to help in a realistic way based on full understanding of the nature of culture and culture change . a~ Foster's research findings, and his concluding description of the qualities ~'equired in a community change-agent; confirm the.universal validity of the clarifications provided by Sheets and the other authors above. "Strong, and "Weak, Cultures in Religious Life A religious congregation is not a business organization. The fundamental aim of a religious congregation is not monetary profit to satisfy investors, nor is it to supply the material needs of customers. Neither can a religious congregation, unlike a business enterprise, fully gauge its success or failure by whether or not its "products" are being "sold." Nor ought we to consider a religious congregation to be definable only in terms of a social grouping--one, for example, designed to serve the human-welfare needs of its members. General Government Today / 829 A religious congregation has meaning only in relationship to the kingdom of God. Its members consecrate themselves to God in the Church to offer ¯. to the world visible proof of the unfathomable mystery of Christ, inasmuch as in themselves they really present "Christ in contemplation on the mountain, or proclaiming the kingdom of God to multitudes, or healing the sick and the maimed and converting sinners to the good life, or blessing children and doing good to all men, always in obedience to the will of the Father who sent him" (LG 46).32 Effective consecration demands of religious that they keep on discerning how best to serve the Church with "boldness of initiatives" in accordance with the particular and unique charism of their congregation, being prepared to drop this or that form of apostolate which is no longer responsive to the real pastoral needs of people.33 This does not mean that religious cannot, and must not, learn from all kinds of social organizations---even from business enterprises--about how to improve their efforts to give "to the world proof of the unfathomable mystery of Christ." With St. Paul, we religious believe that "we are only the earthen-ware jars that hold this treasure [our Christian faith].34 Our faith is incarnated in and through people, groups, customs, cultures. On the sociological level at least, our religious congregations, like the Church itself, do show "organizational traits which in many respects resemble those of secular organizations.TM The way our religious congregations or communities are organized may well either hinder or facilitate our efforts to give "the world proof of .the unfathomable mystery of Christ." Discernment, after all, does not consist just in zealous and constant prayer. It also consists in being open to whatever way the Holy Spirit may speak to us--including the. way that ordinary folk live and organize their lives. We should not be startled to learn that the Holy Spirit has something to teach us from what happens in the. mundane actions of the marketplace. Perhaps the Lord is. also telling us to be open to. contemporary research in business methods when he said: ,For the children of this world are more astute in dealing with their kind than are thechildren of light."~6 In businesses which, have strong cultures, goals, objectives, values, are clearly .articulated and interiorized by all concerned. People are accountable for their actions because they know what is expected of them, and they are motivated so to act. There is constant contact with customers, making it possible to see how best to respond to their needs. Business leaders are value-oriented. They value service, not just to the customer, but also to their employees with whom they are in frequent contact. Written communications are acceptable, but personal .presence to staff.at key levels by leaders is far more emphasized. Finally, innovators are 'vigorously encouraged, despite the risks involved, for innovation that is a response to customer needs is seen as ultimately the guarantee of survival and growth: If we look at those religious congregations that are actually moving into a 1~30 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 stage of revitalization, we see that they are developing strong cultures. Mutatis mutandis, these congregations have many of the marks that we have seen characterize strong cultures. There is the rediscovery of key religious-life and congregational values, together with their interiorization and their expression in innovative apostolic action.37 Apostolic innovators are valued and en-couraged as congregational "culture heroes." Leaders have articulated their values, including the values that particularly relate to the charism of the founder. In variou~ ways, and with risks taken in faith, they have communi-cated these insights and values to the others, drawing them also to do the same. They have done this not by multiplying the ~number of documents and letters of exhortation, but by going directly~ to key°groups and personnel in .the congregation, and drawing them by their presence to accept the same values and convictions.38 Through~: cooperative teamwork, these leaders have encouraged a new sense of spiritual purpose to develop in the members of the congregation. A heightened, sense of morale emerges, because clarified and interiorized values and goals give a renewed sense of meaning and direction~to members~ lives. Those congregations that are not revitalizing have weak cultures. There is confusion about values, uncertainty about goals and objectives. Those who ought to be the leaders because they hold official positions in thecongregation are lacking in the know-how and/or the spiritual courage to give leadership. Many of their religious, mainly because leadership is lacking, cannot agree on what values should be retained and acted on. This leads to more and more ¯ frustration. Often the attitude of these religious to authority is ambivalent, On the one hand, there is a cynical or angry rejection of authority in the congrega-tion because it is seen as irrelevant and powerless. On the other hand, there is a hankering ~ifter authority to give direction--but when officials do attempt to use authority they are quickly rejected. There is a failure to recognize the fact that change cannot come through the bare use. of authority, but only through leadership. Since few religious have been trained in the exercise of leadership, it is difficult for members to. understand the distinction between authority and leadership. Potential change-agents or. innovators in the congregation are frequently marginalized, Sometimes this marginalization takes place because those in authority consider them "disloyal" or "troublemakers," for they Question the status q.uo.39 General administrators may maintain a schedule of visitations in the pro-vinces, but' unless the visitations are done with goals based on real needs of the congregation, then the visits only intensify feelings of frustration among members. The exhortations of the general administrators,~and their follow-up letters to the visited provinces, come across as irrelevant, out of touch with real issues, and thus reinforce the view that general administrations have no longer any role of importance in religious congregations. Religious congregations with weak cultures thus described have reached General Government Today what is now called the "breakdownstage." If the situation is left unchecked, these congregations will die--not because the Holy Spirit has failed, nor because the charisms of the congregations have become irrelevant, but because key people in the congregations have not "read the signs of the times" and acted accordingly.~° "Hands, On, Value-Driven" Leadership For several centuries prior to Vatican I1, general administrations often obtained their identity and role-definition from the authority they could exer-cise: the power, to appoint key people, such as provincials and formation staffs; the power to visit and check on whether or not age-old and universally accepted congregational customs were being maintained. The more adminis-trative positions became institutionalized, the more the faithgospel vision of the founding persons became obscured, together with their innovative ability to discern and react to often unattended pastoral needs of the peop!e of their times. General administrations became far more comfortable with their authority roles than with the challenges of leadership. Theologically, the emphasis was often on the need for the changing world to adapt to the unchanging Church. In similar vein, the world had also to adapt to the unchanging cultures 'of religious eongregations~ The stress by administrators, far from encouraging departures from what was done in the past; was to insist on conformity to the tried ways of the congregational culture-heroes of former times.41 With the coming of Vatican II, two interconnected emphases in particular undermined the clarity of this role-definition, and thus the traditional security o~f general administrations. The first was a renewed stress on the mission of the Church to enter and influence a world in rapid change. The second was the move to decentralize the government of religious life. The Church recognized once more that it had a mission to a world in change. Yesterday's methods were not necessarily adequate for new pastoral needs.42 The Church is called to be Christ to the world. Since religious are "to be more radical Christians, in the sense of trying to live the life and holiness of the Church in all its radicalness~''"3 they must seek to excel in cohtfibuting to the pastoral and apostolic innovation that was needed. Now the task of general governments is determined primarily by the mission which religious life and each eongregatiori has within the Church, and not by the authority they may have because the constitutions say so. The role of a general administration is to call the entire corporate body to the realization of its two-fold aim: union with Christ and service to the neighbor according to the particular faithgospel vision of the founding person. The decentralization of religious-life government left many general admin-istrations at a loss to know what to do in administration.On the one hand, the theology of Vatican II insisted that religious should be pastorally innovative and open to change. On the other hand, general administrations had no 839 / Review for Religious, ~lov.-Dec., 1984 experience of how to stimulate and lead such innovation. Especially adminis-trations belonging tO the first and third models above particularly felt con-fused and anxious since, without authority, they could not see what they should do to facilitate this revitalization. Many provinces also seemed quite willing to ignore their general adminis-trations, seeing them merely as innocuous and vague symbols of the interna-tionality of the community. In quite recent years, however, an awareness seems to be growing in some provinces that decentralization has not produced the miraculous renewal or revival that it was expected to evoke. There is a vague, ill-defined turning toward "the center." But unless central governments act with genuine leadership, the opportunity thus given them will be lost. To transform a weak business culture into a strong one there must bea radical change in values, with a consequent and effective commitment to action. And if a religious congregation is to move from a weak to a strong culture, there must likewise be a radical reconversLon to a new set of values, or a return to the original values of the founder. Founders of religious congregations laad the faith and courage to enter on a journey. They attracted others to join them in showing "the Church and the world a quality of life that calls them back to the design of God in Christ Jesus."~ The outcome of the journe~ was never certain. Each religious and each congregation which accepts this new challenge of reconversion begins, as it were. another spiritual journey. This will involve, like the first journey, "an anguished and sometimes perilous exploration,"45 an adventure in faith, hope and love. Similarly, general administrations which summon their congregations to a second journey, to a process of refounding, must expect periods of darkness, misunderstanding, even rejection. Like their founders before them, they will need far more than human expertise or ingenuity to maintain the dynamism and creativity of their leadership. A feeling of identity and security in their leadership will come, not from any authority they may still have nor from any authority newly obtained from their general chapters, but from union with Christ in his life, death and resurrection. In order to utilize resources to the best possible advantage, I believe that these general administrations must concentrate their leadership efforts on four categories or groupings of persons within their congregations: -on themselves as leaders; -on the congregation as a whole; -on groups tha.t hold, or potentially hold, leadership positions; -on all who are involved in the preparation of the general chapter. 1 will no~w take each.category in,turn. Leadership Directed at Themselves "The Church is an evangblizer; 'but she begins by being evangelized her-self." So wrote Paul VI. "She is the community of believers, the community of General Government Today hope lived and communicated, the community of brotherly love; and she needs to listen unceasingly to what she must believe, to her reasons for hoping, to the new commandment of love . [The Church] is evangelized by constant conversion and renewal, in order to evangelize the world with credibility.''~6 These words apply with equal force and validity to general administrations, for these are called to evangelize their own congregations. They can do so only by first evangelizing themselves. General administrators themselves form a group which mirrors the congregation as a whole in that they come from different cultural backgrounds, have different prejudices, both cultural and personal, which interfere with communication, have different formative and educational training, hold different theological orientations. If these adminis-trators are to be welded into a leadership team in which each is encouraged by the rest to use his leadership qualities, one of ethos, another of pneuma, another of logos, then they must face the cold reality that they themselves will have to undergo a culture change. They will have to move from being a "weak dultural group" of the congregation, with each being an individualist, to become a "strong cultural group" in which each person is in fact a ,team member. Each member will have to become increasingly and personally ope~, " not just. to changes in knowledge, information, or the intellectual rationale for action and practice, but to new attitudes, values, skills, the .removal of preju-dices, and the development of mature relationships within the team itself,47 The courage and the honesty to be open as individuals to such radical changes is needed, so that a genuine administration community for evangelizing emerges, one that is credible to the congregation. This will come only if administrators are prepared to commit themselves to deep prayer and asceticism: Only in prayerful discernment will the team members be~able to discover what the Holy Spirit is asking of them and how they can help to disentangle the pure charism of the founder from the accretions of time. Faced with the demands of the contemporary Church and world, they will experience the same sense of shock as the founder did in his day. It is true that there must be serious commitment to study and to scientific methods of obtaining factual informa-tion relating to the works of the congregation and the needs of the apostolate. But such information will be of little value, will be merely "a noisy gong or a clanging bell,"48 if the uses to which it is put are not discerned in an atmo-sphere of brotherly love and prayer. In brief, if general administrators expect to enable their entire congregation to move from weak to strong religious-life cultures, they must themselves first, individually and as a group, undergo the same cultural transformation. The top priority for each administration, there(ore, is to set aside definite periods of the year in which administrators can all be present for planning, for praying together, for sharing personal and corporate faith experiences, for discerning how the Holy Spirit wishes to use them in the service of the congregation. Nothing should interfere with this priority. At times a skilled facilitator may be an invaluable adjunct in helping team members to become 834 ] Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 yet more vitally involved in their own and their team's religious-life cultural change. ~, Leadq'ship Directed to the Congregation as a Whole Superiors general and their administrations, when confronted by the stark reality ofa weak congregational culture, are tempted to react with a strongly worded pastoral letter (or even a series of them) about the need for the members to undergo conversion. Normally, this temptation must be vigor-ously~ resisted. Historically, such letters seem to have little or no effect.49 Generally th6 letters are ignored, or if read, they may evoke yet further cynicism, even anger, directed toward central government. In successful business operations in which the "hands-on, value-driven" style of leadership is used, 'leaders avoid frequent and lengthy communications from the center to subordinates. Theyl prefer to improve communication by personalizing the process on a one-to-one basis or on a one-to-group basis. However, a general administration team, after lengthy and prayerful dis'- cernment, may conclude that a prophetic communication in letter form to the whole congregation is necessary, even though there are good grounds to a~ssume the message will be rejected, even by the vast majority of the congrega-tion. Out of great love for the Church and for the congregation, the adminis, trati0n may feel the need to speak out loudly and clearly, "to uproot and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant."50 The decision to write such a prophetic challenge should not be. taken lightly: If it is done, then, as far as possible, it should be followed up with personal contact by means of general administrators in touch with key groups in the congregation. Explanations of the letter can be given, and reactions received, in a discerning atmosphere. Leadership Directed to Key Groups ,qt is at the level of key groups within the congregation that the central government's efforts at "hands-on, value-~lriven" and "loose-tight" leadership should be concentrated. In most congregations the following groups would be important to concentrate on: .-p~ovincial councils -formation staffs -provincial chapters -other interest groups ,of various kinds, such as justice and peace commit-tees or spirituality and mission seminars (some of the groups may be of an inter-provincial or international nature). It may, be necessary, particularly in the early stages, to spend considerable time with provincial councils. The aim should be to create a discernment atmosphere similar to the one needed at the general administration level, in which~provincial¢council goals are established, and objectives and strategies worked out to .realize these goals. Considerable prudence and patience are General Government Today required since provincial councils may well consider that the initiation of change is primarily the function of authority, not leadership. Or, despite information to the contrary, the councils may even deny that there are prob-lems confronting their provinces. And they may consider the discernment process simply a waste of time, "something that only general administrations have time for!", Where these _views exist, general administrators may find the challenge to act as catalysts in culture change extremely demanding. George Foster's advice quoted above needs to be recalled: leadership to be effective requires a "full understanding of the nature of culture and culture change." Those of us who take for granted the computer age, and assume cultural changes can occur with the same speed that characterizes computerized travel arrangements and purchasing, will find it very hard to appreciate the fact that radical cultural change is always a very slow process. General administrators, when faced with negative responses from provincial councils, may be tempted, like all change-agents when confronted by rejection or lack of interest, to find escape routes. They may be tempted to return to the generalate in order to "write a report" for the benefit of.the particular provincial council that is hesitant or refuses to respond. This process of writing the report will console the administrator, encouraging the belief that "something is hap-pening." But it is very unlikely that anything at a!! is happening if the adminis-trator still refuses to implement a "hands-on~ leadership approach by being present to the difficult provincial council--with the report in hand if necessary. Prior to working with the provincial council, the general administrator may well need to visit various people or groups in the. province in order to assess the level of cultural weakness or strength of the membership at large. But g~neral administrators should avoid doing what provincials or local super-iors should do. namely, the pastoral, personal interviews of members. The more general administrators become involved on the personal level, the less time they will have to concentrate on leadership at the level of key groups. The general administration's concern should be primarily for the welfare of the congregation as a whole. Normally, whatever is undertaken by general administrators must have this overall aim in mind. I believe the failure of general administrations to be clear about their primary aim has resulted in the administrators suffering from overwork, stress, even burnout. Again. the advice of George Foster makes sense: "The ethic of helping p~ople change involves.restraint and caution in missionary zeal." Formation staffs in the post-Vatican Church are under particular pressure to work out goals and methods for initial formation. The general administra-tor responsible for formation must be prepared to spend considerable time with formation personnel, encouraging them and working with them to clarify what should be done in light of definite criteria. It might also be necessary to work with provincial councils, of several 836/ Review for Religious, No'v.:Dec., 1984 provinces in an effort to develop something like an interprovincial or interna-tional training center where the best formation staff available can be concen-trated. It is increasingly impossible for congreg~.tions with declining numbers of religious and student candidates to have many formation houses. At the same time, the quality of initial formation will be a major influence on the future health of any congregation. If a reasonable development of the forma-tion program is to take place, the general administrator will.~need to exercise considerable patience, all the while being careful never to give up on the "hands-on, value-driven" approach. The closure of a formation house which has existed for a very long time, for:example, can be a traumatic experience for members of a province. The general administrator may well have to be available for a protracted period to enable their passage through this. difficult time. As regards provincial chapters, it is important for the general administra-tion to be involved, not because it wants to use whatever authority it might still have to insist on changes in legislation, but because chapters, if rightly prepared, provide an entire province with the chance to participate in a com-munal discernment process. The general administration's task will be to encourage provincial councils to adopt the discernment process both by way of preparation and during the actual chapter.S~ If some provinces have uged only parliamentary debating and 16bbying systems, it will not be° easy to convince them' of the advantages of communal discernment processes.52 General administrations have the chance also of bringing to the provinces at such times an overview of religious life in general and of the state of,their own congregation in particular, which provinces are m danger of forgetting their discernment processes. General administratoi's, when presefit at chapters, can help to counter narrow nationalistic or parochial attitudes whiizh can so easily develop in provinces to the detriment of their work of evangelization. Meetings of religious from particular interest groups often attract many of thoseoinvolved in apostolic reflection and innovation. These religious can encourage one another at such meetings, and stimulate the prophetic people among them to new forms of apostolic action. At times, the general administration itself can sponsor regional or interna-tional gatherings of concerned religious to reflect on subjects of fundamental importance for cultural change of the congregation, for example, the charism of the congregation, and its history and relevance for the work of evangeliza-tion, the relationship between the congregation's charism and the Church's call for more involvement in justice and peace issues. There is every chance that from these gatherings will emerge individuals with the type of leadership necessary for the survival and growth of the congregation. Leadership in Preparing the General Chapter The general chapter of a congregation is meant to ~:enew and protect the spiritual patrimony of the institute. It should be ~ moment of grace, of the General Government Todqy ] 837 action of the H01y Spirit in a congregation provided there is adequate prepa-ration, an atmosphere of communal prayerful discernment during the chapter itself, and a planned follow-up after the chapter.53 The task of the general chapter is to challenge the congregation to face the future. For this purpose the goals of the institute must be evaluated (and if necessary, reformulated) in ligh! of changing pastoral needs, of the theology of mission, of the charism of the congregation and its human and spiritual resources. The means to realize these goals must be evaluated and, if necessary, changed. ~For example, the chapter must decide whether or not a congregation of the first or third models described above can realize its apostolic and religious life goals if the central government has little or no authority to complement its leadership role. For the sake of the overall good of the congre-gation, should central government have an important role in the choice of provincials and formation staffs--that is, in the appointment of key change-agents in the congregation? Remember, of course, that in successful business operations the leadership rarely uses authority. But it does use authority to appoint key staff throughout the organization, after considerable consultation of those who know the candidates. But a more fundamental question must be answered by the general chap-ter. What form of government and what kind of authority should it have if t.he congregation is to realize its primary purpose of service to the People of God? No general chapter can face such questions, nor do what it is supposed to do~ without thorough preparation. Too often general chapters are considered the work only of the capitulants, not of the congregation as a whole. When this happens, the general chapter will have little or no practical impact on the religious-life cultural change of the institute. There is' little sense in having a chapter if the whole congregation does not own it from beginning to end, that is, from the time of preparation through to and including the implementation stage. The general administration has a most crucial role to play in stimulating the whole congregation to become involved in preparing for the chapter t~hrough prayer, study, reflection, and dialog.54 This will be a demanding and time-consuming task, especially if the failure of previous general chapters has left people feeling cynical, apathetic, even angry about being invited to be involved in preparatory work. For this reason, it may be necessary for the general administration to initiate the planning of the chapter many months, even a year or two, before the chapter is due to ~begin. The follow-through after the chapter has ended is as important as the preparation, though this stage is likely to be overlooked for two reasons. Capitulants may feel the enthusiasm of the chapter experience itself will be enough to guarantee an automatic post-chapter follow-through by the con-gregation as a whole. But enthusiasm alone at a chapter will ensure, nothing. Secondly, an entirely new general administration may be elected at the chapter. It may not immediately have the skills or the coherence for teamwork 838 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 even to see that the follow-through stage must be planned and implemented immediately after the chapter. Hence, as a service to the whole congregation, the outgoing administration, drawing on its own experience, could,suggest to the chapter itself or to the new administration several alternative plans for the post-chapter follow-through. , The purpose of religious government is "the building of a united commun-ity in Christ in which God is sought and loved before all things, and the mission of Christ is generously accomplished."55 With this purpose in mind~ the general chapter must elect the superior general and ~the assistants~ The election is a dramatic moment in the cultural-change process of a general congregation, the process in which the institute is trying to deepen its religious-life values. The outgoing general administration cannot, and must not, seek to influence capitulants to vote for certain people. But, if its evangelizing presence has had an.impact over its years of government, then the capitulants will be aware:of what they should expect to find in members chosen for the new administration~ The primary question for the voters should be: Who ,has the leadership qualities necessary to be of service to the whole congregatio, n?°A .person may be able to speak many languages, but if he or she lacks leadership qualities, then voters should automatically consider other candidates. Since general administrators are to be at the service of the whole congregation, the folio.wing question should not even be considered: Will he or she better represent my province? Summary By way of summary, what particular points should general administra-tions be sensitive to if they are to exercise effective leadership? Firstly, culture change is a complex, slow and often painful process, requiring new values, attitudes and behavior patterns. Since revitalization of a religious congregation involves a cultural change, one in which the institute moves from a weak to a strong culture, the process will be slow and painful. The pain will be salvific if individuals and communities approach change in a prayerfully discerning way. Secondly, general administrations are called to lead their congregations to revitalization. They do this by articulating and communicating the values which form the foundation of the religious-life culture change of the congrega-tion. This means that in implementing the "hands-on, value-driven" and '~loose-tight" principles of leadership, general administrators must .resist the temptation to solve problems for people~ Their overriding task is to communi-cate the values in light of which the congregations' members themselves decide ¯ freely what to do. Thirdly, in order to communicate values and to guarantee that they tak+ deeper and deeper roots within the congregation,general administrators must be in as frequent personal contact with provincial administrations and key General Government Today / 839 groups in the provinces as is possible. They cannot lead by remaining in the generalate. Strong administrative discipline is required to prevent central governments from assuming administrative responsibilities that would hinder or prevent general administrators from being in the field. Planned follow-up visits are required by general administrators to provincial councils and other key groups at various stages after important planning sessions have been held. This would help the development of an accountability process. The more successful, over time, that the communication of values is, the less frequent will the visits have to be. Fourthly, implicit in all that has been said is the assumption that the primary concern of the general administrators is the corporate well-being of the congregation. General administrators should not normally take over the personal, pastoral visitations of each religious by the provincials. The more they become personally involved in this type of ministry, themselves, the less time and energy they have for their primary task. Fifthly, general administrators should constantly be on the lookout for potential or actual innovators, prophetic figures, congregational "heroes," who, ~f rightly placed, would have the ability to summon others to reconversion. Conclusion Many general administrations today are confused about how to lead their congregations through the processes of revitalization. It is true that "leader-ship styles of the past will no longer be functional or useful.''56" But the challenges that general administrations face today are not unique to them. Survival and growth are not automatic for secular organizations and busi-nesses either. General administrations of .religious congregations, especially those which need revitalization or reconversion, can learn much from the style and methods of the leaders of successful businesses and other secular organizations¯ ~ General administrators are to lead, not by taking more and more respon-sibilities from the provinces, nor by trying to coerce people into reconversion through the use of some form of authority, but by clarifying, articulating and transmitting the congregation's values and goals to all members. Their task is to build strong religious-life cultures, in which congregational "heroes," inno-vators, refounders, prophets, are valued people. The stress is on working with, not for members of the congregation. The basic and primary skill required of general administrators as leaders is the ability to work with others, first and most of all with each other, so that teamwork emerges, and then with key groups and personnel in the provincesP7 They will be evangelizer~ to their own congregation to the degree that they, as a team and as individuals, are open to evangelization themselves. They must strive to be specialists in their own congregation "in the sense of expe-riencing God more vividly in the following of Christ and making that expe-rience the basis" for the evangelization of their fellow religiousP8 I]40 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1984 General administrators need insights from research into leadership, skills and expertise. But we need to be reminded that, as Paul VI notes, while "techniques of evangelization are good, [nonetheless] even the most advanced ones could not replace the gen.tle action of the Spirit. The most perfect prepa-ration of the evangelizer has no effect without the Holy Spirit. Without the Holy Spirit the m.ost convincing dialectic has no power over the heart of man. Without him the most highly developed schemas resting on a truly sociglogi-cal or psychological basis are quic, kly seen to be quite valueless."59 NOTES ~See The Church in the Modern World, I. 2See Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. and Lawrence J. Cada. S.M., ~The Recovery of Religious Life" in REVIEW FoR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 34, No. 5, 1975, p. 706. 3Managing in Turbulent Times (London: Pan, 1980), p. 43. 4E. Ward, "Christian Missions--Survival: in What Forms" in International Bulletin of Mission-ary Research. 1982, p. 8. 5Ronald Lippitt, "The Changing Leader-Follower Relationships of the 1980s" in The Journal of Applied Behavioral Science, Vol. 18, No. 3, 1982, p. 397. 6Amitai Etzioni, An Immodest Agenda: Rebuilding America Before the21st Century (N.Y.: McGraw-Hill, 1983), p. 26f. 7Amitai Etzioni, "U.S. Needs a 'Moral and Social Recovery'" in U.S. News & Worm Report, 9 Jan. 1984, p. 591- SRobert K. Greenleaf, Servant ~Leadership: A Journey into the Nature "of Legitimate Power and Greatness (N.Y.I Paulist Press, 1977). p. 15. 91bid. ~0See Roger Aubert (Ed). Prophets in the Church (N.Y.: Paulist Press, 1968), p. 2. ~Robert K. Greenleaf, op. cit., p. 15. ~2Peter Drucker. op. cit., p. 43. ~3Cited by Thomas~ J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman Jr: In S~arch of Excellence: Lessons from America's,Best-Run Companies (N.Y.: Harper & Row, 1982), p. 104. ~4See James MacGregor Burns, Leadership (N.Y.: Harper & Row, 1978)., ~5(Reading. Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1.9~2), p. 15f. ~Ibid. p. 141. ~71bid, p. 196. A Similar cultural approach to management analysis is to be found in Richard Tanner Pascale and Anthony G. Athos. The Art of Japanese Management (l:ondon: Allen Lane. 1982). ~sOp. cit. ~gThomas J. Peters, "Well-Run Companies: The Secret of Success" in U.S. News & Worm Report, 10 Oct. 1983, p. 74. -'0Thomas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman. Jr. op. cit., p. 291. e :qbid. p. 287. ~-'See op, cit., p. 288. -'3Thomas J. Peiers. "Well-Run Companies: The Secret of Success," p. 74. 24See Thomas J. Peters and Robert,H, Waterman, Jr. op. cit., p. 310. ¯ ~-5Thomas J. Peters, "Well-Run Companies: The Secret of Success," p. 75. -'6See T.homas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman, Jr. op. cit. p. 318. 27"A Discussion on Leadership and Autfiority" in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits (St. Louis: American Assistancy Seminar on Jesuit Spirituality; 1972), Vol. IV. No. 2~, p. 55. ~Slbid, p. 56. -'91bid. p. 58. -~01bid. 3~ Traditional Cultures: And the Impact of Technological Change (N.Y2 ~Harper. 1962), p. 269. This text is further explained by Gerald A. Arbuckle in The Role of Change-Agents in Devel- General Government Today / 1141 opment (Sydney: Action for World Development, 1972). a2Mutuae Relationes (Rome: S.C. for Religious and for Secular Institutes & S.C. for Bishops. !978): par. 10. ~lbid. par. 12 -~2 Co 4:7. 3~Mady A. Thung, The Precarious Organization." Sociological ~cplorations of the Church's Mission and Structur~ (The Hague: Mouton, 1976), p. I. For relevant sociological analyses of Church structures and management, see: Alvin J. Lindgren and Norman Shawchuck, Manage-ment for Your Church: How to Realize ),our Church's Potential Through a Systems Approach (Nashville: Abingdon, 1977); Lyle E. Schaller, Effective Church Planning (Nashville: Abifigdon, 1979); Peter E Rudge, Ministry and Management." The Stud), of Ecclesiastical Administrations (London: Tavistock. 1968). -~6Lk 16:18. 37See Lawrence Cada, 'S.M., Raymond Fit~., S.M., Gertrude Foley. S.C. Thomas Giardino, S.M., and Carol Lichetenberg, S.N.D. de N. Shaping the Coming Age of Religious life (N.Y.: Seabury Pr~ess, 1979), p. 60. ~SFor helpful historical insights ~ee Raymond Hostie, S.J., The Life and Death of Religious Orders: A Psycho-Sociological Approach (Washington: Cara, 1983), pp. 276-281. 39See J. P. Donero, F.S.C. and T. D. Frary, New Responses in Religious Life (N.Y.: Alba House, 1979), pp. 20-22. 4°See Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. and Lawrence J. Cada. S.M., "The Recovery of Rdligious Life." 4~For relevant comments see Thomas More Page, C.F.X., "Managing and Planning Change in Religious Institutes" in REvIEw I:OR REI:~G~OUS, Vol. 31, No. 3, 1972, pp. 386-401. 42The most challenging restatement of this emphasis is to be found in the Apostolic Exhortation of Paul VI, ten years after Vatican II, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 1975, nn. 18, 20, 63. 43Leonardo Boff,,O.F.M~:, God's Witnesses in the Heart of the WorM(Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Sl~irituality, 1981). p. 226. '~F. J. Moloney, S.D.B., Disciples and Prophets: A Bibfical Model for the Religious Life (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1980), p. 169. 45Quoted by Paul V. Robb, S.J. in "Conversion as a Human Experience" in St.udies in the Spirituality of Jesuits (St, Louis: American Assistancy Seminar on Jesuit Spirituality, 1982), p. 4. ~Op. cir., par. 15. ~TSee for helpful comments.'John Adair, Effective Leadership: A Modern Guide to Developing Leadership Skills (London: Pan Books, 1983). pp. 159-186. ~Sl Co 13:1': 49See Raymond Hostie, S.J., op. cit., p. 277. 5°Jr I:10. ~ For an explanation of the lg.natian method of deliberation, see John C. Futrell, S.J., "Commu-nal Discernment: Reflections on Experience" in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits (St. Louis: American Assistancy Seminar on Jesuit Spirituality, 1972). ~2Two studies by W. Biddle and L. oBiddle will be helpful to leaders in cultural change: 7~te Community Development Process: The Rediscovdry of LoCal Initiative (N.Y.: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1965) and Encouraging Community Development: A Training Guide for Local Workers (N.Y.: Holt, Rineh

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Name $ WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, f | YORK, PA , U S A. | Address \v '■I-' I I II 1II Students' Headquarters —FOR— HATS, SHOES, AND GENT'S FURNISHINGS. Sole Agent for WALK -OVER SHOES ECKERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right TJie Lutheran PuWicdtioij Society No. 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Bupt, THE KA ERCURV The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1909 No. 5 CONTENTS. ARTICLE I.—TENNYSON" CENTENARY, AUG., 1809- 1909.—Tennyson and In Memoriam 2 REV. CHARLES WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, '05, A.M., B.D. GETTING EVEN 5 E. C. STOUFFER, '11. CULTURE S G. F. POFFENBERGER, '11. NOBLE CHARACTER OUR NATIONAL SAFEGUARD. 9 PAUL S. MILLER, '10. IS THE GRANTING OF ATHLETIC SCHOLARSHIPS GOOD POLICY? 12 PAUL M. MARSHALL, '10. A COMPLETED PLAN 13 TAXIS, '09. THE WORLD IS OVER-ORGANIZED 16 ROT V. DERR, '10. WHAT IS SUCCESS? 21 E. W. HARNER, '12. OUR SYMBOL—OUR IDEAL 23 RALPH E. RUDISILL, '10. AN INDIAN SOLILOQUY 25 1911. EDITORIALS 28 BOOK REVIEWS 31 2 THE MEEOUEY ARTICLE I.—TENNYSON CENTENARY AUG. 1809-1909.- TENNYSON AND IN MEMORIAM. BY EEV. CHAELES WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, '05, A.M., B.D. |ANY problems have disturbed the human race from the very early ages. We have had men in the past history of the world, and in fact through all periods of later development and even now, asking such questions as. Does death end all ? Whence is the origin of evil ? Why do we have suffering ? Is the soul immortal ? Poets, philosophers, prophets, priests, aye in fact all humanity, have grappled and continue to grapple with these deep problems. Socrates, Plato and Aristotle were not the only ancient philoso-phers who sought to know the cause and effect of things. Thus the problem of life, death and immortality have puzzled sages. We have many poets seeking to bring to light various thoughts to explain these things. The Great Master has pointed out to us, and has revealed to us, that if we are true to God, fellowman and self, we shall inherit eternal life. He has revealed to us the con-ditions, how we may be saved, and thus receive immortality. However, with this revelation each generation is able to meet these various problems and with the spirit of truth to be able to understand them in part at least. Also where true understanding is impossible we have a faith in the Christ, which is firm and strong, for, though now we see through a glass darkly, then we shall see face to face, and we shall be known even as we are known. Thus the poets have struggled with these perplexing problems. They probably give us a better insight into the religious consci-ousness of each generation than do the theological writers. They seem to have a deeper prophetic insight into nature. Thus Mil-ton struggled with the same problems. Though his poetry is not popular, nevertheless it is classic. We find there is a deep in-sight into the problems that have confronted the human race. As Alfred Tennyson mourns the loss of his beloved friend and college mate, Arthur Henry Hallam, in the immortal poem, la Memoriam," so Milton has written "Lycidas," a poem, mourning the loss of Edward King of Christ's College. He had perished THE MBHCOKT. 3 in a shipwreck off the coast of Wales on the 10th of August, 1637. Of him Milton writes: "Weep no more woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though it be beneath the watery flood: 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." Again, Thomas Gray in his beautiful poem, "The Elegy Writ-ten in a Country Church Yard, points out the tribute to the hum-ble ones who are the strength and power of a nation and who de-part from their loved ones and the world in time seems to forget them. They are deserving of the highest praise and emulation. Thus he writes: "Let not ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Pow'r, And all that Beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor yet ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophiees raise, When through the long-drawn aisle and fetted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Emerson, our own beloved poet, came face to face with the great problem of death when his son, Waldo, died January, 1842. He wrote the beautiful poem, "Threnody," about the loss of his child. As we read this poem our hearts go out in sympathy to the poet, for we feel every word of the poem vibrating, as it were, with his sorrow. , GETTYSBURG COLLEGE f I Gettysburg, Pa. 1 | - LIBRARY - § 4 THE MEKCDBY. The first part of the poem is a true picture of the poet's grief. He writes: "And, looking over the hills, I mourn The darling who shall not return." In conclusion he writes: "Silent rushes the swift Lord Through ruined systems still restored, Broad sowing, bleak and void to bless, Plants with worlds the wilderness; Waters with tears of ancient sorrow Apples of Eden ripe to-morrow. House and tenant go to ground, Lost in God, in Godhead found." Of the poem Dr. Holmes said, "It has the dignity of Lycidas without its refrigerating classicism, and with all the tenderness of Cowper's lines on the receipt of his mother's picture. Thus when Tennyson wrote "In Memoriam," great grief filled hisieart for the loss of his dear friend and college chum, Arthur Henry Hallam. Tennyson was a man of strong character, pure and noble ideals. He is a philosopher, poet, sage and prophet. His poetry though deep and classic is also popular. He has a living mes-sage for each one. His poetry comes from a deep sympathetic heart and is therefore living and true. Alfred Tennyson, the English poet-laureate, was born at Som-ersby Eectory, Lincolnshire, Aug. 6, 1809. He graduated from Trinity College, Cambridge, the same institution from which Hallam was graduated. Tennyson won the chancellor's medal in 1829 for the poem "Timbuctoo." Tennyson began to write poetry at a very early age. In 1830 appeared a volume of well written verse. In 1842 he published another volume of poems, which showed deep thought and con-templation and which won for him a high place among the Eng-lish poets. In 1847 appeared the "Princess," and in 1850 the world was THE MERCURY. given the immortal elegy, "In Memoriam." In 1855 the poem "Maud," appeared in a volume together with the "Charge of the Light Brigade," and an ode on the death of the Duke of Welling-ton, part of which reads as follows: "Lo the leader in those glorious wars Now to glorious burial slowly borne, Follow'd by the brave of other lands, He, on whom from both her open hands Lavish honor show'd all her stars, And affluent Fortune emptied all her horn. Yea, let all good things await Him who cares not to be great, But as he saves or serves the State." During the remaining years of his life he published the "Idylls of the King," "Enoch Arden," "The Northern Farmers," "Ti-resias," "Demeter" and other poems, "Akbor's Dream," "The Death of Oenone," "Queen Mary," "Harold," "Becket," "The Cup," "The Promise of May," and "The Foresters." He was raised to the peerage in 1874 on account of his ability and also as a tribute to his work. He died Oct. 6, 1892, aged 83 years, at his home Aldworth Surrey. GETTING EVEN. E. C. STOUFFEE, '11. | HEN Eoger Craig received an appointment on the re-porters' staff of the "New York Journal," all his friends and neighbors predicted a bright future for him, and at the beginning of his career it seemed as though their predictions would come true. His willingness to work, keen per-ception and native courteousness made him a favorite with every-one, and at the same time an invaluable member of the staff. The hardest work was assigned to him but he invariably accom-plished it successfully. AVhen he was sent to interview a man he 6 THE MERCURY. usually had a story for his paper. As a result one promotion fol-lowed another in such rapid succession that, any other young man they would have caused to swell up with pride, but Craig only determined to work harder and rise still higher. He had now been in the employ of the great newspaper four years and during that time had risen to the front rank as a re-porter. Occasionally during those four years a letter went from him to the old editor of the only weekly newspaper which his native New England town. boasted. These the old man pub-lished gladly and the townspeople read them eagerly. At the village store when Roger's name was mentioned and his success discussed, old men between streams of tobacco juice, used to say, "I told you that he'd git along." While Craig was getting along in this happy wajr, the morning came when the entire world was shocked by the news that our President, Win. McKinle}1, had been, perhaps, fatally wounded hy an anarchist while shaking hands with him at the Pan-Ameri-can exposition at Buffalo. Eoger heard the news and then thought a moment. A letter wouldn't reach his home town for two days and that would be too late for that week's issue of the paper. Thinking to do a kindness to the old man he sent a tele-graph dispatch to him telling him of the cowardly attempt on the President's life. The old editor was astounded. In all his life as an editor he had never received a telegram. Carefully adjusting his spectacles he read it again and again. This surely must be a mistake. It cannot be possible. Surely no one would try to take President McKinley's life. Wo one could do that. This must, therefore, be a mere joke of young Craig's. And it was plainly his duty to advise the young man against such foolishness. Accordingly two letters left his office that day. One was addressed to Craig at his rooms in New York. It contained a warning against the danger, and a little fatherly advice concerning practical jokes. "A mat-ter of the importance of his recent telegram was entirely too serious for a joke," etc. The other letter went to the managing editor of the "New York Journal" and said that a watch ought to be kept on young Craig, for he must be somewhat beside himself. Then followed a detailed account of the telegram. In the Mid-dleberg "Chronicle" there appeared a long article saying that THE MERCURY. young Craig must have suddenly lost his reason, for this week he became seized with the notion tht President McKinley was assas-sinated, and telegraphed the same to us. Of course we are very sorry for the man and sympathize deeply with him in his afflic-tion, etc. The next morning when the postman brought in the old man's mail he saw the rival newspaper of the neighboring town had its entire front page taken up by an account of the attempt on Mc- Kinley's life. The old man was dumfounded. He might doubt Craig's telegram, but he never could doubt that newspaper. He saw where his rival had beaten, whereas if he had not been so foolish the advantage might have been his. That afternoon he was kept busy cancelling subscriptions to his paper. That night a weary heavy hearted old man wrote a long letter to the young reporter. He offered profuse apologies for the treatment which had been given him and ended by saying that he never would doubt his word again no matter what news item he might send him, he would publish without for a moment questioning as to its truth. Meanwhile the two letters reached their destinations. Eogers received his with a feeling of amusement. His mental comment was merely, "Blamed old fool. He's crazier than I am." But when the managing editor read his a frown crossed his forehead. He pondered a moment and then summoned young Craig. When the young man appeared a stern-faced manager faced him. The manager motioned him to a chair and then said: "I am sorry that I must inform you that your services are no longer required by us. I have here a letter from the editor of your home paper in which he informs me that you have been sending news matters from our office. We pay enormous sums yearly to maintain private wires, so of course we cannot allow our employees to send away what we pay so dearly for." The young man's head swam. Before all looked bright to him. In a moment all was changed. A feeling of intense anger towards the old man, whose ignorance had caused his misfortune, took possession of him and a desire to get even filled his mind. He went to the nearest telegraph sta-tion and sent the following telegram to the old editor: "At last the long-standing dispute between Emperor William and Edward VII concerning the Imperial Crown has been settled. The two 8 THE MERCURY. rulers decided to fight a duel and thus decide. The weapons were automobiles run toward each other at full speed. Santos Dumont in his airship carried Edward VII, the one who was found to be the nearer alive, to Eome, where he was crowned amid loud acclamations from the people." The next morning the little weekly came out with a full page account of the affair and two days later the sheriff closed the little office forever. And so far as young Craig was concerned, the last that was heard of him he was shucking oysters in a wholesale oyster house down along the Chesapeake Bay. *£• *&• CULTURE. G. F. POFFENBERGER, '11. |UCCESS to-day demands both natural ability and cul-ture. In the past, men have risen to the summit of human achievement through their natural ability alone. But the strenuous, vigorous and active life of the pres-ent requires every contestant in the race to be fully trained.Ig-norance in responsible positions is a thing of the past. Nature often endows a man with one talent which if developed, produces a man of genius, if neglected, degenerates him into an abnormal being. Upon one man may be bestowed strong intel-lectual abilities at the expense of his physical nature; to another may be given the vigor with small attention to intelligence; many in the present age are possessed of both qualities. To equalize the gifts of nature culture should be given the office of mediator and instructor. Culture to-day is within the grasp of everyone, whether he be of high or low birth. To all the schools of the country are open; to all the colleges and universities of the land offer their oppor-tunities. Nor is self-culture less practical; for its end is the same though its means are more severe and trying. The reading of choice literature and the associations with great works of art produce an effect upon the character to be marked as the test of the fully trained mind. Critical power in litera- THE MERCUEY. » ture is a degree of cultivation rarely attained, but when attained, it places its possessor in a position almost superhuman. The perception of beauty is another test of culture. Only a small part of this earth is given over to one's needs; the whole universe however, is within the hand of the fortunate one who perceives beauty in nature. Beauty is an all-pervading presence. It unfolds itself in the myriad blossoms of the springtime; it is beneath the dark shade of the summer trees; it haunts even the depths of the earth and sea. The uncultured man looks upon all these with a hardened heart. To the man of culture it is a reve-lation of the proper course of human action not only here, but even through eternity. The greatest attribute of culture is its power not only to in-duce impressions but to produce expressions. The cultured man is an artist. Expression may be made to the world through the medium of the brush, the pen, or a higher medium still, the hu-man voice. Speech is one of our greatest distinctions from the brute, and its highest cultivation marks the highest type of man. Our power over others depends less upon the amount of thought within us, than our power to bring it out. The ages of the world have been marked by the gradually widening breach between man and beast, the physical and the spiritual. The past is behind us, we must keep up with the pres-ent only. Future years will produce still greater changes, and through the influence of culture, mental and spiritual man will attain that perception which his Creator intended for him. NOBLE CHARACTER OUR NATIONAL SAFEGUARD. PAUL S. MILLER, '10. |HEN we speak of character and its influence it is neces-sary first that we know what is meant by character. By character is meant the composite of definite moral and personal traits which serves to distinguish an indi-vidual and to mark the type to which he belongs. Therefore, 10 THE MEKCUEY. noble character is that which, in the highest sense constitutes the man. It is very evident then, that the men who fill our executive chairs must possess noble characters in order that they may be true to themselves, true to the instincts which, with our race seem to go hand in hand with freedom,—love of order and respect for law. A man to possess a noble character need not be a great man as the world classes great men, but the man who has a true, noble character, who uses his gifts rightly and does his duty in whatever station of life he is situated. One of the most important factors to be considered in the de-velopment and acquisition of a noble character, by which the moral nature must be subjected and brought under control, is the will, by which the mental faculties are directed and energized. It is through a strong will that bad habits are overcome and habits of truthfulness, honesty and obedience are established in their stead. It is through a well controlled will that self-respect, self-control and strength of character is obtained. One of the greatest forces in the world is man; and one of the most determinate and irresistible forces in man is his will. When the will collects its forces and makes a final resolution to accomplish some act it is then that man has the power on the one hand to poison the very springs of national life or on the other to become in reality the agent of God. This nation of ours stands as it is to-day because of such reso-lutions as the latter being carried out by men of strong wills and noble characters. With such powerful forces as Washington and Lincoln to guide and urge us on, it is not only right, but it is the duty of every one of us to attain the highest possible standard of noble character. It is from the young men of to-day, those who are now in the course of their education, that our future governors, senators, statesmen and presidents must be chosen. We may assume, then, that if the seed of a noble character is sown in youth we may ex-pect the rising generation to enter this world prepared to fight the battles of life, and our higher offices filled by men who will strive for the betterment of themselves and their posterity and men who may be entrusted with the government of this grand and glorious nation. TUB MEKCURY. IT If the Englishman is proud of his country, scattered as it w all over the world, so that, as he boasts, "the beat of the morning, drum encircles the earth," if the Swiss peasant loves his moun-tain heights, if the Scotchman delights in his desolate moor, and the Irishman thinks his little island of poverty the dearest spot on earth; if even the despised Chinaman dreads to die outside of his native land, what should be the devotion of Americans to this the grandest land the sun has ever shown upon, a land where hu-man happiness is so widely disseminated, where human govern-ment is so little abused, so free from oppression, so invisible, in-tangible and yet so strong. The world is asking the young American to-day what may we' expect of you when you are called upon to take the place of re-sponsibility made vacant by the deaths of those who now occupy them. Are we going to disappoint the world and make a failure of our lives? Or will we meet the demand of the times and profit by the failures and successes of our predecessors. A nation must also possess a character if it would endure; and this is obtained only through the character of the individual. When national character ceases to be upheld, a nation may be regarded as next to lost. When such a state is reached that honor and obedience are seemingly lost, the only remedy is the restoration of individual character, and if this is irrecoverably lost, all is lost. Then let us, as a rising generation, be marked with that great feature of noble character, that moral worth and intelligence that we may have the power to erect a bulwark which shall prove im-pregnable in that hour of trial, when fleets and fortifications shall be vain. If, therefore, it is in our power to preserve this precious heri-tage, let us cling to it with a patriot's love, with a scholar's en-thusiasm, and with a Christian's hope and may this grand nation which is still part of the great universe be as an ornament of a' free people and continue to be free and which God may preserve-till time shall be no more. iETTYSBURG COLLEGE Gettysburg, Pa. LIBRARY 12 THE MEHCURY. IS THE GRANTING OF ATHLETIC SCHOLARSHIPS GOOD POLICY? PAUL M. MARSHALL, '10. HE problem of the athletic scholarship confronts every college or university of prominence to-day; in most cases it is not a question of dollars and cents but a ques-tion of principle and the future welfare of the college. Whether the moral and mental side of an institution is benefitted by the presence of men that an athletic scholarship has brought to its campus is probably debated in the faculty meetings of every school. The true and original purpose of such a scholarship was to help those students athletically inclined who were financially un-able to get through college; it was intended not for the lazy, happy-go-lucky athlete that is never a credit to any college but for the earnest student whose only hope of education lies in his athletics. Such men, working hard for an education, would probably be compelled to resort to summer ball or professional sport of some kind to carry on their college work and then if they attempted to engage in school athletics there would be the cry of "professional-ism" and "impure sports." This is the man to whom an athletic scholarship is a salvation, an inspiration that will goad him on in every line of work; the duty to his college comes first, and in after life any alumnus can point to him -with pride as a fellow-graduate. He is a credit to the institution he represents. But in these attempts to aid the worthy, the bounds have been over-stepped and the college has forgotten the kind of men the athletic scholarship was designed for; an insight into the man's character is overlooked, not a thought is given to his personality;: there is but one thought and that is the athletic ability of the applicant. Credentials of good character and moral worth are not asked for; all that is needed is a recommendation from some former team-mate or coach to insure the receipt of such a scholar-ship. This man, in his few years at college, whilst he may have been instrumental in a few victories, will probably have had a demoral- THE MEECUBY. 13 izing effect on the student body; the tendency to loaf is prevalent., for he is not interested in college work and the result is that in most cases he is classed as a special student. These specials are a drag to the institution and are seldom a credit to their Alma Mater. The man who does not have graduation in view will never take the interest in his work that should be characteristic of every college man. A college is known by its alumni. Are the men who were in college the beneficiaries of athletic scholarships, fit persons to in-fluence increased attendance and bring credit upon the college? The fact that athletic prominence brings success to an institution is undisputed, but the fact carries with it the provision that only men strong in every line of work shall be allowed to represent the college. On the whole the athletic scholarship discourages study and aptitude in any phase of work other than the athletic; is is mis-used and has become rather an easy way of spending four years than an encouragement to deserving students. To the poorly en-dowed small college that must strive in every way to exist where a few such loafers may have an infinite influence on the student body, the athletic scholarship is the cause of a lowering of every standard of the school's worth. In the university the plan may not reflect on the general student life, but no matter where or what may be the school concerned, the granting of athletic scholarships is indiscreet and not in harmony with the best poli-cies of the institution. A COMPLETED PLAN. TAXIS, '09. HE directors of The Slicem Packing Co. Limited had gathered together and had been discussing the rumors relative to the investigation of their business by the government deputies. The board room was filled with. the smoke from their cigars, and a hush pervaded the chamber. Each man was thinking deeply of the approaching storm. "WelL 14 THE MERCURY. fellows, this city is too hot for me, and I am going to take a trip abroad for my health," finally declared the youngest, and most promising director. "But, Des, that'll never do. You see that will put us in a poor light and we can't afford it," apologetically said one of the others. "Oh shucks Gordon! Poor light or not, I am going abroad. Now gentlemen, you have heard my de-cision. Do as you think best; I shall do as I have just said." So saying H. G. Desmond Vanderpew abruptly left the heated room and directed his steps to his palatial home in Madison Square. Here he made all preparations for his intended trip. Soon after Vanderpew's arrival a cab was seen to stop at his door. Vanderpew descended the wide, white, highly polished marble steps, entered the waiting vehicle and gave a last glance at his father's beautiful mansion, surrounded with artistically arranged flower beds. The carriage, after a half hour's time, finally stop-ped in front of the Past Line Steamship Co. Vanderpew step-ped out, paid the cabby and, handing his suit case to the porter, crossed the gang plank. Soon he felt the movement of the great ship and he began to breathe easier. During the entire trip he remained in his state-room, partly on account of illness, but more especially that he might not encounter any of the government officers who might have decided that they likewise needed recuperation. Vander-pew consulted maps and catalogues to occupy his time. He de-liberated as to the best course to pursue. At last he decided to go to a little town in Germany by the name of Stoburg. "Here," he reasoned with himself, "I can be incognitio, free from molesta-tion, and it will be the last place that those sleuths will stick their noses." Accordingly when the ship was docked at Queenstown, he sought the next departing vessel for the continent, where he boarded a train for Leipsic. When he ultimately reached the station, night had already settled over the quiet town and many of the inhabitants had already obtained a few hours' sleep. Hav-ing refused the assistance of a cabman, Vanderpew trudged along over a well paved street in search of a hotel. Finally, after a painfully long walk he located one and going to the assigned apartment retired, weary, yet with a mind free from fear of the tieputies. THE MEKCUBr. 15 When he awoke the next morning, the sun was high in the heavens. After his necessary toilet had been performed ,he de-scended to the large room, which was used as a bar room, dining room and general parlor. Here he met the fat, cheerful, rosy-cheeked proprietor, who inquired about his welfare. "Oh, I feel fine, and I shall take advantage of this fine weather, and go walk-ing." Vanderpew strolled slowly down the street, idly looking into the shops. At last he found himself at the end of the paved street and at the beginning of a road. "I guess I'll keep right on," he murmured. So saying he stooped, picked up a stone, ex-amined it curiously, then resumed his walk. Soon he was in the midst of one of those renowned forests of Germany. The trees stood in parallel rows. The underbrush so common to American forests had been cleared away and at intervals were benches for • the comfort of the passerby. At the beginning of the forest the State Forester was directing his busy assistants to mark this or that tree which he deemed ready for the ax. After watching the operation so new to him, Vandepew resumed his walk. Gradu-ally the place became forsaken. The sun heated the aisles be-tween the tall cedar trees, while the stirring breeze prevented the heat from becoming too intense. The trees shaded the edges of the paths and the birds filled the air with their songs. In a meditative mood Vandepew strolled on and on. Suddenly he espied a girl sitting on a bench directly to his right. Her tall figure, with its broad shoulders, plump arms and gibson waist betrayed an American lineage, as also did her almond eyes and high pompadour. "Gee! what a beaut!" he muttered, "wonder if there's any wrong in a casual acquaintance. I guess she's Dutch, but I'll be darned if she doesn't look like the best Ameri-can beauty I've ever seen. Well, here goes." In the meanwhile he had approached her. He stopped, summoned courage, and then blurted out, "Sprechen sie Deuteh?" The girl raised her eyes from her book in surprise and asked, "Pardon me, but did you speak to me ?" "Er-er ye-e-s, that is to sayy—yes!" "Are you acquainted here?" he continued meekly. "Just a little," she answered, "you see I am staying at the Hotel and am out for pastime." "How miraculous! I should say how delightful! I am also a guest at the same place. How would you like to 16 THE MERCURY. have a companion in the indulgence?" "Well, I suppose that since we are both Americans, it will not matter if we don't have a formal introduction, just this once. Do you think it will ?Oh, no," he quickly answered, sliding his arm around her slender waist, "of course not." We are co-admirers of nature." "Oh well," he continued, "I shall introduce myself and you can tell me who you are and we will be over Mrs. Grundy's objections. My name is Henry Griswald Desmond Vanclerpew of New York City, twenty-five years of age, secretary of The Slicem Packing Co., millionaire, a free and accepted Mason of the thirty-second degree, Knight Templar, a lover of sports and an admirer of Kipling, et cetera, and you? "Well, Desmond, it is strange you do not remember your old sweetheart, Inda Audrey Meredith, the possessor of nineteen American summers and two German winters, the maker of your twenty odd cushions, also your old yacht mate." "Audrey! How changed! Let's do now what we had plan-ned before your trip abroad. Will you dear?" Their lips met in common consent and silence prevailed. THE WORLD IS OVER-ORGANIZED. ROT V. DERR, '10. I HE inherent meaning of the word "organization," is al-most as old as Time itself. The principles of organiza-tion form the basis of society and government. When-ever a number of people desire to establish a principle, foster an idea or promote an interest, they must first organize. Thus a system of work is laid; disorder and inequality are pre-vented; concentration of effort, and harmony prevail. But the question that concerns us for the present is, whether or not the tendency is toward too much organization. Never in the history of the world has there been so much or-ganization. This is true in Church, in State, in Industry, but especially in social and fraternal life. To be convinced of the growing tendency toward organization, we need only to look at THE MEHODIty. 17 the Church. The average modern city organization counts its organizations by the dozen. There are societies for the old, the middle-aged, the 3'oung; for the men and for the women, old and young. There are missionary organizations, temperance, social, charitable and sometimes individual organizations. That the aims and purpose of all these organizations are praiseworthy and right, is not denied. But the question is whether there is too much organization for the moral and spiritual force necessary to keep it in smooth running order. Is the machinery becoming too huge and unwieldly ? Are we going too far ? It is evident that to carry out successfully these different or-ganizations, their plans and methods of work, each one must be regulated by its system of officers, meetings and routine of work. The regime of just one organization to be executed with any de-gree of success demands a considerable outlay of time, money and energy. How can so many survive? Some must suffer. This accounts for the failure of so many organizations. Not because the aim of the society may not be worthy nor its plans commen-dable, but the expenditure of time and talent necessary to insure its success, is too much, considering the other important and more necessary organizations to which one may belong. One cause of over-organization is the attempt to execute a prin-ciple or policy that is already being enforced, only in a more general way. To be more clear, the tendency is to counteract every particular evil, or to promote every particular virtue by a corresponding organization with its whole system of work. To attack the vice, profanity, the Anti-profanity League is organized. The smoking of cigarettes is assailed by the Anti-cigarette Asso-ciation. Organizations of this nature exist without number. Certainly some of them are absolutely necessary and constitute the best way to fight a foe or promulgate a principle. They are sometimes more effective than an organization having a broad, genial scope. An example of this type would be the Anti-Saloon League, now working wonders by its sane principles and com-mon sense methods. The scope and mission of these organiza-tions vary. Let us ask the question. Is an organization justi-fiable whose purpose and aims are already covered by another greater, more inclusive and comprehensive organization? For example, does the desecration of the American Sabbath demand is THE MEKCUBT. an organization whoso purposes shall be to mitigate its abuse or to give the laborer his rest, and so on, when the State or the Church should properly regulate these matters. This is not per-haps a good concrete example, but it will suffice to illustrate the point in question. It must not be understood that organization is not essential to moral and social reform. The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals has its place; the Civic Asso-ciation for Public Improvement is certainly a good thing; Purity organizations, Peace organizations and Charity organizations— all may be productive of immense good. But it is the sub-di-visions of these ideas and principles into so many corresponding small organizations that are hurtful. The trouble is not in or-ganization but in excessive organization. Another field in which too many organizations are undouhtedly "responsible for the destruction of the real usefulness of their gen-eral principles, is that of the fraternal secret orders. These, too, like the church and reform organizations have multiplied with great rapidity in recent years. The principles of these various orders are mostly of a patriotic, fraternal, or charitable nature; their emblems are such words as these: Virtue, Liberty, Pa-triotism, Mercy, Charity or Fraternity. One especial feature of the majority of such orders, is the sickness and death benefits. This feature really forms the basis for the large membership. With some exceptions of course, there can hardly be any seri-ous charge brought against the principles of these secret orders. Here, too, the harmful results ensue from the fact that there are too many being organized. They can not compete with the in-surance companies and the already existing secret orders of an established reputation. Frequently men unite with as many as six or more of these orders. These societies like all other orga-nizations must have their regular meetings, whether weekly or monthly, to maintain interest. Evidently faithfulness in dis-charging duties and pledges necessitates neglect of other import-ant business or home relations. As a result of this complexity many a one drops out. Consequently for lack of membership and financial strength, many organizations of this type "go un-der," in common parlance. Hence there is almost absolute loss of the money paid in. This condition needs no further comment. The multiplication of secret fraternal orders without a very ., THE MERCURY. 19 strong, practical, financial basis, is bound to demonstrate the evil effects of over-organization. Tliere is an economic aspect to this problem of organization. And the disastrous effects of over-organization frequently find their causes in economic conditions. The financial side is espe-cially referred to. The carrying out of the principles of an or-ganization incurs more or less expense, depending upon its na-ture. If it is an association for moral, social or civic reform, or if a fraternal order, it must have its official newspaper organ, its corps of workers and representatives in the field. The exten-siveness of the various systems and processes of work vary. In any case the financial funds must be raised to insure the welfare and safety of the organization. Very frequently many must suffer and finally fail through lack of monetary resources. The newspapers representing church denominational interests and moral reform are constantly making strenuous appeals for in-creased subscription lists in order to maintain their existence. The demands upon the average man's poeketbook made by the innumerable organizations are great. Only the most practical, beneficial and important organizations can survive. The others eke out a miserable existence and become a parasite on society. It is pitiable to see an organization launch out with seemingly bright prospects and worthy ideals, soon to be overwhelmned by the more solid, sturdy ones already in existence. Yet this oc-curs somewhere nearly every day. Another feature of nearly all organizations is to hold conven-tions, assemblies and so forth. These may occur annually, bien-nially or in a few cases less often. It may on the surface seem of little value to refer to this fact. But the increase of all sorts of organizations has occasioned so many such gatherings that the. people at large are coming to view them with dissatisfaetiou'- Pree entertainment at even church assemblies is no longer pos-sible at many places. The demands upon good nature and hos-pitality become too excessive. This is but one phase of the man • agement of the convention prohlem. Too much needless organi-zation with its array of conventions and external manifestations, will soon find a complaining public. As stated at the outset the whole world is full of organiza-tions. It is impossible to enter detailedly into all the different I GETTYSBURG COLLEGE 1 f Gettysburg, Pa. LIBRARY 20 THE MEECUBY. fields and discuss this problem of over-organization. Thus fir I have pointed out the tendencies along certain lines and shown the evils thereof. Perhaps in other lines of activity the danger of over-organization is not yet to be feared. The organization in political life certainly cannot be ques-tioned. The safety and welfare of a nation depends largely upon the interest of the people in the government. The sub-divisions of our own country into parts ranging from the grand federal to the county, district or municipal, form the basis for the people's share in government. Let us observe conditions among the industries and professions. Every branch of industry is thoroughly organized, and has its official organs, its conventions, its officers, routine of work, and so forth—all to advance their representative interests. These include all trades and business professions, which are numbered by the hundreds. It would be useless to enumerate them. It is only by the above methods that they can further their interests. The conditions and needs of the age demand such organizations. Take for example, the great agricultural industry: possibly no industry has ever made such strides. The methods of farming are assuming a scientific coloring, through Experimental Sta-tions, State Agricultural Schools, Farmers' Institutes and other organizations. As yet organization does not seem to be produc-ing harmful results along this line of industry. And perhaps the same thing could be said of the other indus+ries and occupa-tions. In like manner the educational and professional fields are im-proving their methods of work. Jfot thus to organize and mutur ally assist each other by new plans and good ideas, would be a cause of selfishness. Hence it is not difficult to undertsand why every week has its record of assemblies of educators, medical men, and the other professions. The tendency along the educational line may perhaps need restraint, lest too many chatauquas over-flow us with methods of work and instruction, and confuse our better judgment. A similar tendency within the past few years is the idea .of reunions. Every day in the summer season is scheduled for some sort of a reunion, varying in extent from a church denominational affair to a Sunday School picnic. Again, THE MERCURT 21 we repeat, the motive and aim are right. But are we carrying the idea too far? To summarize briefly the content of our discussion, we first note that the opposition is not against organization in itself. Over-organization tends to despise rather than marshal concen-tration of effort; it is impossible to devote the required amount of time and money to many organizations, though all may be more or less worthy. Too often over-organization becomes a matter of formal externality and lacks moral or spiritual earnestness. We need but cite the methods of modern evangelism to impress this fact. In conclusion it can be said that the formation of an or-ganization whose purpose shall be to prevent the formation of useless organizations, would be hailed as a great blessing to man-kind. WHAT IS SUCCESS. E. W. HARNER, '12. UCCESS, as generally defined, means the attainment of a proposed object. In this sense the man who makes it the object of his life to win a great fortune and does so, is successful, in that, he accomplishes what he has aimed for. This too, is the worldly conception of the subject. Hence, the man who starts in business, whatever his circumstances may be when he begins, and who, amasses a great fortune, is said to be successful. The politician who reaches out into-the political world and grasps the full glory of a politician, is said to be a successful man, in that he attains that which he has had in view. The young lawyer, who is admitted to the bar and performs his duties with great skill is looked upon by the world as being successful. But what is a successful life? It is not the amassing of wealth only, nor the attainment of high position, nor yet the win-ning of fame in one form or another. Life is made up of many-interests and the reaching of no one particular goal will neces-sarilv mean success. 22 THE MERCURY. "Wealth is not always a synonym of success." Many men whom the world delights to honor, attained their lofty heights of grandeur without ever acquiring anything of wealth. The truly successful are those who have achieved the greatest good in their respective callings, whether that success has brought them riches or not. Honor and fame are not requisites to success. Many men have reached positions of wealth, of high honor and fame, and yet their lives in the true sense have been failures. "Honor and Fame, from no conditions rise, Act well your part, there, all the honor lies." What, then, is true success ? No better answer could be given than that success is the faithful performance of all the duties of life that devolve upon us. God brings every human being into the world for a purpose, and he who comes the nearest to the ful-filment of that purpose is successful, whether he dies rich or poor, occupies a high or humble position, whether his name be known or unknown to the world. The successful are those who can surmount all difficulties, who can govern their own lives and Avho can say to the devil when tempted, "Get thee behind me Sa-tan." Men of great physical strength or those who are great in battle are not always successful, but those who are the architects of their own fortunes, and whose lives are full of kind deeds and noble acts. "It calls for something more than brawn, or muscle to overcome, An enemy that marches not with banner, plume or drum, A foe forever lurking nigh in silent, stealthy tread, Forever near thy board by day, at night thy bed. All honor, then, to that brave heart, though poor or rich he be, Who struggles with his baser part who conquers and is free. He may not wear a hero's crown nor fill a hero's grave, But truth will place his name among the bravest of the brave." THE MERCURY. 23 OUR SYMBOL—OUR IDEAL. RALPH E. RUDISILL, 'lO.* N all ages the achievements of man and his aspirations have been represented in symbols. Eaces have disap-peared and no record remains of their rise or fall, but by their symbols we know their history. The mono-liths of the Assyrians and the pyramids of the Egyptians tell their stories of forgotten civilization. They teach us sad lessons of the vanity of ambition; cruelty of arbitrary power, and the miseries of mankind. The Olympian Jupiter enthroned in the Parthenon expressed in ivory and gold the awful majesty of the Greek idea of the King of the Gods; the bronze statue of Minerva on the Acropolis was a magnificent symbol of the protection of the patron Goddess of Athens to the mariners who steer their ships by her helmet and spear. But these are all dwarfs in com-parison to our symbol. Greater than the monument in St. Paul's Cathedral commemorating the victories of Wellington upon land; greater than the monuments upon this very battlefield where lay buried the shackles of nearly four millions of men. Greater than these is our symbol—the fruit of political equality, of intelligence and virtue, of private sovereignty and public duty: it is the free, true, harmonious man of America. America. Ah! what a name! To-day we stand a nation that has uprooted slavery; a nation that has crushed anarchy; a nation that has overcome bankruptcy. How we rejoice in our principles of government! How they represent to the world the best results of liberty. De-mocracy is our nation's symbol. Manhood is the symbol of our people. Manhood is the Gibraltar of our Eepublic. Manhood, that which no ancient nation has ever fostered. Walk thoughtfully, kind friends, among the nations of to-day. You are tramping upon the fallen graves of centuries. Why have they gone? They died, not of old age but from the results of injustice and wrong. They died for want of manhood. Na-tional power is nothing. Universities are nothing. Colleges are nothing without manhood. Can America be added to this long list of republics. Can she thus betray herself ? Assuredly not. 'Winner of Junior Oratorical contest. 24 THE MEKCUBY. Search the creation round and where can you find a country that represents so sublime a view as America in equality. What noble institutions! What a comprehensive policy! What a wise equalization of every political advantage! ISTo fairer prospect of success could be presented. This is a land where competition is free. This is a republic which Mammon shall not rule. This is a nation where anarchy shall not sway. Equal rights and common opportunities have been the spurs of ambition and the motors of success. The American asks for a fair field and he becomes a Eoosevelt or a Lincoln. "Our only path is duty, our lamp is truth, our goal is victory." Who, then, are the truest Americans of our country to-day? Not the man who allows the glitter of gold to blind him; not the man who stands back and sees the liberty and happiness of thou-sands of women and children sacrificed upon the altars of Mam-mon, not he who corrupts the legislature. But he who has chosen a high ideal. Our country's appeal to-day goes forth to the humblest citizen. She has thrust upon everyone the most sacred privilege that she can give to man,—the privilege of sharing in the government and guarding her welfare. She asks of him in return to live a heroic life. No victory can be lasting, no reform can be permanent, unless the citizen back of it is just and virtu-ous. For the noblest ideal we look to Him above. He it was who taught this principle of equality. Was it not He who taught that man is worth more than money. Was it not this ideal that builded the foundations of free government as broad and as deep as this continent. Was it not this that stayed the tide on this heroic field. Such must be the active ideal of the American to-day. "Eight is right—since God is God, And right the day must win. To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter, would be sin." As Antaeus in battle renewed his strength whenever he touched his Mother Earth, so shall this Eepublic live, as long as its citi-zens follow and imitate the examples of our makers of the con-stitution and the Prince of Peace. THE MERCURY. 25 Assuredly we have reason to look into the future with hope. A hope not built upon the shadow of a glorious past, but rather upon the integrity of the average American citizen. A hope built upon the principles of equality and justice. May our citizens march clown the ages with the symbol of liberty and with the Bible for their guide in morals and conduct, let them as they lead the grand procession to that land beyond where shall be the union of all mankind, exclaim: "Forever float that standard sheet, Where breathes the foevbut falls before us, With freedom's soil beneath our feet And freedom's banner streaming o'er us." AN INDIAN SOLILOQUY. 1911. T was a beautiful night, such as is seldom seen, even in the warm summer months, in the valley of the majestic Susquehanna. The sun had set over an hour ago with a clear sky and the western horizon, formed by the dis-tant mountain tops, was still a shade brighter than the rest of the heavenly dome. Not a zephyr was stirring, not even on tha bosom of the broad river, whose surface was as calm and placid as a sea of glass. One by one the stars were beginning to peep from the heavens and smile upon the drowsy earth. Far away in the east, over the top of the mountain like a great silver ball sus-pended from the lofty home of the gods, hung the moon in all her beauty, shedding upon the earth a soft mellow light. To add to the beauty of the scene, far to the north could be heard the soft rippling of the stream, as it rushed between the rocks at the falls. The water-gods seemed to be doing their best to excel all na-ture, and to the ear of the silent listener, the noise of the waters bore something of the divine in nature. Such was the scene be- 26 THE MERCURY. fore Splashing Water as he lay upon the ground, before the old wigwam. Splashing Water was the son of the chief of the Wiconisco In-dians. Long ago his father's braves had intruded upon the hunt-ing grounds of the great Susquehannas, who claimed all the land bordering upon the great river which still bears their name. The Susquehannas resented the intrusion, but Splashing Water's father, after counselling with all his warriors, decided to make good his claim with the arrow and the tomahawk. Preparations for war were made and one dark night when all was ready, the Wiconisco braves stole forth from their camp to meet the Susque-hannas in deadly conflict. Early in the morning, long before the face of the Great Spirit began to light up the eastern sky, the battle was fought. The Wiconiscos were defeated. Twenty of their braves fell by the arrows of the enemy, but by far the great-est loss to the whole tribe was that of Splashing Water. Splash-ing Water, the pride of the camp, was captured and taken far away to the great camp of the Susquehannas on the Island of the Bald Eagle. That was many moons ago and tonight as he lay before the wigwam of his guard, he pictured to himself the sight of his father's camp. "It is true," thought he, "this camp is much bigger and this tribe is much stronger than my father's, and then too, they have the Great Eiver, but still I would rather be home on the great mountain." "What are they doing at home," he wondered, "perhaps they are planning how to come and free me from these awful men." He then pictured his father's camp. There were the wigwams of the braves arranged in order around the clear, cool spring and the great trees casting their soft shadows over the ground. There were the camp-fires, just dying out and around them lay the forms of many sleeping warriors. "How fine it would be to be there," thought he. Here he glanced around and noticed that the fires of his cap-tors were also dying out. Here and there among the wigwams the form of a dusky warrior moved about, but otherwise all was quiet, responding to the beautiful night the Great Spirit had given. "A little longer," thought Splashing Water," and they will all be asleep. Then why can't I escape?" He decided to THE MERCURY. 27 wait, for he saw that his guard, who was lying near him, was be-ginning to doze. In about an hour everything was quiet. Not a moving figure could be seen, and Splashing Water decided that now was the time to make a dash for home. Cautiously raising himself, he crept to the entrance of his guard's wigwam. All was still within. He crept a few steps farther and felt about for the bow and quiver of his guard. He grasped the bow in his hand and quietly hung the quiver over his shoulder. Peering out of the entrance, he made sure that the track was clear, then slowly crept forth in the direction of the shore, stopping every few paces, and straining every nerve to hear the faintest sound of alarm. But not a sound did he hear. Finally he arrived in the clump of willow trees overhang-ing the shore, under whose protection the bark canoes of his cap-tors were moored. Quietly creeping into the nearest one he grasped a pole and gently pushed it from the shore. When the boat was far enough from shore to be controlled by the current, he lay flat on the bottom of it and allowed it to drift down stream, in order that he might not make the least noise. When he had drifted for some time, he arose to his feet, grasped the pole and pushed the frail canoe to the shore with great speed. "Good-bye to the Island of the Bald Eagle," thought Splashing Water as he leaped upon the shore and plunged forward under cover of the thick forest. He traveled all night, and at the first signs of dawn drew near to the camp of his father. Great was the rejoicing as the fires of the tribe were kindled, amid the talk and laughter of the braves and squaws, when into the camp strode the athletic form of Splashing Water, the pride of the Wiconiscos. I H E HE RC U RV Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1909 No. 5 Editor in-Chief SAMUEL FAUSOLD, 'IO. Exchange Editor G. E. BOWERSOX, 'io Business Manager PAUL S. MILLER, 'IO Ass't Bus. Managers ROY R. ALLEN, 'II RUFUS N. WENRICK, 'II Assistant Editor RALPH E. RUDISILL, 'IO Associate Editors E. J. BOWMAN, 'II C. M. DAVIS, 'II Advisory Board PROF. G. F. SANDERS, A. M. PROF. P. M. BIKLE, PH. D. PROF. C. J. GRIMM, PH. 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 ac-companied by all arrearages. 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 MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. IN this, the first number of the MEBCUEY, since the opening of college, we take the opportunity of impressing upon the student body the importance of the liter-ary societies. The literary so-cieties hold out to every man at Gettysburg a golden opportunity for self-development. True it is, the class room is the place for in-tellectual training, but the liter-ary societies are a most useful adjunct for the training of a dif- THE MERCURY. ferent sort, though of no less importance, is here received. No col-lege man who cannot express his thoughts to the best possible advantage, measures up to the standard which the world sets up for him. To meet this demand for correct expression of thought is the purpose of the literary societies. For certain reasons, how-ever, during the past year, the college community has been very indifferent to literary work. The various phases of college life were emphasized to such a degree, that apparently the work of the societies was excluded and consequently literary spirit was very low. Now at the opening of the new collegiate year let us firmly resolve that this shall not be the case in the future. Let us go to work and strive to raise the standard up to its old mark. To the new men, we would say, join a literary society early in your course. We do not presume to dictate which society you should join. Each one of the societies needs you, and your so-ciety will be for you just what you help to make it. But what-ever else you do, join one of the literary societies. However, when you have joined, fall to work. No society will do you any good whatever, unless you work for it. Let us all, both old men and new, work for the glory of Phrena and Philo and strive to make this a banner year in literary work at Gettysburg. IT is a terrible thought that the "very glory of our civilization is the danger of our times." In the utilization of all the agencies of nature in every line of development, in the multiplication of the sources of wealth and prosperity, this country is unparalleled, and yet every element of progress carries with it the agencies of destruction. Along with the best of benefits march dangerous evils. For "vice and immorality sweep over this land like black clouds." Simply turn to the politicians of New York and we see them attacking the Governor, thus making it hard for young men to do right and easy for them to do wrong. After we have been launched into the world to win our way as best we can, the State takes no further action than to provide for a policeman to arrest us if we go astray. And then there is before us the saloon, pool-room and gambling den to invite us as participants. We have to but ask ourselves, how many men have fallen to such a degradation and answer by referring to Sing Sing where 30 THE MERCURY. seventy per cent, of the prisoners are college and university grad-uates. Why have such men of splendid opportunities fallen to such a state? We find it is because they have never endeavored to cultivate their morals or to strive for manliness. It seems to be the tendency of college men to be pusillanimous and discourage rather than encourage the aspirants to an exalted character, to taunt him with assertions hard for a sensitive boy to bear, as to his rusticity and state of being unsophisticated. How often does one learn too late that liberty with friends causes ruin, that in-dulgence is only to burst the restraints of the Ten Command-ments, the Golden Eule and the teachings of home. In this day of twentieth century hustle—in this CULTURE age Qj! fgygj-igh haste, culture has trouble to hold its own. Culture which means a liberal education, broad-minded-ness and refinement, is rivalled by our modern all-pervading lust for gold. Disregarding morality and final destin\r, what shall you do? Shall you spend your life in hot pursuit of the almighty dollar or seek those indefinable yet so easily recognized qualities, the sum total of which constitutes culture. This is the question so often confronting the young man just out of High School. He necessarily ponders, "Shall I take a purely technical course preparing me for one line of work or shall I take a general college course with the view of developing the all-around man. The temptation to follow the first alternative is hard to over-come. This fact is exemplified in men in the business world who are experts in their own departments of work, yet are lamentably ignorant as to all other subjects. These men do not have a true sense of values. They do not have the right perspective of life. They too often spend their whole lives in the pursuit of dollars for the dollar's sake and cannot enjoy what we call the higher things, because of lack of culture. As an illustration, these one-sided men can not enjoy music because they do not understand music. This fact fortifies the truism that a man gets out of a thing what he puts in it. TUP: MERCURY. 31 A man should be true to himself. If a man is true to himself, he will find time to develop his aesthetic and moral natures. Thus he can enjoy life in the full and besides the busy hours spent in attaining a livelihood can snatch a few moments from his busy life to enjoy nature and all her beauties. No matter what your profession will be, build upon the solid foundation of a collegiate course. This will insure knowledge, efficiency and cul-ture. DON'T forget the Bloomhardt literary prizes to be awarded next spring. These prizes will be awarded on the basis of literary merit. Get busy! Use your literary talent. Thus help your-self and immediately help us retain the high standard of the MERCURY. STUDENTS patronize our advertisers! The MERCURY adver-tisers are friends of the college and of you. Show your appre-ciation by helping them, even as they help us. A BOOK REVIEWS. HE Testing of Diana Mallory, by Mrs. Humphrey Ward. —Philo. Here is an interesting picture of English life. The authoress depicts the political and social life of England as few novelists can. We are led by easy stages to a realization of England's greatness as an empire and learn something of the domestic problems which concern her. To be sure, a love tale is the binding thread of the story. Diana Mallory is a true heroine. We love her from start to finish— sympathize with her in her troubles and rejoice with her in her joys. The other characters of the story are representative of every phase of English life. The Englishman in his favorite past-time—hunting—is seen hot on the chase and the parliamen-tarian playing with might and main the uncertain but always in- 32 THE MERCURY. teresting game of politics engages our rapt attention. Incident-ally we are given a picture of beautiful Italy and interesting glimpses of India and other parts of the world are obtained. The Diva's Ruby, by P. Marion Crawford. . Philo-—is a narra-tion of the winning of Diva, an English primadonna, by Win. Van Torp, an American cowboy millionaire. The scene is laid chiefly upon the continent and in London. However we are first introduced to a little Tartar city in Central Asia from which comes the ruby which gives the book its title. The book portrays the moving of that master passion, love, showing the terrible con-flict which takes place in the hearts of both men and women, the conflict between true love and the obligations of honor. The characters are of a high type except where the oriental thirst for revenge betrays itself in the person of Baraka. The plot is com-plex in that it centers about three characters instead of the or-dinary one or two. The style is clear but retarded by unimport-ant details. Moreover the language used by the various charac-ters is not altogether in harmony with themselves as the writer portrays them. We find very little difference between the con-versation of the learned Greek scholar, Logotheti, and the rough, uncultured American financier, Van Torp. All things consid-ered, it deserves to stand among the modern works of fiction. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. I•N this Drama of Tour Year's Course, Play your part without dad's horse ; This to do is up to you With just a little tact between each yearly act, In some domain take a stroll And sell ALUMINUM for next year's Role (roll). Every summer hundreds of students raake BIG MONEY selling Aluminum Cooking Uteusils. For particulars address LOUIS HETZEL, Gettysburg College, GETTVSBURB, PA. THE STEWART & STEEN CO., COLLEGE ENGRAVERS, 1024 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA. MAKERS OF INVITATIONS, PROGRAMS, MENUS, VISITING CARDS, DANCE CARDS, MONOGRAMS, CLASS AND FRATERNITY STATIONERY. P. S. MILLER, 'TO, Representative, Who has a full line of samples. kl^H, EDUCATION The times an 1 the Schools demand that the best things shall be done and in the best manner. Watermans@)FountamPen accomplishes everything that can be required of a good writing in-strument. Made to last for years of service and give its owner the satisfaction which comes with owning "the best." W From all dealers. The Globe trade-mark is our guarantee *~—^-^ school SI. Bo.lon 209 Sl.lc Si ChU."> Q V 742 Morkel Si-. San Franci*co. 1.10 5t. Jemci Si. Montreal 12 Cold«n L*n«. London GR. do Hono^-e Paris PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FUfJJVTTU^E Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. 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Issue 41.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1982. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OOS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. 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 Jan./ Feb., 1982 Volume 41 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW I"OR RE~.IGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 541h St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints shoul.d be ordered from Rt:v,Ew Vo8 RE~oIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindetl Blvd.; St. L~uis, 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. Review for Religious Volume 41, 1982 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The Art of Wasting Time: Thoughts on the Expropriation of Leisure James W. Heisig Father Heisig, of the Society of the Divine Word, is a Permanent Fellow of the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture, General editor of its book series on East-West thought and Associate Professor of Humanities at the Nan:an University. His address: Nan:an Institute for Religion and Culture: 18, Yamazato-cho. Showa-ku: Nagoya, Japan'. In modern industrialized nations, time is thought of as an investment commodity with a fluid market value. The power of time to cure all ills that the ancient Greek proverb celebrated has been drained from it to reduce time to disposable mer-chandise within our control. Some people's time is now worth more than other people's time because they know how to use time .profitably, that is, to achieve maximum production with minimum consumption. The ideal management of time is measured by cost-benefit analysis. As a consumer commodity, time is also unevenly distributed: some people now possess more time than others, which they are free to invest wisely or foolishly. It does not take much reflection to appreciate how the metaphor of "annual income,"the most Oniversal measure of the relative value of time, has crept its way into the modern imagination and laden words once rich in personal meanings with the double entendre of economic connotations. And that is as true in the world of business as it is in the world of religious or humanitarian devotion to an ideal. We hear it said that the fund~.mental shock occasioned by the increased pace of modei'n living is that shorter and shorter periods of time enable us to achieve the same things that former civilizations took much longer to achieve, which in turn produces the need for constant novelty. In fact, we do notachieve the same things at all. By submitting time and human needs to new s.tandards, the quality of life 3 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 itself has been altered and important spiritual values siphoned off as waste. The trip across the Sinai that took the ancient Israelites forty years to complete would hardly take forty minu~tes today from t~ikeoff to landing. But whereas their voyage was a.journey that transformed a band of refugees into a people of God, ours is reduced to a mere change of location that takes place too quickly to effect any but the most superficial of insights. For us, time wasted in travel, in the use of outmoded tools, and in the inefficient use of resources and personnel is money flushed down the drain. On the one hand, time well spent promises the reward of time to spare; but on the other, the time that we have saved is only of value if it, too, is well spent. The result is that leisure has become a luxury item, with less to be found among workers today than there was among the slaves of ancient Greece and Rome. In such circUmstances, it has become easy to market time-measuring devices for popular use that approximate the precision of scientific equipment. A wrist-watch that takes time to wind and has to be reset once a week is an anachronism to the modern mind. The practical advantages of such accuracy are fictitious, but the ideological advantage is very real. We are so firmly locked into the modern myth of time that the thought of unclocking oneself, even for the purposes of relaxation, has become the moral equivalent of undressing in public. The idea of time that has colonized the habits of thought that gird the institu-tions of modem society--school, church, business, entertainment, travel, health care, politics, social action--has wrought a spiritual impoverishment on our native sensibilities. The reverence for free time Freizeit and leave from labor (leisure) has not disappeared, but its motivations have shifted. The important wisdom that time belongs among the "best thing~ of life" that cannot be bought and sold, that belong to all of us as our common human right, and that are their own reward, is in peril. The expropriation of leisure by the consumer ethos is one of the most harmful ideas that pollute modern consciousness and obstruct the construction of an equitable and sustainable global community. Instead of having time for oneself, time for the earth, and time for the human race, we have become content with having time to consume the goods and services manufactured in other sectors of society. We have come to think of time as a nonrenewable resource, and lost the art of wasting it lavishly for our spiritual well-being. Deliverance from this state of affairs begins with learning to make transparent the myth of time that we inhabit unawares. And onestep in that direction, it seems to me, is to have a look at some of the things we no longer seem to have much time for. Time for Oneself The story is told of a certain clergyman who went to see the famous psycholo-gist, C. G. Jung, complaining of an impending nervous breakdown. His story was a familiar one. Working fourteen hours a day to fill up his life of service with meaning, he found only a spiritual tiollowness to his work. The harder he worked, the more tasks he took on, the more his nerves stood on end, threatening at any moment to shatter through the fragile mask of the busy pastor and expose his The Art of Wasting Time hypocrisy. 3ung's advice was simplicity itself; he was to work a mere eight-hour day, go home and spent his evenings quietly in his study alone. Unconvinced of the wisdom of .lung's counsel, but sufficiently agonized to have no other recourse, the man made up his mind to follow the prescription to the letter. He worked his eight hours, returned to the parish house for supper, then retired behind the closed doors of his study for the rest of the evening. Some time later he returned to see .lung, reporting that, alas, the remedy had been a complete failure. Spiritually he was worse off than before, and the parish had fallen into disarray for want of attention. He had done everything just as he had been told, but to no avail. "What did you do in your study?" Jung asked. "Well, let's see, the first night I finished a Herman Hesse novel and listened to some Chopin l~tu~les. After that I read some Thomas Mann and listened to a Mozart sonata. Next I . . ." "But you didn't understand," .lung broke in. "I didn't want you to spend your time reading novels and listening to music. I wanted you to be alone with yourself.""Oh, but 1 couldn't stand it. i make such bad company," the pastor replied. "Aha! Now we see the problem," said .lung. "That very self that you can't stand for even a short period is the same self you have been inflicting on others for fourteen hours a day.~ The pastor's problem and the way he set out trying to cure it both belong to a level of cultural development that can only be called elite. The freedom to opt for a fourteen:l~our work day and drive oneself to psychological tatters, and then to reduce one's time of labor by 40% for the sake of spiritual hygiene; the possibility of consulting a professional therapist and paying for the service; the ability to read classic literature and appreciate classical music--all of these things belong to a style of life unthinkable to the great masses of humanity, who do not work for ends supererogatory to survival that can be dispensed with when body or soul collapses, but work to keep alive, and great numbers of them successfully. I do not mean to imply that the man's problem was not a real one, or that it should be classified, along with cosmetic surgery and Caribbean cruises, as needs bred of boredom or surfeit. I mean only that, like all spiritual problems, its roots reach over into problematic social structures as well, whose repair requires more attention to one's own soul. Of this, more shall be said later. What 'lung showed the pastor about himself, and what many of those who share his general cultural field can readily identify with, is that people will often go to extraordinary lengths to avoid having to look at themselves without a role to play. The crises of meaninglessness.that had attacked his work spread over into his leisure because of a common fundamental bias that value can only be generated by keeping busy at a socially acceptable task. In each case, he fled what he feared would do him more harm than anything else: his deep dislike of himself. In his work, the pretense of altruism threw up a thick smoke screen, almost as if deliber-ately to cloud the problem; and in his leisure the pretense of polishing up his education protected and reinforced the hollow ideals he could never quite recog-nize as his own. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Before one embraces those words as a commanded task, they need first to be accepted as a statement of fact: like it or not, one cannot love another if one does not first love oneself. And 6 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 there is no way to love oneself if one does everything possible to avoid spending time with oneself. The pastor's abuse of leisure meant that leisure was not a freeing time but an enslaving time. Instead of serving as a re-creational balance to the creativity of his work, it bound him more firmly to the estrangement he felt between his own innermost beliefs and his outward devotedness. The proper use of leisure, on the other hand, demands the capacity to turn solitariness into solitude, not to dread it as a mere isolation from things that have value. If there are human values that daily life and work sterilize conscience against, and if those values are truly the eradicable imprint of the divine on the soul of each individual, then the deliverance of the human from the inhumanity of which it is capable begins with a transforma-tion in perspective metanoia towards oneself. And that takes time, leisure time. To be denied that time to waste on oneself, or to deny it to oneself, is to forsake redemption from the common habits of evil that we all participate in unawares. Time for the Earth A second dimension on which our~modern myth of time has expropriated the functions of leisure is that of our relationship to nature. In order to get to the core of this problem, 1 should like to cite a story from the Inner Chapters bf Chuang- Tzu, the Chinese mystic and Taoist philosopher of the fourth century before the Christian era. It is a story about a certain master carpenter named Stone and his apprentice, and how they happened one day to encounter the truth about worth-less trees. It seems that on one of their voyages the two chanced to pass by a gigantic oak tree standing by a local village shrine. The young apprentice stopped short and stood aghast with awe at the towering majesty of the tree, whose trunk he thought must measure a hundred spans in girth, and whose branches were so immense that at least ten of them he reckoned could surely be carved into boats. But the master Stone just stalked off ahead without so much as giving the tree a second glance. Catching him up, the apprentice inquired of him why a carpenter should pass up such timber, more splendid than any he had seen since taking up his axe. "Stop!" the master rebuked him. "The tree is useless. A boat made from it would sink, a coffin would soon rot, a tool would split, a door would ooze sap, and a beam would have termites. It is worthless timber and is of no use. That is why it has reached such a ripe old age." That night the oak,tree appeared to the carpenter Stone in a dream and complained of being compared with useful trees that are stripped and pruned and robbed of their fruits or cut down in their prime because they attract the attentions of the common world. "As for me, I have been trying for a long time to be useless. I was almost destroyed several times, Finally I am useless, and this is very useful to me. if I had been useful, could 1 have.ever grown so large? Besides, you and I are both things. How can one thing judge another thing? What does a dying and worthless man like you know about a worthless tree?" The next day, when the °The Art of Wasting Time apprentice heard of the dream, he was puzzled. "If it had so great a desire to be useless, why does it serve as a shrine?" This time the master took up. the cause of the tree. "It is just pretending to be one so that it will not be hurt by those who do not know that it is useless. If it had not been a sacred tree, it would probably have been cut down. It protects itself in a different way from ordinary things. We will miss the point if we judge it in the ordinary way." Let us say the carpenter Stone, with his "ordinary way" of looking at things, is a type of technological men and women whose tools have so eclipsed their direct contact with nature that they can no longer revere the world except as something "useful" for their equipment. As the tree reminds the carpenter in his dream, however, there are values that go beyond the useful, beyond the values that civilizations assign to things when they judge them to be worth our "while." These values reach deep beneath the differences that separate the human from the rest of the earth, to the point of geocentric unity that was broken with the anthropocent-ric revolt against being merely a thing among other things. They reach beyond the divisions of means and ends into which people classify everything about them. Insight into such values begins with learning t9 listen to the earth, something whose importance we are only now rediscovering after a century of industrial progress. Even so, we have the greatest of difficulty in unplugging ourselves from the apparatus we have built to mediate our way to nature. The world is still viewed by and large as raw material for human civilization. We struggle to keep our environment free of pollution because we fear the spread of disease among people and the poisoning of our food. We lobby against the mindless pillage of forests because we fear the effects of soil erosion on our buildings and landscaping. We protect the wilderness because we need somewhere to "get away from it all." These are reasons that make sense to a civilized mind, but do not satisfy it quite yet. We still want more sense than that. Increasing numbers (especially those for whom there is no economic danger involved) are finding it therapeutic to sympathize with the plight of species endangered by hunting or the destruction of natural habitats. Others are relearning to use the tools that scientific advance had thought to render into museum pieces. Something like a spirituality of the earth is coming to birth, but its douleurs d'enfantement are spasmodic and uncomfortable in the extreme. Perhaps the major reason that the developed industrial nations of the world do not yet have time for the earth is that their livelihood depends on a world frag-mented according to its utility for tools, and on a work force of specialists who literally feed off of one or the other fragment. The kit of tools that provides us with our ordinary way of looking at the earth functions not only because it represents a considerable extension of the power of the human body--legs into automobiles, voices into radio waves, eyes into telescopes, arms into cranes, and so forth, in the great caricature that humanity has made of its own image--but also because it succeeds in devaluing any other way of looking at life and work. While this has made impressive leaps in scientific and technical progress possi-ble, it has also taken its toll on the human spirit in the form of a massive addiction I~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 to packaged, processed experiences of the earth. We seek respite from the drudgery of working at our own specialized task only to find ourselves consuming the product of someone else's specialization. The woman who sits from morning to night on an assembly line at a canning factory learns to put up with the boredom and servility of her labor by concentrating on the privileges it will give her through the money she earns. Come vacation time, she happily skips into a great steel can sealed in Los Angeles and opened in Hawaii, clutching her five-nights-six-days-cut- rate-holiday plan around which she has organized her hopesof regaining some of the dignity she had to forfeit in order to afford the trip in the first place. She may well spend her whole life without noticing 'that she is being sold on the earth in entertainment-packages by an industry that depends on people not being able to experience the beauties and pleasures of nature without their help. Such contact with nature, far from helping one to recover the basic human demand for creativity and meaning in work, only reinforces the same feelings of impotence, ignorance, and strangeness in the face of the complex machinery and bureaucracy that has come between people and the earth. From the point of view of those who have forgotten that demand, such time may be considered very well spent, very useful, and very recreational. But it is not the freeing time of leisure because it does not so much as waste a moment on trying to step outside the ordinary way of looking at the earth, to see nature once again from the inside as it were, as something valuable in itself. Time for the Human Race In addition to the estrangement from oneself and estrangement from the earth, there is a third dimension on which our myth of time has expropriated the dower of wasted time, namely estrangement from our own race. We who compose essays on electric typewriters and subscribe to journals on the spiritual life tend to forget that the technology we take for granted is still experienced as an oppression by the vast majority of human beings. Consciously it is felt as the oppression of neglect at the hands of those who dwell in the economic penthouses of the global commun-ity. Unconsciously it is felt as the oppression of envy for the equipment and the life style of affluence and the accompanying disgust with their own primitive enjoy-ments. For all the commonsense wisdom contained in the counsel that money cannot buy happiness, and that more often than not it only multiplies the possibili-ties for unhappiness, both the rich of the earth and the poor are agreed that it is a misery they would prefer risking. The consumer ethos that pervades and sustains a high level of technology at the top of the human pyramid also pervades and sustains the grotesque want under which most of our kind are forced to live. - By far the greatest part of the human community has no opportunity for employing the technological tools that are now transforming the fac~ of the planet, and in many cases do not even know that they exist. Those who use jet transporta-tion are an absolute aristocracy; for every one of them there are several thousands who have never ridden a bicycle. The number of illiterates in the world still far The Art of Wasting 7~me / 9 outnumbers the number of those who even own radios; and the number of people who own television sets is far lower than the number of those whose annual income does not reach the cost of a television. The rest of humanity, for which individuals in the developed world have no time, have fallen into conditions made more difficult to escape by the surfeit that one small portion of the world enjoys. At the base of the human pyramid there are ~hundreds of millions living on the borderlands of vegetation and death, which in turn belongs to a group of nearly one billion people whom we have now come to speak of as the fourth world. Above them is the third world, over half of which lives in a poverty they have no hope of remedying, yet a poverty tortured by the knowledge that some of the race spend their lives struggling to acquire still greater surpluses of luxury, and to glut themselves with still more of the already maldis-tributed fruits of the earth. Those who are born and bred in life at the top of the pyramid have little practical feeling for the current inhumanity that is ravaging most of the race. They find it easier to imagine science-fictional futures than to imagine the present reality, let alone to image their own complicity in the way things are. They may watch documentaries about starvation in Africa or floods in Asia, but fail to make any connection when they book passage the next day for a tour in the Yucatfin. Or perhaps better, they have allowed their.questions to be silenced by the whole tangle of government and economic organizations that constantly complain of how com-plicated everything is. They may know that the budget of New York State, with its twelve million people, exceeds that of India with its six hundred million, and perhaps even permit themselves a sigh of pity; but they entrust the sorting out of injustices to the experts who have been trained to worry about such things. All the privileged of the earth know for sure is. that they have no objection to others sharing in their style of life, provided it does not make any demands on theirown appetities. Clearly, this is not enough. Within a generation we shall have six billion people on the earth, with five billion of them living in poverty. The tactic of indifference, which amounts to a war of the few against the many, kills and dehumanizes more effectively than any weapon we have yet dared to use. But it is running out of time. As the poor arm themselves with the surplus of our .stockpiles, sold off cheaply to make way for more advanced weaponry, we cannot suppose that they will forever remain content with waging war among themselves. The smaller and more concen-trated the centers of wealth become throughout the world, the more vulnerable they become to the masses of those who have been trained to be jealous of what others are free to consume. The urgency of the situation, however, is not of itself enough to guarantee the quality of any and every attempt to alleviate it. Just as time for the self and time for the earth tend to get absorbed without remainder into time for the consumption of luxuries advertised as refreshment from working time, so time for the human race all too readily gets twisted into the donation of services that perpetuate the spirit-ual impoverishment of the technological world by camouflaging it behind an 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 idiom of charity. Those who are touched with a sense of pity for the maldistribu-tion of wealth and feel the pressure to help, all too frequefitly lack the requisite insight into their own patterns of thought to realize how their aid can amount to the substitution of one form of dehumanization for another. In providing hospi-tals, schools, factories, and modern transport for the underprivileged (that is, for those denied the right to consume culture as we consume it), the donor organiza-tions narrow their responsibilities down tc~ the unilaterial sharing of goods and values. The possibility that alternate social systems, now' rendered obsolete, unproductive, and unsustainable by the current management of the world's resources, may have something to, teach the human community about liberation from the consumer ethos is pushed to one side in the rush to make amends for gluttony overcome with guilt in the face of deprivation. I1: the price of providing bread for the world is further investment in the current means of producing and distributing bread, then bread for the world there will never be. The economics of this are fairly intricate, but the direct ratio th~it obtains between the number of people who are starving to death and the increased number of organizations and agencies aimed at distributive justice is plain enough to see. A leisure that is freeing for the human race is not simply time given free of cost by the haves to the have-nots, but a time for withdrawal from the ruling myth of time. It must, in the first pla~e, be a waste of tilne altogether free of investments economic or ideological, time wasted on the whole of the race, ourselves included. Of all the forms of leisure, this is the one that has become most radically enslaved to the biases of working time, despite the way in which improved means of communication have enabled an altogether new image of the universal h~]man family. There may be no greater constriction of.the imagination in the history of human thought about world order than that of the present day face-off in devel-oped industrial nations between the philanthropic illusion of the rich nations of the world opening their storehouses to share with the poor on the one hand, and the financial illusion of increasing productivity to the point of being able to sell more goods more cheaply without monetary loss on the other. And this, too, is a mark of grave spiritual immaturity. The Reappropriation of Leisure If I have left a good deal in the previous pages to innuendo and only hints of an explanation of how leisure time has become victimized by the spread of consumer metaphors, it was not only to condense a manifold problem into a few words, but also to prepare for what 1 wish to propose by way of conclusion. Simply put, it comes to this: that only the personal awakening of increasing numbers of individ-uals to the considerable loss sustained by civilization in its forward march into technology can provide the footings for a modern spirituality, and that only the redemption of leisure time from its servility to current structures of thought can provide the conditions for such awakening. The reappropriation of the need for leisure--an unadvertised, unprofitable, and withal revolutionary need--begins with the individual or it does not begin at all. No one can stand l~roxy for another's The Art of Wasting Time spiritual conversion. No expertise can service a society with personal insight, judgment, and decision. For it is not so much concession to the logic of particular conclusions that is the point, but the recovery of the process of working one's own way out of familiar biases. This process hinges on the art of wasting time. In the first place, leisure time should nurture a spirit of resistance to the humors of resignation that poison the bloodstream of industrial society. It should increase one's resistance to the workaday bias that the submission and trust due divine providence, for having cast us into a world with hopes in our hearts too big for our abilities, should be extended into a submission and trust in social provi-dence, for having spun a web of institutions so tightly about us that we are powerless to do much more than lay a hand across our inquisitive mouths and adjust as best we can. From the point of view of the world of time where work gets done, free time that results in raising basic questions about that world is not only wasted time, it is counterproductive. No doubt a life in which leisure means nothing but filling up with comforts and entertainments the hollow gouged out of the soul by resignation to the complexities of modern life is an ideal few, if any, would Openly champion. But the fact is, the bare physical need for periodic reinvigoration always has a spiritual dimension to it as well, and in industrial society that spiritual dimension tends to vacillate between the reinforcement of patterns of passive consumption of relaxation and spare-time thoughts about better pay, shorter hours, or increased benefits. In either case, it remains subser-vient to the structures of work and effectively concedes defeat to their power. It lacks re-creativity. This is the idolatry, of epidemic proportions, that afflicts the spirituality of technological society. Second, in order to offer this sort of recreational resistance to the spirit of resignation, time wasted in leisure should be an abandon to the spirit of playful-ness. I use that word in a broader sense than either the games of children or the athletics of adults to cover not only the labor of alternative activities but also the enjoyments of repose; and in a narrower sense than sleep or intoxication on the one hand, moonlighting or profit-making hobbies on the other. The playfulness of leisure has three facets. The first of these is the imagination of possible futures in which we might be free of the oppressions of the present. If such futures are truly' possible, that is, if they are able to emerge out of the existing world by a rearrange-ment of its priorities, then their entertainment in imagination is capable of being sustained and deepened from one period of leisure to the next. This in contrast to the scattered daydreams of wishful thinking that come and go for all of us without effort or lasting impression. That is, such images can accumulate sufficient form in time to lead to the commitment to some preferable future from among the possi-bilities~ To experience such a reorganization of hope in playfulness is to experience the genesis of an ideal within oneself. Not to experience it is to keep leisure locked up in itself. And finally, there is the transition from the possible and the preferable to the enjoyment of the future in the present. This is where most people are best at wasting time, even though they may not know what they are doing. It consists in the construction of a temporary utopia about oneself where the things one values 12 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 most can be savored. It is a timefor tasting ideals of companionship without strife, pleasure without labor, crafmanship without pressure, play without punishment. The reigning fear among those who wish to protect their leisure time from being absorbed by spiritual or intellectual recollection is that too much reflection inhibits enjoyment. And to be sure, there are those whose twisted sense of asceticism drives them from one cause to the other, volunteering their services and neglecting the wisdom that comes from having a good, wasted time. At the other extreme, enjoyment cut off from reflection about the future altogether quickly shrivels up into a mere pampering of a self exhausted by labor, with the result that it becomes less and less enjoyable and more and more like the pure passivity of sleep. Some-where between the two lies the art of celebrating a world that is not but might be for a while, a world filled up with the spirit of playfulness. Third, leisure should help foster a spirit of survival in the midst of this by no means best of all possible worlds. Just as the struggle for physical survival requires ingenuity in using available resources and at the same time remaining alert to the opportunities for deliverance if and when they present themselves, so too with the struggle for spiritual survival. It requires anger against avoidable evils, sensitivity to appropriate solutions in which one's anger may be expressed, and the capacity to wait without exploding from within or being sapped of one's energies from without. One may have to buy chemically treated food because fresh produce has been priced beyond one's budget; one may have to drive an automobile to work because public transport systems have become an economic deficit to the com-munity; one may have to put up with menial labor because one's skills are not in demand; one may have to swallow large doses of injustice, stupidity, and callous-ness. But one does not have to pretend to like it or allow it to embitter enjoyment. Survival means wedding a resistance to resignation with a love of playfulness so as to forfeit neither the gusts nor the disgusts of life. Fourthly, leisure needs to infuse a spirit of the sacred into the time that we waste. When the ritual, beliefs, and holy writ of a religious tradition become fettered to the myth of consumer time, they forsake their sacredness. When they cease to cut like a. two-edged sword that denounces sinfulness and announces goodness, they dull and profane their capactiy of re-creation. At the same time, when they provide mere divertissement from the trials of working life or serve only as platforms for supporting the flood of causes that wash through the mass media with the regularity of spring and autumn fashions, they betray their meaning. Sacred time is not an investment measured in loss and profit to the current problems of a civilization. It is a necessity--the necessity to hallow the self, the earth, and the human race as a single great gift beyond all desert. It insures that, whatever of practical use may come out of time wasted in leisure, it is the wasting that is holiest. Sacred time unplugs us from our own time and opens up a horizon of all time, against which the greatest sin appears as the desire for absolute control and the greatest goodness as the grace of being absolutely loved. All of us, every soul of us on earth, breathe the myths of our civilization as inevitably as we breathe the air .that surrounds us. They are transparent, taken for The Art of Wasting l~me / 13 granted, but essential for human .life. Leisure time is like a flute that transforms.the silent secrets in the air into music. It shows us the harmonies and the cacophanies, the purity and the pollution of our myths. Without leisure, we have no way to know the air about us, no way to love back the One who made us the,mythmaking animals we are. View From Behind Tapestries look like battlefields from the back. Threads like soldiers in hand to hand combat-- who is most resilient? Arms locked, elbows out, clenched fists of knot scattered like small skirmishes across the expanse. Who is most flexible? Stitches quarrel in overbearing voice, rush to trenches, maintain positions. Colors invade each other's territory, singing violent victories of light. All clamor, all struggle, It faces the wall of faith while the weaver and the watcher . work from the front. St. Anne Higgins, D.C. 123 Franklin St., Petersburg, VA 23803 Celibacy in Africa Matungulu Otene, S.J. Zaire's Father Otene, ordained in 1977, is presently working in St. Peter and Paul parish: B.P. 1125: Lubumbashi: Zaire. This article is excerpted from the booklet. "C~libat Consacr~ pour une Afrique assoiff~: de F~:conditi:," published by Editions Saint-Paul Afrique, P.O. Box 8505; Kinshasa, which was translated into English by Louis C. Plamondon. S.J.: Manresa; Box 47154; Nairobi; Kenya. In English, it is no. 65 of the Spearhead series, "Celibacy and the African Value of Fecundity," published by Gaba Publications: P.O. Box 908: Eldoret: Kenya, which graciously granted permission for our use. ~f the reason for Christian celibacy is unique, that is, for Jesus Christ and his kingdom, every Christian called to this type of life is also called to live out this experience in the context of his own culture and personal history. An African celibate today is not celibate in exactly the same way as an Indian of today, even if both are celibate for the sake of Jesus Christ and his kingdom. There is a whole world of emotions and affectivity which permeates our celibacy very deeply. This is so true that the world we live in affects the objective and subjective content of our celibacy. Both what we hear being said about celibacy and what we experience in our flesh by living out what is said, are rooted emotions. Without this emotive element, there would be no human celibacy in the full sense of the term; conse-quently, there would be no Christian celibacy since the latter is deeply rooted in human nature and since celibacy itself has also to be incarnated. The affective life of a South American--his way of feeling and living celibacy--differs from that of an African from Zaire or Senegal. Among Africans there are a certain number of differences in affectivity. However, even if it must be admitted that within the same people there are different ways of feeling things, this, nevertheless, does not mean that African peoples do not have a greater affinity with one another than with peoples from the West or the East. After all, their cultural heritage is common. This seems evident even if there are shades of meaning or subtle nuances which are hard to express in these few short pages, which do not pretend to be a psycho-so-cial study of human societies. 14 Celibacy in Africa The cultural milieu in which the young African lives has a very great impact on his response to the Lord's call. Celibacy is surely an area in which sensibility is a very important factor, if not the most important. In fact, coming as he does from a family where marriage is viewed in a very special light, the young African will carry in the depths of his being, perhaps through his whole life, the impact of this way of thinking. It will take only a circumstance or an event to awaken in him a whole world of memories accumulated throughout his short life. The fact that his grand-father was polygamous, that his own father had more than one wife, and that his own mother was not the first wife of his father, nor the one preferred, cannot but have significance in his life of celibacy. The mere fact of knowing that in his extended family there is somewhere a cousin with five children, each with a different father, cannot be without significance. Those are his half brothers, but this entails that this good cousin of his.is a husbandless woman with children entirely dependent upon her. To know that his aunt is a prostitute with children, cannot' but have some impact on him. It is no small thing to have a deep sense of all these situations and still, despite all this, to dedicate his life to God in conse-crated celibacy. This world which I have just described briefly cannot be found as such in Europe nor in North or South America, but this is the world that has shaped the young African of whatever black African country he may be. One cannot ignore these realities and pretend that they do not have any influence whatsoever on people. For Africans the child is a reality to be treasured; and each human being does all in his power to leave behind him :some offspring, whether he be married or not married, living the life of a prostitute or of enforced celibacy. All Africans desire to have children, sometimes by any means. The young man who hears the Lord's call is living in this very world and not in any other. His' reflections and ways of thinking are rooted in the environment from which he comes, in the psycho-social milieu which surrounds him. This does not frighten the Lord just as no human milieu frightens him, because it is in such complex situations that he manages to find celibates for his kingdom. Growth in the Life of Celibacy To be sure, other cultures also have their own difficult problems in this area. I am merely showing that our way of experiencing the world has an influence on celibacy and that the cultural traditions are to be taken seriously, but without exaggeration. The young African called to a life of celibacy or religious life will have to integrate progressively within his affective life the realities which surround him without seeking to escape from them. He will do so by looking at them frankly, without panic, in prayer, in his personal relationship with Christ in the Eucharist. God's grace is always there, and this is what gives us confidence in the face of the strong temptations in this life. This young human being will have to understand that since the Incarnation, God gives his grace through weak human beings. Accordingly, to see clearly within his own being, he will have to be open with another person who has the experience of Jesus Christ. The one the Lord will "16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 put in his path will show him the road to follow and will give him courage in the moment of trial when temptations are strongest. Celibacy requires a lot of disci-pline. He will have to learn to exercise great control over his senses and sometimes to give up things which are innocuous, and to focus on the unique reality which is necessary, Jesus Christ. For certain types of people, chastity can be gained only after a hard fight lasting many years; and this can cause a lot of anxiety when it happens to people who are scrupulous by nature, yet desirous of achieving holiness. What I have just written is not rhetoric. It sometimes happens that young people are torn apart inwardly because they want to dedicate themselves entirely to the Lord but yet cannot completely control certain evil habits or certain attitudes which they find difficult to evangelize. I insist that it is a difficult fight--a fight to death--a fight which moulds a man gradually as he learns bit by bit not to depend upon his own strength but on that of the Lord who has set him apart from his mother's womb to preach his Gospel to men of good will There are less sensitive types of people who do not encounter very many types of problems in their development, but irrespective of their sensitivity, all will undergo moments when they are forced to make a decision for the Lord. The chastity that is required by a life of celibacy is not a case of spontaneous generation--it is a garden that must be tended lest weeds grow in it. When one has gone astray, one finds it difficult, sometimes even impossible, to go back; thus, it is not surprising that some young, generous people have gone astray. Vigilance is necessary in these matters, but the kind of vigilance characteristic of those who are sure of victory; for if Christ is with us, who can be against? Sooner or later Christ will defeat this devil of our middle age who likes to attack our flesh, born in the human condition, born incomplete. The young celibate, therefore, will learn not to abuse God's grace. He will be prudent; he will not take chances with his celibacy. He will have the simplicity of a dove but the prudence of a serpent. The married man who is a dedicated Christian will not flirt with other women lest his marriage, be threatened and, accordingly, his real happiness and that of his home. The same holds true for religious. They also cannot take chances with their passions and put themselves in the position of violating the gift they have made of themselves in the simplicity of their heart. Nothing escapes lay people when it comes to observing the behavior of reli-gious. They notice even the smallest detail when they want to criticize their priests or religious men and women. Some even take pleasure in judging them, in scrutin-izing their behavior to find the smallest reprehensible thing. In this way, they purify their religious, even without wanting to. Lay people are surely not gullible, even though they sometimes misinterpret the way African religious live out their celibacy. They can often distinguish between the religious who is loyal and faithful to his consecration to the Lord from the religious who is beginning to compromise and. to give in. Assuredly, their judgments are not gospel truth, and often one would do well to minimize themremembering that even the great saints were often Slandered by malicious tongues. Celibacy in Africa Certain Difficulties or Certain Illusions It is sad to 'note that many young, generous and seemingly solid religious have lost the grace of celibacy because of supposedly spiritual relationships with women religious and with young girls. There is nothing more dangerous than these suspect relationships between men and women religious, nothing more scandalous for African Christians than to see their priests, their men and women religious become involved in expressions of human love under the pretext of love in Christ.Many men and women religious believe rather too easily that they have been made immune to the weakness of their flesh. They are a little too quick to believe that they have attained the required maturity in celibacy. They sincerely think that henceforth sex has no hold over them since they have become spiritual. Yet, it is a very sad and illusory spirituality which makes man believe that he is now immune to sin. A really spiritual person, on the contrary, depends entirely on the grace of God without giving up healthy vigilance. I believe that the closer one gets to the Lord, the more one realizes that what seemed innocent until then now takes on the appearance of something that is not entirely pure. However, far from being threatened or discouraged by this increasing desire for purity, one has more and more confidence in the Lord and greater humility when one thinks 6f how little one is virtuous. In true love there is no fear. This is so, it seems to me, in the case of one who wants to respond wholeheartedly, day after day, to the call of him who has made us pass from darkness to his wonderful light. In my humble opinion, it often takes many years of solitude to be able to experience a true spiritual friendship in Christ with members of the other sex. The danger is to believe too quickly that the right moment has come. That is often when one goes astray. As for any genuinely Christian life, celibacy cannot go without suffering. There is no real celibacy without the mystery of the cross written, as it were, in the flesh of baptized people. A celibacy without renunciation, without a sacrifice that is willingly accepted, a celibacy which refuses to die like the grain of wheat fallen in the soil is a celibacy locked up in solitude and bearing no lasting fruit. There are people who are undoubtedly privileged because of circum-stances and especially because of the Lord, but let us not be too quick to classify ourselves among those people and risk spoiling the splendid grace the Lord has given to us--the grace of living the celibacy of simple people without any special favors from God, I mean without any extraordinary grace. This simple gift, in fact, honors the Lord just as much as the extraordinary gift that some of us humans might receive from God. I don't mean to say that it is absolutely impossible for men or women religious to experience a healthy spiritual friendship with members of the other sex, but I believe that some of us think that we have attained that stage when we really haven't. Often, because of a lack of restraint or a lack of real self-knowledge, one strikes up a friendship which will tomorrrow become sinful, therefore, bad for oneself and for theirs. A friendship to which we are too attached, a friendship which prevents us from fulfilling our duties is a friendship to be "18 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 purified or, better still to be abandoned while there is time; that is, as soon as we become aware off where it is. leading, the relationship must be severed politely and without human respect. This is for the greater good of the person whom we love in Christ; finally, it is for the greater glory of the one who has called us to holiness, Jesus Christ. In the same way, a friendship which would render a member of a religious order incapable of being available to do what his superiors want 9f him is simply not good. It is for the Lord that we have joined religious life, not for the purpose of surrounding ourselves with protective partnerships which go against true charity. In,his infinite goodness, the Lord may put on our path a person of the other sex for a certain period of time. This, person will enrich us through, friendship, and this enrichment can be mutual. But, here again, this gracemust be lived in all simplicity and with the necessary prudence since we are all weak, sinful human beings. Hope for Africa ~ , Certain missionaries have led young Africans to believe that celibacy is more difficult for them than !t is for young people from the West. This opinion is based on ignorance or it is a lie. The fundamental problem, in fact, is the same for all human beings; the conditions that are found in any culture are not qualitatively different. In the final analysis, it is the same fundamental problem for different people in different cultures; there are accidental but no essential differences. I have sometimes been shocked to hear this type of broad statement according to which it would be practically impossible for Africans to live a life of celibacy. For me, celibacy is rooted in faith in the living Christ. It is something which permeates the faith of the one who feels called, and faith is something which is given by the Lord without any distinction of culture or race. There are differences, but they are not so essential that they make a life of celibacy impossible in AfriCa. There are enough African religious to show th~.t this is true. Among these meia and women of Africa, often living in some isolated areas, there are men and women religious who live their cbnsecration to the Lord even in heroic fashion. Their silent example is enough to prove that celibacy is possible for Africans, at least for those who feel themselves called to it and who respond generously. Not too long ago, 1 was telling a group of young Africans the following: either we are Christians or we are not; either we believe in Jesus Christ or we don't believe in him at all. In this area there are no half measures. It's all or nothing. This is why faith in Jesus Christ requries a complete transformation of our life-style and of our outlook. One of the aspects of our outlook on life which must change because it is absolutely against Christianity is this requirement of a fruitfulness that is exclusively biological. A man without children among us in black Africa is one who does not bear fruit, who is useless and even an outcast. If there is an obstacle to the awakening and living out of vocations (and I am talking here about voca-tions to the priesthood or religious life), it is our too limited way of looking at fruitfulness. Many Africans believe that a man cannot be completely fulfilled in or outside of marriage unless he has many children. Among us, celibate people and Celibacy in Africa married couples without children are not seen in a good light because they seem useless to our society. It may be understandable that some non-Christians think this way. But for Christians this is disastrous. Haven't we ever meditated on the life of Christ? Can we ignore that he was himself celibate? Or do we believe that Jesus was not a man like us except for sin? Yet our creed is very clear on this. Jesus was truly God and he was truly man. If such is the case, why wouldn't we allow those among us who wish to live like Christ to doso? If it be true that the face of being celibate did not diminish the God made man, why wouldn't we accept that a certain number among us are not diminished by celibacy for Jesus Christ and his kingdom? Has the world ever known a being as fully developed as Jesus of Nazareth, our Love? Yet, he was celibate. Isn't this Jesus who lived without a wife and children still, even today, a source of all life for us? One doesn't lose anything by responding to his call, by becoming celibate for him and for his kingdom where we shall all have only one Father, his own, and where all of us will truly be brothers and sisters in the Spirit who makes us one. The young African is thus called to live a life of faith in Christ. He must not think that celibacy is more difficult for him than for young people in other continents. This is simply not true. Let us take the example of the West where today may be found pornographic films, sex shops, nightclubs. To live in such a world is not always easy. It requires a certain self-discipline. In order to live a life of celibacy in such an atmosphere, it is necessary to cling to Jesus Christ, to have a deep life of prayer and to receive the Eucharist regularly. The young African man or woman called to religious life will always remember that we live in a world of male and female; consequently, it is clear that we have to live our celibacy in the midst of men and women of our times and of our culture. There is nothing wrong with that; on the contrary, it is a grace that the Lord gives us by inviting us to live out his gospel in the midst of the world and not in some isolated corner. At the crossroads the Lord may put on our path certain persons of the other sex. We will welcome them as brothers and sisters in the Lord. The gospel is full of examples that show us how Jesus respected persons of the other sex. He doesn't send away the sinful woman who comes to the house of Simon, the Pharisee to have her sins forgiven. On this occasion, Jesus could have been afraid of shocking people by receiving such a woman with open arms. But the Lord was not afraid of what people would say or think because in true love there is no fear. Neither does Jesus judge the woman caught in adultery like the Pharisees who bring her to him. On the contrary, he defends her against the "unmarked tombs" who have grown old in sin and yet want to preach to others. Jesus is close friends with Martha and Mary as well as with their brother, Lazarus. Jesus has pity on the widow from Naim who has lost her son. The Lord admires the Canaanite woman's faith, and he is exceedingly affectionate toward his mother Mary, the Immaculate Virgin. In his Gospel, the Lord shows us how his celibacy did not exclude anybody. He Was completely open; he welcomed others. In solitude he prayed and he was a 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 source of joy and peace for the people that God, his Father, had placed in his path. If religious life is to flourish in our African continent,it is necessary that there be more and more religious who witness by their life of celibacy. A celibacy based on Jesus Christ cannot but be fruitful. Black Africa, which has such a high regard for fruitfulness, will see a new type of love which outstrips in fruitfulness the love of the children of this world. We, the sons and daughters of Mother Africa, have believed in the word of him who said, "there are some who are eunuchs because they have made themselves so for the kingdom of heaven. Let him who can understand, understand" (Mt 19:!2). If there is a word which has become the life of our life, that is the one. Spiritual Fruitfulness If there is a fruitfulness that is biological, there is another one which is spiritual. Any parent worth his salt knows that it is' not enough to procreate children. In responsible parenthood, it is also necessary to help the child that we have brought to life to grow untilhe has reached a stage where he will truly be an adult. To educate, to instruct are part and parcel of his awakening to human life. It takes only one instant for a couple to initiate the process of procreation. It takes only a little time to call someone into existence, but it requries many years for a child to become an adult. Whether it be as parents, as educators, or in any other capacity, all those who are engaged in human formation are doing a type of work that is spiritually generative. Any man who helps another one grow and become more human is a man who is gpiritually generative. This spiritual generation exists at various levels; yet, the spiritual fruitfulness of a Christian is not that of a non-Christian. From a Christian point of view, any Christian man or woman who awakens another human being to the life of God in Jesus Christ is spiritually fruitful. The object of spiritual fruitfulness for a Christian is Jesus Christ and his message. It is the person of Christ which distinguishes any typically Christian fruitfulness from any other. All Christians are called to be fruitful but in different ways and in accordance with their state in life. The form of life of one who wakens to the life of God in Jesus Christ is not something that is accidental. There are some who believe that the way of life--whether it be of married Christians or of "eunuchs for the king-dom of God"---has no importance in the process of awakening to life. But when one awakens somebody else to life, one does it with all one's being. If our way of life is not something external to us but a part of our being and, therefore, a part of our relationship to God, to others, and to the world, we can readily understand that this life-style is not without importance in matters of spiritual fruitfulness. In his life Jesus preferred celibacy to marriage, and this choice is not something accidental. The Jesus of the gospels presents himself to us as celibate and not otherwise, and this is part of the mystery of incarnation. In the same way Jesus was not at the same time a man and a woman. He was not both married and non-mar-ried. He was a celibate, and tfiis fact has some relevance in the transmission of his Celibacy in Africa message. He wanted to be born of a virgin, Mary, and this also is not something purely accidental or accessory in the mystery of salvation. Thus one who chooses celib~acy for the kingdom of God is fruitful differently from married people. This difference is rooted in the order of being and not of having. It is an ontological reality and, therefore, it is a dimension surrounded with mystery. The spiritual fecundity of those who live in celibacy resembles closely that of Christ. In other words, the way that Christ was spiritually fruitful resembles the way in which a man is fruitful through a celibacy chosen for Christ. Obviously "to resemble" or "to be close to" is not the same thing as "to be identical to." Wherever a true local Church is to be found, there will be found also Christians who are married and Christians who are eunuchs for the kingdom. Each of these forms of life has a great importance in the aspect of fecundity which is essential for the life of the Church. The uniqueness of the spiritual fruitfulness of a celibate for the kingdom of heaven shares something of the mystery of God made man, of God who wanted to be among us without woman or child while being eternally generative. Death Song of a Grain of Wheat Born above the earth, Beloved of the sun, Sky-held. Rain-touched. Wind-taught to dance, I know I sang of joy. Borne beneath the ground, Forsaken by the sun, Sky-denied, Rain-forgot, I feel no more the winds, And know a slower song. Yet reach I for the sun-set fires And C~rr the hidden waters. Stretched, song-heavy with the wait ' Of days too long to measure, I learn to trust the darkness That consumes me: That sends my myriad children to be Born above the earth. Sister Linda Karas. RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Sparrow Has Found Its Home At Last: A Personal Account of Transfer Anonymous The author is a sister who transferred from an active to a contemplative community some several years ago. She explains in the article why she prefers to remain anonymous. The sharing which follows comes as the result of a suggestion made to me that I write about my experience of transfer from an active community to a contempla-tive order. My first response was a hasty and hearty "No." Then the possibility of helping any individual or community involved in a similar experience crept into my prayer and thinking. The good which might be achieved seemed to outweigh my natural reticence and my disinclinatio.n to discuss the subject. I have not taken any polls, nor have I statistics. I personally know exactly six solemnly professed nuns and a few people in formation who transferred from active to contemplative life. However, one would'have to have lived on a remote Pacific atoll for the last several years not to know that transfers are on the increase. What follows is not a scholarly analysis of the phenomenon of transfer. It is just my own experience and an endeavor to share what ! have learned. The reason for my choosing anonymity is that I might feel freer in what I write and also guard the identity of my former and present communities. There is another reason: the story is more God's than my own. The transfer, or more correctly, my contempla-tive vocation, is his work, his call, his idea. My part has only been a response to his initiative and to his love. Early History The idea of transfer did not come as a sudden inspiration. My first desire to be a nun came when ! was twelve and I was certain then that I was called to be a contemplative: I even knew to which order and monastery I was attracted. Some-thing, though, interfered with following this vocation: My father adamantly opposed the idea of his daughter being immured in a cloister. The whole topic was 22 A Personal Account of Transfer forbidden, and gradually I forgot the idea. In the meantime, I became acquainted wi~h the sisters working in our parish. I won my father's consent to join this :community which 1 genuinely loved and admired. I received a good fo, rmation and an excellent education. I was very happy and contented. One thing consistenly moved and drew me: prayer. Right from the beginning I had some difficulty with meditation books and their outline of points, colloquies and resolutions. It all seemed too ready-made. Also, the time given to this prayer (one-half hour) never seemed to satisfy my longing for greater intimacy and depth. My difficulty was remedied by the fact that God simply transcended the books and led me along his chosen path for me in prayer. Another remedy came by way of hiding alone in solitary places on the novitiate property. There God had free rein in my heart. The one thing I most wanted was to love him and see him known and loved. Of course I did try to speak of this desire to superiors. They seemed mbre concerned that I live the common life, practice virtue, and eliminate my faults. All this was quite understandable but not terribly encouraging. Matters came to a head when I became a junior sister. My desires for loving God alone and in hiddenness, and for a life which would embrace withdrawal and penance became a steady fire within me. Neither studies nor work could distract me from it. After some months of inner turmoil I finally had the courage to broach the subject of a contemplative vocation to the community confessor, a, retreat maste.r, and my immediate superior. None of these persons told me the whole thing was a temptation against my vocation, but since 1 was happy and well adjusted, they each felt that I had enough opportunity for the things I was seeking within the scope of the religious life as it was then being lived in the congregation. Again, this was essentially what I had been told in the novitiate. My disappoint-ment was as strong as the attraction I had experienced but l was able to set aside my yearning. The work in which I was engaged kept me busy. I enjoyed it and gave myself to it wholeheartedly. A few years later, an unforgettable retreat, coupled with God teaching me to pray with Scripture some months after retreat, gave direction and support to me in my relationship with him. He was so near, and daily he spoke to me in his word. This did not rekindle the desire for contemplative life~ but it did establish me firmly in the way of contemplative prayer. This brief history serves, I think, to underscore a fact in my life and in the lives of those women whose stories of transfer I know well: the vocation was felt very early and not taken too seriously by those in a position to advise and assist. Had they done so, a good deal of the suffering, struggle and turmoil of coming to a decision to transfer,after many years in an apostolic congregation might have been mitigated. . Coming to a Decision In the years following Vatican Council II my community undertook its renew-al and adaptation. I welcomed all the initial changes as healthy and hopeful. As time went on, however, I became unhappy with my own and the community's level 24 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 of secularization. My modest wardrobe and collection of trifling possessions troubled my conscience. I wanted and expected to receive annual assignments, but the new approach of applying for both position and residence, with the full expectation that one's preferences would be honored, contradi6ted my understand-ing of Gospel obedience. T.V., mixed drinks, popular novels, dating, and all the inevitable departures from religious life were matters of grave concern to me. It seemed to me that the true life of the community was ebbing away, that God and the love of God were no longer the focus of life. We still did a first-class job in our work, but there appeared to me~ little difference between ourselves and dedicated lay persons. Without going into more detail, I felt it necessary to include the foregoing inasmuch as it formed some of the background for my transfer. However, I do not feel that discontent and disapproval, even if justified, are good reasons for transfer. They would form a very shaky foundation for any new beginning and would surely raise questions in the community accepting a transfer sister. Flight from trouble could well indicate that the same pattern would be followed in the new community. It could also mean that the heart of the problem might be within the sister herself, and her response to difficult circumstances. Fleeing trouble was never part of my motivation. Had this been the case, I would have done it much sooner because I lived in painful community situations for several years before making a transfer. Furthermore, 1 was always very open and honest in communicating my thinking to my superiors. One cannot simply leave. There must be integrity in the decision and it should be made in peace and, as far as possible, in harmony with one's higher superiors. There should be no bitterness, resentment or anger. The vocation is followed as God's call and is a result of his initiative. This fact, if kept central in the minds of all concerned, makes for peace; and it is in this way that God's presence manifests itself to all involved. God uses all our experiences to our good and brings about his purposes. While not my motivation, discontent and disapproval were part of my personal expe-rience and did serve to keep me from what I saw as wrong, In a more positive vein, they ,kept me praying for God's light, strength and help. Certain tragic events in my own family also form a part of this picture and had their effect. Instead of completely discouraging me or leading me to despair or exodus from religious life altogether, everything brought me to the God of all peace and consolation. He alone became myRock of Refuge and Teacher. The alienation I experienced from my community and its value increased my love for him and my trust in him. Thus it was that my attraction for simply being with God in love grew stronger. A mere "concidence" (in quotation marks because the providence of the God who numbers the hairs of our fieads extends to every circumstance and happen-ing) occasioned my writing to the superior of a monastery. In time we became correspondents. When I first visited her and met her community in the grilled and bare parlor of the monastery I was deeply moved. This surprised me. I had not thought of contemplative life as my vocation for years, yet here 1 was, feeling completely at home with relative strangers and very strongly drawn to their sim- A Personal Account of Transfer / 25 plicity, humility, joy, peace and poverty. In the months that followed 1 was haunted by the experience. I found out more about their life and read of their origin. Could it be? Might 1 become one of them? Or was this merely a desire for escape from present suffering ("the grass is always greener.") or a dream too good to be true? Then, too, there was the possibility to be faced that God was calling me to deeper contemplative prayer rather than actual contemplative life. And might I be doing more good in the world outside a cloister rather than in it? I went through this inner and secret turmoil for several months. All the while 1 begged for light and some discernible, positive direction from God. 1 kept waiting and hoping for some outside confirmation of God's will. God was, in fact, giving me all the "signs" I needed, but I distrusted the most significant of them: the profound attraction the life held for me over the years and especially at that moment, the fact that it fulfilled the most unselfish aspirations of my heart, and the fact that I seemed to have the requisite "talents." How is it we so readily distrust our own intuition and heart? Yet here at the deepest level of our being is where God works. Again, I have heard the same experience related by others who transferred to contemplative life. 1 went through no particular "process" of dis-cernment. There was just myself and, I trust, the Holy Spirit, plenty of tears, prayer, and searing, soul-searching honesty. One thing 1 knew: my life had one purpose and that was to love God with all my heart and soul, mind and being and to tend solely to him. Nothing else mattered. I did not see it then as clearly as I do now, but that, too, was evidence of a contemplative vocation, and had been the most important reality in my whole religious life. In his own time, God spoke, and he completely calmed the storm. I came to a "peace surpassing understanding." All my doubts vanished. My questions came to an end. I knew. In light of that peace I first asked the superior of the monastery (of the same order as that to which I was first attracted at the age of twelve) if there were any possibility of her accepting me. At the time I made my request I know now I was too little aware of the risk a small enclosed community takes in accepting a transfer. 1 next confided in my old and saintly grandmother who gave me her blessing, encouragement and wisdom--along with a warning that there was "still plenty of the world" in me and that I'd have far to go. She was absolutely correct. With my grandmother's prayers to back me, I approached my major superior. She was wonderful and accepting. The depth of my peace and conviction were evident to her. She fully realized and agreed.that this was a genuine vocation and not a result of any differences of values or opinions. We communicated in a real spirit of love. Not knowing much about contemplative life, her concern was that my personality might be stifled or my gifts ignored and unused. 1 had tentatively broached the subject to a priest friend in a letter some weeks before. Visiting him, 1 told him the whole story and said that I really thought it was God's will for me to transfer. He informed me that it came as no surprise to him, that he had seen it coming but had not wanted in any way to interfere with God's guidance of me. Among my family and friends, the least suprised was my mother. Her intuition had led her to realize that a great change was in the offing. 96 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 The responses of all the above mentioned persons further confirmed my expe-rience. I cannot say that my decision was accepted or understood by all my friends and religious family. It caused some painful estrangements and there were those who could only accept it as my "thing" and therefore all right for me. The actual process of transfer was thus initiated after what had felt like an interminable period of waiting and praying. Perhaps God wanted me to realize that it was first necessary that I be utterly surrendered to his desires and that the only way he could achieve this was to let me struggle on "alone" during that time. It was a kind of game of love. He so deeply drew me but never let me fully reach him. Left to myself 1 could not believe in my own heart. It was not until he gave me that unmistakable sign and gift of peace that 1 was sure that what I had been experiencing in my own heart was indeed his will for me, that the two were not two, but one. Legal Process of Transfer Because 1 am rather sure questions about procedure will arise, it may be helpful here to tell what 1 know about getting the document known as a "Rescript of Transfer" from the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In my own case this was done in the last months of my postulancy immediately prior to my receiving the habit and commencing my canonical year. For the validity of novitiate, one must have this document. Ordinarily the Vicar for Religious of the diocese in which the monastery is located handles the paperwork. He directed that three letters be written: the first by the superior of the community ! was leaving expressing her approval and her willingness to receive me back at any time before solemn vows should I leave the monastery; the second by the superior receiving me stating her willingness to receive me and including pertinent data regarding my status in religion (name, age, years professed, community of origin); the third by myself. handwritten and addressed to the Pope, stating my request and my reasons for it. These letters are sent to the Vicar who forwards them to.Rome through his office. In approximately six weeks, upon receipt of the rescript, he sends copies to the superiors. This is, as ! understand it, the general procedure, although I have heard of it being done through the Vicar of the diocese which the transferring sister was leaving. I have also heard of cases handled by a major superior independently of the Vicar for Religious. The superior dealt directly with the Sacred Congregation for Religious. In any case, this rescript is the only permission one needs to begin the canonical year and proceed through formation to vows. New Beginning I entered upon my new life with certain expectations. Some were realistic and some not so realistic. It was realistic to expect some sense of dbjb vu. This was in many ways a return to customs and practices l had lived in my first several years of religious life. With these things I was at home. I had also rightly anticipated a warm community life. Of course 1 allowed for a period of adjustment, but I did not A Personal Account of Transfer expect it to last more than six to eight weeks, in fact, it took much longer than that. The reason was not that I was too old to learn or change or that 1 lacked a willing docility. It was more subtle than this. Without realizing it, I expected to enter upon a period of rest, a sort of honeymoon in a safe harbor after years of struggle and sorrow. This was not to be. For one thing, the monastic community I entered was going through its own renewal pains. And much worse, for me, was that when I came in the front door of the monastery it seemed that God left by the back door. Here 1 was at last, and where was he? The work tired me. The hard bed took some getting used to. Often it was impossible to get back to sleep once it had been broken by the Office or night adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. Sometimes the closeness of my neighbors irritated me beyond measure. There were no days off from routine. I expected to master everything easily but it turned out that I was the one to be mastered. After many years in religious life it amazed me to learn how deluded I was about myself. Without the distractions of apostolic work and all that goes with it, without useless conversation, reading and entertainment, God's light began to clarify my vision. The very starkness of the life, its purity, makes for this experience. I was face to face with myself, my weakness, my poverty. Anything is possible if God is tangibly supporting us. It is when he is appar-ently nowhere to be found that things get out of hand and we are unable to cope with the simplest and most normal inconveniences and trials of daily life. But ought not a contemplative be able always to find refuge in prayer? Self-made prayer is most unsatisfactory. What a contemplative learns by being unable to pray, by being reduced to utter poverty at every level of existence (and this was my experience) is just to cling in naked faith to Jesus Crucified. Paradoxical as it may sound, there is no greater happiness. Having come to this reality through suffering, both in my life before 1 entered the monastery and in the years 1 have been here, I know something of what it means to say with Paul that I have been crucified with Christ, that my life is not my own and Christ lives in me (Ga 2:19-20). The way to the deepest joy I have ever known is just as the Son of God has taught us and that way is by losing my life and denying my very self. The total experience of knowing myself as nothing, of having nothing, has opened my eyes in faith to the All within me, the Being who in unfathomable love calls non-being into union with himself. My love for God, my hunger for him, unites me at the Heart of Reality with all my brothers and sisters in this world. I do not live for myself, nor suffer for myself, nor weep for myself. My vocati6n embraces every person on earth. In their names 1 pray and work. In their names, I, too, am in misery and pain. I am a whole world calling to God in need, in love, in trust. 1 have entered eternity in time and within me there is infinite scope for love. I came because of love and I have stayed because of love. Surely it is "a narrow gate and a hard road" (Mt 7:13-14), but it "leads to life," life opening more and more into the mystery of God as love. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Barbara Armstrong, O.SS.R. This article had its origin in a presentation made to a group of retreat masters by Sister Barbara, a cloistered nun residing in the Redemptoristine Monastery; Liguori. MO 63057. Somewhere in her writings, the great St. Teresa compares the contemplative with the standard-bearer in battle. She says that, because he is the standard-bearer, he is exposed to great danger. He can't defend himself because he carries the standard, of which he must not let go--even if he is to be cut to pieces. "Contemplatives," she says, "have to bear aloft the sign of humility, the Cross. And they must suffer all the blows aimed at them without striking back. Their duty is to suffer as Jesus did." "Let them watch what they are doing," she says again, "for if they let the standard fall, the battle is lost." It isn't the standard-bearer who is important. It is the standard itself which is all important, for it is imprinted with the sign of our salvation: the Cross. Perhaps this is why there are so few contemplatives. Perhaps, too, this is why contempla-tives need all the help they can get just to respond fully to the call of their vocation, to persevere and become fruitful in the Church of today. You Have No Eyes to See The message sent to the Church in Laodicea, in the Book of Revelation, is also a message meant for contemplatives--and for those who guide them. Right after the familiar passage about lukewarmness, we hear the Lord say: "You have no eyes to see that you are wretched, pitiable, poverty-stricken, blind and naked. My advice to you is to buy from me that gold which is purified in the furnace, so that you may be rich, and white garments to wear so that you may hide the shame of your nakedness, and salve to put on your eyes to make you see." That phrase, "You have no eyes to see," is significant for us because ignorance The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction is one of the reasons why relatively few contemplatives ever attain the end for which they were called: union with God. Mystical graces, we are told, are always available. God's goodness and generosity are never lacking. But very few actually arrive at a state of contemplation. Why is this? To answer this question, I would like to tell you a story. Actually, it is a parable which is told in the book of a Carmelite nun, Sister Ruth Burrows. Here is her parable. A Love Story Hidden away in a valley surrounded by high mountains there lived a very primitive tribe. The people of this tribe knew very little of the world outside their valley. Occasionally, they would get a glimpse of a jet streaking across the sky far over their heads, and this, they thought, was one of the gods throwing spears at another. One day a man appeared in the valley, a young anthropologist. He had come to study the tribe at close quarters--if they would have him. But they were a gentle tribe, so they welcomed him. The young man was lodged in the chief's hut and lived there for some years. Eventually he fell in love with the chief's daughter and married her. Hitherto, the girl had thought herself wealthy. Was not her father the most powerful of their people? But the closer she grew to her beloved, the more she saw that her riches--the family cattle, some cooking pots and animal skins--were as nothing compared to the possessions that were her husband's. He had materials, leathers and machines, knives and matches to make fire--riches unimaginable. But the girl saw, too, that her husband's greatest delight was to share his riches with her. Her lack merely aroused his bounty, so she knew her poverty itself primarily as a richness, giving them both pleasure. There came a time when the anthropologist had to leave and, taking his wife with him, he returned to his own civilization. The native girl found this new environment terribly alien. She discovered, to her horror, that her husband's enemies laughed at him behind his back because of his primitive wife. Even his friends pitied him. She didn't know what to do with this bitter knowledge. Some-how she had brought disgrace on her loved one. The girl always knew that her husband loved her. She knew that he longed to share his heart with her, take her completely into his life. But when he tried to speak of so many things closest to him, she would notice his voice falter, for she could not follow even the meaning of his words, let alone the scope of his thoughts and concepts. She was shut off from him by her own limitation and ignorance. That caused her distress almost beyond bearing. The more she realized what her poverty cost her beloved, the more absolute became her will to escape from it for his sake. Equally the more clearly did she see that, of herself, there was no escape. But all was not lost because she also realized that in her husband she had come not only to understand her poverty, but to find an effective and everpresent escape from it. From him she could receive all that his Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 love had prepared for her. So she opened her heart to everything he had to offer her. She found in him the most loving of teachers. Soon she became the echo of his thought. There passed between them intimate glances of complete understanding. She had an intuitive knowledge of how his mind worked, so closely did she grow to him. Yet she bad lost nothing of that natural woman he had first loved. On the contrary, she only now realized her own innate capacity. Her enrichment had brought all that was already there to bloom. But now, more than ever, she knew, too, that this was all his doing. Every perception, every growth, had come from his love and his teaching. Genuine Contemplatives This story, lengthy though it be, brings out so many important points about the contemplative vocation. Years ago, maybe it's different now, one of the phrases we often heard was that "we should strive for perfection." This tended to make us think that we could do it all ourselves. The main idea seemed to be that we were in control of our lives. The success of things depended on our own efforts. And so, many of us thought we could become contemplatives by the things we did. Like the primitive tribe of our story living in their valley, though, our horizons were very limited. We were content with our regulated existence, our own personal riches and the consolations sent us from time to time by a loving God. Much confid~nce was attached to the good things of our little enclosed world. We had no eyes to see beyond our then present peaceful life. But since we are meant to be genuine contemplatives, Jesus began to break through our ignorance and complacency. He asked us to leave our valley of poverty. He invited us to a rich interior world, one we had never dreamed of. These invitations continue to be offered to us in many ways. Perhaps they come in a retreat, in a sermon, in our reading, or through the words of a friend. But the voice is the voice of Jesus, and he invites us over and over again. If the primitive tribe in our story had turned away the young anthropologist when he came among them, he would never have married the chief's daughter. She would never have learned about the larger world; she would have stayed in her ignorance. Think of all the beauty, rich, ness and love of which she would have been deprived. The great St: Teresa was satisfied for a long time with her routine religious exercises, even though in her heart she knew better. We read that she continued to live just over twenty ,years with her heart divided between two extremes: the pleasures, satisfactions and pastimes of her fashionable world, and the spiritual life of a contemplative. How can this happen? How can we contemplatives continue to fool ourselves ---even though we are continually prodded, continually touched by grace? One of the ways we contemplatives have of staying in our valley of poverty is by our attachment to .the Law. We can" fall prey to a sort of fanatical legalism. The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction Most often, it seems, it is the most pious of persons who become rigid and unbending formalists. "Here at last," we say, "is something solid to hang on to." In our own eyes we are in the right. "We are doers of the Law." Any ,doer of the law, however, will also be tempted to live by the law, whereas the true lover of Jesus lives by the spirit. We contemplatives tend to make the Law, and it alone, our security. We never even dream that it is possible to seek a perfection in anything whatever with an intensity of zeal that is in itself imperfect. For instance, often in the past, the cross, austerity, suffering was unthinkingly perverted by us in our zeal. Wehad the idea that, since we were only pleasing God when we were suffering, the more suffering the better. Fearing and hating our bodies, we thought, would make us spiritual people. This, together with the notion that we were redeemed by suffering since Jesus died for us, we pushed .to its logical conclusion, thinking that we could never have too much suffering. It wasn't suffer-ing that redeemed us. It was love.t We contemplatives can develop attachments to just about anything: to prayer and fasting for their own sake; to a pious practice or devotion; to a custom or system of spirituality; to a method of meditation, even to contemplation itself (or to what we think is contemplation.) We can become attached to virtues, to things that, in themselves, are marks of heroism and high sanctity. We religious men and women, called to be saints, can allow ourselves to be blinded by an inordinate love for such things and can remain just as much in darkness and error as those who seem far less perfect than we. Some of us can become gluttons for prayer and for silence and solitude. Silence can become an ultimate. When there is noise we become angry and rebel-lious. If we are required to set aside our solitude for the sake of charity, we fill the air with our complaints. This kind of solitude and silence is false, of course, a refuge for the individualist. Perhaps the deepest attachment of all, the one which keeps us in our valley of poverty the longest, is attachment to ourselves. On this we must keep a fingerhold; we just cannot let go. Self-respect, self-fulfillment, self-satisfaction--we have to look good in our own eyes and in the eyes of others. We worry.about failure because somehow we are not living up to the expectations we have set for our-selves. Only secondly do we consider the expectations of God. In our story the chief's daughter found that her lack aroused her husband's bounty. She knew her poverty primarily as a sweet thing. But covetous as we are, we contemplatives want our hands full. We must have something of our own which we can bestow on God; or at least hold out to him, thinking to win him over with our generosity. When Jesus Touches Us Sooner or later we begin to realize that this way of living does not work; we begin to see that relying on ourselves alone is doomed to failure. When Jesus touches us with his mystical graces, what happens? Our eyes are opened and we are Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 dissatisfied with everything. This overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction could very well be Jesus' most precious gift of all. But it does not seem so to us~ We look within and discover the same faults and vices we have always been burdened with. Prayer has become almost unbearable. Spiritual things in general lose their familiarity and joy. Panic deepens. Life seems turned upside down and inside out. Above all this, the knowl-edge that we have failed the Lord, that we have dropped the standard, that the battle is being lost--this is our deepest sorrow. But although all seems lost, what we experience in reality is the finding of our true life in Jesus. Like our primitivegirl, we, too, begin to realize, at last, that only in Jesus will we find our ever present redemption from our dreaded poverty. Retreat masters, spiritual directors and confessors will do us the greatest favor if they direct their efforts toward instilling in us an abiding trust in the all-loving Providence of God and in the saving life of Jesus. They should help us to mistrust ourselves and to surrender ourselves into His hands. They should teach us to cling to him no matter how dark things seem to be, teach us to have faith in his love and in his forgiveness no matter what we think we have done; no matter how we think we have failed. Signs of Progress What are the signs by which spiritual directors may gauge for certain real progress in contemplatives? Some of the outward manifestations of an inward mystical encounter or of infused contemplation might be the following: We contemplatives might describe to directors an experience of a deep and painful knowledge of ourselves, for we begin to see ourselves as we truly are. We may say that all our illusions are b~ing shattered, especially our illusions of self-importance. We may tell them that all our cherished ambitions are unmasked for the first time, or that we feel our dignity has been overthrown. We will, perhaps, tell them that we are lost; that we are not sure any more if we are leading dedicated lives at all. We exper!ence a growing sense of insecurity. At the same time, strange as it may seem, we experience at~ acceptance of this state. As our native girl found when she op~ned her heart to everything her husband had to offer her, so we contemplatives begin to see everything in a different light. Our lives of austerity, our efforts at mortification will acquire a deeper significance. We understand that as God is our life, we must let nothing take the edge off our need for him. This is a new way of living out our hunger and thirst, our refusing to be satisfied. We are consenting to have no security and no other satisfaction but God; a God who is unseen and unfelt. So near is he and so awesome, that unless we say "Yes" to him all the time, and accept life as he gives it, we must return to our valley of poverty. The temptation to turn back can be overwhelming. But it is also true that we are given a powerful strength at this time, enabling us to persevere. All this, of course, is an effect of Jesus' lox;e for us. We remember, indeed we cannot for a The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction moment forget, that any enrichment in us is all his doing. Still, this is a time of great struggle and temptation. Perhaps the greatest temptation will be to abandon prayer or at least to try to escape, in some way, the grievous suffering of a deep emptiness and poverty within. This empty prayer, however, has tremendous importance. If we consent to wait humbly for the Lord, we will, all unknowingly, find that it is precisely in this arid waste that Jesus is touching us. At this juncture, the contemplative might tell the director of an experience of being literally undone and remade, for there are no half measures any longer. What is really happening is that our faith is being deepened all the time. A sure sign that we contemplatives have not made progress will be precisely the certainty that we have! Alternatively another certain sign of growth might be the gradual disappearance of a tendency to criticize and find fault. There appears instead, a more gentle outlook; a kinder and more compassionate approach, thanks be to God. Love: Human and Divine Love has been our theme all the way through. But now I would like to be a li'ttle more specific about love, I mean the place of both human and divine love in the contemplative life. I think we will all agree that human affection is probably the most sweeping emotion in us. So, from the outset, we need to keep these two loves, the human and the divine, in order, lest the human sweep us off the foundation of the divine. To feel attraction for another, of course, is not wrong. Yet, for some of us, it can and does become a .dangerous thing. We fear to admit our feelings and to accept them, for the very difficulty in doing so can pose a thousand problems for us. At the same time, we know that this is the only healthy approach. It means we are accepting our sexuality and womanliness. I wonder if any of us ever fully grasps what a block to God's transforming action lies in the refusal to face up to and integrate our sexuality, and live it out continently for the glory of God? The Carmelite, Sr. Ruth Burrows states: "Being sexual means basically that 1 am a half and. not a whole. I am incomplete as I am and I tend, unconsciously, always to seek my other half, even though consciously, ! have renounced my right to marry and have children and be made whole by another. But grace does not work fully in a half person, so I struggle to love purely though it be through a great deal of suffering, because Jesus has promised to fill my emptiness with himself and so take away the ache of loneliness. If I am to become whole it will be in him and I must live in the hope of becoming whole in him and in him alone." The greatest danger is that we will try to get rid of the pain. We will even deny that these desires and attractions exist because they do not fit our stereotypic image of "the holy nun for whom God is enough." When we deny these feelings, the temptation will be to seek compensation for what we have given up. Frustrated longing comes to the surface sooner or later. It shows itself in outward behavior 3tl / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 such as domination of others, maternalism (or paternalism), or a passive or child-ish dependence. Who hasn't encountered these types in religious life? There are the old maids or bachelors. They will avoid personal involvements of every kind. In the name of holy recollection, they "keep their hearts for God alone." They are afraid to make friends and so they play it safe. Then there are the frustrated wives and mothers--and we might add, frus-trated fathers. These have never faced up to the truth of their feelings and desires. So they live on compensations instead of on God. They use their friends selfishly, looking for gratification from them. They dominate.and control other lives for their own ends, thinking all the while that this is "holy freedom" and "human fulfillment." To get back to us women: a woman, by nature, is meant to be selfless, receptive, wholly intent on giving and loving, that others 'might become them-selves. But when we see so many religious women leave their institutes these days, giving up their vocation and going back to secular life, we're not judging them when we ask, "Could it be that they did not get the help they needed in this problem of love?" Perhaps they found no one to understand their problem. Was there anyone to whom they could have gone for guidance amid these conflicting feelings, desires and attractions? I think we all need to know that it's alright to feel attraction and affection for others, especially for those of the opposite sex. I think we need to hear again and again that the feeling of attraction is only one side of love; that it may lead to love but that it is not itself real love but only a feeling. And like any feeling, it will not last thus forever. In the meantime, the tension in which we are caught, between our desires for exclusive love and our commitment to universal love, needs some level-headed self-control. We need someone to encourage us tO effort, watchful-ness and patience, humility and trust in divine grace. The struggle will teach us to rely on a spiritual power higher than our own nature. There is no doubt that we will grow from this struggle, which with God's help will become creative. We will learn to grow up, to take total responsibility for our own lives, their choices and decisions. And we will allow no one and nothing to turn us away from the principles by which we wish to live. The ultimate answer is found only when Jesus is re'peatedly placed before us as the object of our whole desire, and when, by repeated redirection, we are gradually transformed into him. Viva Memoria Finally, there comes a time when the interior rending apart, the anxiety, the sense of terrible absence are no more. The mysteries of Jesus, previously seen as the imitation of Christ giving the external principles by'which we were guided, now become our own mysteries, and we live progressively the life of Jesus; we become literally living memories. All that happens to the "personal me" begins to give joyful insight into the knowledge of Jesus himself. ~ Our venerable foundress, Mother Mary Celeste, has something to tell us about The Needs of Contemplatives in Direction this mystical state of contemplation. In her prayer our Lord speaks to her in these words which she passes on to us: "My spouse, abandon your own free will, your willing and your not willing, and leave all to my Divine Providence and my disposal. Make yourself an echo of my Willing. And if I say to you in my good pleasure: 'A cross,' then in your willing, will the cross. And if I say: 'Humiliation and contempt,' then be my echo and say, 'contempt.' And if I say: 'Kiss me with the kiss of sweet union,' then give me the most sweet echo of love and kiss me. It is in this way that you have no other desire or will than the absolute movement of my Will. Thus while you live, I, too, live as if I alone were alive in your very being, a.nd not you yourself." As with the happy couple in our love story, so it is with us: There begins the passing of those intimate glances of complete spiritual understanding. We might say that our whole occupation is love, or that prayer is our life. Either statement would be equally true. Then there is an awareness of deep contentment. That doesn't mean that growth isn't possible. In fact, it has to happen. The surrender becomes deeper and deeper, letting God do everything, totally sure that he will do so. And so ours becomes a life of deeper and deeper trust. We might end this as we began by saying, once again in the words of Sister Ruth Burrows, "Holiness in the contemplative is not a greatness but a total acceptance of human lowliness and total surrender of it to God in trust." Desert--After Fire Twisted; tortured, Bare black This land. Seared, scarred, What remnants remain. Evening whispers, "All is lost." Night mantles dark Deeper than ever touched This fire-scorched earth before. This land will heal. Soft spring rain Will sift tl~rough ashes. Bring new life to seed Concealed beneath the crusted earth. The cross is fire too And bare its wood Which must be aflame Before the Paschal morning dawns To heal and renew. Sister Miriam John, R.G.S. Patterdell 1820 W. Northern Ave. Phoenix, AZ 85021 Indwelling Prayer: Centering in God, Self, Others David J. Hassel, S.J. This article~ is a chapter from a book, Radical Prayer, which Father Hassel hopes soon to publish. An earlier article, "The Feel of Apostolic Contemplation-in-Action," appeared in the issue of May, 198 I. Father continues to reside at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 North Sheridan Rd.; Chicago, IL 60626. The most radical of all types of prayer may well be indwelling prayer, for its quiet power pulses the movements of all other types of prayer. Indeed, the praying person, carried along by the seeming passivity of indwelling prayer, drifts closer and closer to the inmost self where the~ majestic God waits to welcome him or her warmly. In the attempt to delineate this deepest prayer, the reader's familiarity with various forms of more active prayer will be used as contrasting background for recognizing and appreciating more passive prayer. Some of these more active types of prayer would be: 1) problematic prayer wherein one reviews personal problems with the Lord while expressing various needs arising from them (e.g., peace in a troubled mar-riage, a job sought in the midst of a depressed economy, success in collegiate studies, mental health for a troubled daughter, good weather for the tourist season); 2) insight prayer (meditation): seeing the spiritual meaning of, e.g., a gospel event, a striking sentence in a saint's biography, a friend's casual but penetrating remark, a shocking event witnessed by chance; 3) spaced vocalprayer in which one spaces out the words of a favorite vocal tThe comments of James F. Maguire, S.J., of Edmund Fortman, S.J., and of Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., were especially incisive in revising this article for publication. 36 Indwelling Prayer / 37 prayer like the Our Father in order to discover and to reflect upon the fuller meaning of each phrase; 4) gospel contemplative prayer: seeing, hearing, feeling the gospel event as it unfolds in one's imagination; introducing oneself imaginatively into the scene as a friend of the apostles, as a servant girl, as a sick shepherd; 5) petitionary prayer: asking for God's help, e.g., to bring this person back to church, to relieve this person's mental agony, to be able to handle this court case well; 6) liturgicalprayer: the community finding God together in the sacred event of Eucharist, baptism, marriage, anointing of sick, reconciliation of sinners, and so on; 7) affective prayer: wherein feelings of hope, love, fear, anger, and desire (for God, for various virtues for saving situations, for the saints and for friends) operate. These are, of course, not ~all the forms of more active prayer, but they serve to illustrate the meaning of the term more active prayer for our purposes here. Familiarity with these types of more active prayer will later enable one to recognize, by experiential contrast, more passive prayer, and, hence, indwelling ;prayer, the probable source of all types of more passive prayer. Consequently, our first task is not to define abstractly more active prayer against more passive prayer, but instead, to get the "feel" of each by contrasting their diverse types of presence to God, self, and the world. This demands that, in ~/second step, we explore the experience of "presence" and ~ote the paradoxes arising in the presence constitut-ing more passive prayer. Thirdly, we will investigate whether more active and more passive prayer cancel out or nourish each other. In a fourth step, we note how those entering into more passive types of prayer, often undergo the discouraging feeling of prayerlessness, a purifying experience which paradoxically leads into awareness of the indwelling prayer underlying the more passive forms of prayer. At this point, we are finally ready to enter the life-rhythms of indwelling prayer and to search out the ways of doing this trinitarian prayer at the center of our being. Here, too, it should become clear why trinitarian prayer could be the presence underlying all types of prayer. For it reveals death and resurrection at new depths in our being. But for the present let us begin to deal with the diverse presences of more active and more passive prayer. The Diverse Presences of More Active and More Passive Prayer To distinguish more active prayer from more passive prayer is not to abandon one for the other, not to put a premium on one over the other, nor to deny their need of each other. But it is to see how they promote each other and to note how more passive types of prayer are rooted in indwelling prayer. Here definitions can mean nothing if they do not touch our prayer experience, or if they are ambiguous enough to bag together all types of prayer indiscriminately. Therefore we must distinguish these different types of prayer by describing the diverse experiences in which they occur. Let us begin such a process by first trying to discover the root of 311 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 more active prayer. Seven types (among many) of more active prayer were mentioned earlier. Actually all types of more active prayer seem to burgeon out of a single root, a "stretching out to the Lord." What is this stretch? It may well be an attitude towards others which the average good person has. To illustrate this, answer the following questions, and notice what you discover within yourself: i) Why not sleep later than usual today?--Suppose you do inconvenience some people like those in the car pool, like the spouse waiting at the breakfast table, like the other workers in the ,office or at the assembly line, like the students in the classroom? 2) Why pay attention at breakfast to the kids'chatter and the spouse's com-plaints about the leaking roof when the morning paper would be so much more interesting? 3) Why get to work a little bit early in order to get the jump on things so that the day goes better for everyone? 'Why not let others worry about the day? 4) Why help out at this or that emergency when you've got your own job to get done, too? Why not tell them to do the best they can without you since you're busy? 5) Why break off a lively lunch conversation to answer a telephone call or to listen to Henry's usual request for a loan to tide him over the weekend? 6) Why use your midafternoon break for correcting Jenny's letter to the man-ager protesting his failure to put her in charge of the secretary pool? 7) Why correct the kids at the dinner table when it's so much eas'ier to let things go and pretend you didn't see or hear it? 8) When you're dead tired and comfortably waiting for the T.V. news to come on or when you are just starting to relax with a little hi-fi music, why agree to hear the spelling lesson or arbitrate the latest argument betw, een the ten year old and the eleven year oM? 9) Why end and start your day with prayer at the tioes you're most tired? And why go to early Mass on your golf or hairdresser's day and also on Sunday, the only times you can sleep in? In other words, why keep stretching, stretching, stretching through the day unless there is a person waiting at the end of the stretching~ unless there is the Christ or the Father or the Spirit? This refusal to protect yourself from others and from God is a mysterious attitude.'Could it pbssibly be the lure of your vocation, the strength of your friendship with Christ (and therefore with his people, your people)? Could this attitude even be the taproot of 'all the types of more active prayer in your life? Could it even be the basic source of your contentment with life underneath all its irritations, failures, missed opportunities, and dashed hopes? Of course, this "stretch" attitude underlying more active prayer is. buried within one's consciousness and so it can be discovered only through the type of question-ing just completed. Yet is there riot some single directing lure running like'a golden thread through the "stretch" of the day to gi~,e direction and meaning to one's life? Indwelling Prayer And does this thread not lead eventually to the attractive Christ who alone makes fitting sense out of one's life? How can a person stretch out to all the needy unless first God is stretching out to him or her? .Here active prayer is seen as presence to the world and its needs--a presence inspired by Christ's appealing call. It would seem, then, that we may have tapped the root of more active prayer and are now ready to find the source of more passive prayer. More. passive prayer is often defined as a resting in God or a quiet'alertness to God and to others. Thomas Green describes it as "floating freely in th~ sea of God," as allowing God to direct oneself wherever he wills.2 In common with more active prayer, it is a refusal to protect oneself, it is an availability to God and to others. This common element,,hints at a deeper experience underlying both more active and more passive prayer and uniting them. And yet these two types of. prayers are quite different .since more passive prayer is often like a sinking into one's inner depths to find God; while more active prayer is a stretching out to others and to God in others. Even when more passive prayer is awareness of a God-vibrancy in clouds, trees, animals, and people's faces, voices, gestures, it nevertheless is more a stirring in the depths of one's being than a reaching out to touch. Even when one becomes aware of God somehow speaking and acting through the other person, passive prayer is more an alertness within one's own being than the message in the other's'action. Indeed, more passive prayer is, for the most part, careful listening, long waiting, occasionally a soundless crying out to God in his seeming absence. At other times, it is. allowing the Spirit to pray in me to the Father without my having any control; it is letting Jesus invade me totally,in my powerlessness and then .experiencing the resultant clash of fear and gladness within me. , ~ As more passive prayer progresses in the person, it can distill into a simple presenting of the self to the Lord. It is merely a "wanting to be with God" which is often intensified by Eucharistic presence. It is a wordless, thoughtless, imageless facing to .God. It is almost pure presence at the deepest level of experience; while in the upper levels of experience one can be .simultaneously aware of pain in one's posture, of distracting thoughts and images, of feelings of fatigue or elation. But the latter appear negligible compared to the facing of God. Here the praying person is facir~g not only God but also the mystery of presence itself. Perhaps the feeling and meaning of presence hold the key to understanding more passive prayer~ The Experience of Presence: Its Paradoxes in More Passive Prayer What is the "feel" of presence for us? It can be the invigorating experience of knowing that one's father and mother are listening proudly during one's piano 2Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dr), (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1978), p. 150. Just as this book is ekcellent for its descriptions of more passive prayer, so his Opening to God (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1977) describes well more active prayer and delineates simply and directly the basic principles of beginners' prayer. tll~ / Review for Relig!ous, Jan.-Feb., 1982 recital~ or watching eagerly from the basketball grandstands for one's next basket. It can also be the sense of depletion, of sinking heart, when one sees the "enemy" coming into the room, hostile and even malevolent, to observe one's expected failure. Presence can be a sustaining strength in the hospital room. No need for words or for the busy alleviating of pain, just the steady touch of being there. Presence is an enriching moment when the vast anonymity of the great airport terminal'is shattered by a familiar voice calling one's name. Sometimes "absence" can sharpen one's awareness of what presence is. One observes two people talking to each other but neither listening, each waiting impatiently for his or her turn to speak. Absence can be the "freeze" where two people working side-by-side in a bakery or in an office, condemn each other heartily and render the eight-hour day coldly miserable for each other. The politi-cal handshake can be an insult when the state's leader has shaken three hands while still talking to the first hand. Here absence hardly makes the heart grow fonder. Presence, at times, seems to grow without any effort on one's part. Old friends go to the concert together. As soon as the music begins, they~are rapt and seem-ingly totally oblivious to the other. But neither would consider for a moment going to the concert alone. Underneath the silent raptness, their friendship continues to grow quietly--a conclusion proven by a new depth of sharing as they return home amid slow, mulling conversation. Not rarely three friends hike the mountain trails for six to eight hours with only an occasional word and: an almost silent midday lunch. Yet the enjoyment of each other is intense and, underneath the quiet calm, intimacy grows. It would seem that the beauty of music and nature mysteriously sensitizes each person to the other instead of distracting each from the other. This sense of the other's person deepens over the years; familiarity does not always breed co.ntempt. The tight-knit family may have more than its share of private squabbles, but its members have a true sixth sense when one of them is in jeopardy or in deep joy and they quickly arrive to rescue or to rejoice. Such a family, over the years, develops a secret language of grimace, wink, smile and code-words which sum up a lifetime of shared sorrows and laughs; the person of each is uniquely appreciated. The lover of many years still feels a _leap of heart when the beloved comes into the room or when the lover hears the beloved's laugh from the far side of the party chatter. The lover's heart affirms the beloved's "simply being there"---apart from what he or she is saying or doing;just as the two concert-goers and the three hikers are doing more than enjoying music and nature. They find in the being of music and mountains a new way in which to resonate to each other's being, i.e., to grow in the intimacy of friendship. For what is intimacy if not this acquired ability to live deeply with each other, to resonate in each other's very being, in such a way that friends can, on occasion, say to each other: "It doesn't really matter much where we go or what we do so long as we are together." Such intimacy, expressed through quick knowing glance, light caress, exuberant play, and the clasp of hand, perdures and grows at the being-level in emergency rooms, during sweaty decision-times about job and fam- Indwelling Prayer ily, on the beach, at the "graduation ceremonies" of the retarded child, at the birthday parties, within the many hasty breakfasts and more leisurely suppers. From all this, could one say that "presence" is intimacy or mutual resonance at the level of being? If so, then this could reveal much about the dynamics between more active and more passive types of prayer. If presence would be deep awareness of the other's very being, then "the prayer of simple presence" to God could be the praying person's affirming of God's being and God's affirming of the praying person's being. In more passive prayer of simple presence, one becomes aware of Christ and of his interests because one now allows him to enter oneself and one's work at the level of one's very being or personhood? In more passive prayer, God becomes more real for the praying person because the latter lets God be more real, i.e., lets God be Being Itself. The praying person does this by refusing to box up God within her or his own ideas, theories, and expectations. Rather, this person allows God to act in him or her: by remaining passive, he or she gives God time to become more present to the self. Paradoxically, then, more passive prayer renders a person more fully present to God and to self than does more active prayer. Through more passive prayer, the person becomes literally a being-for-God. Indeed, the divine name, Yahweh, comes to mean not merely "I am who am" but also "I am the One who will be for you." Is it possible that at this juncture we have reached that basic attitude of prayer which underlies all other attitudes of prayer? Is this the most radical of all prayers? For this basic attitude is the very being of a person as a "being-for-God." At this point, a second paradox comes into view. In more passive prayer, because the praying person is more present to self and to God at the level of being, he or she can now meet others at their being-level, not just humans but also animals, plants, and even non-vital things like mountains, rivers, fire, and stars. For with the experience of God's tender regard for oneself as unique and undying comes the ability to appreciate others as having unique worth and destiny. It is no wonder, then, that through more passive prayer, the praying person paradoxically becomes more actively present to the whole wide world. Even distant horizons are expanded by the intimate depth at which beings resonate with each other. For this reason more passive prayer renders the praying person more active in works for the family, the neighborhood, the Church--and also more hopeful because more trusting of the Holy Spirit's activity in the self and in others. More passive prayer, in making the perso.n less trusting of his or her own activity apart from God, has enabled the person to become more bold for the Church by 3Karl Rahner speaks of this passivity when describing the conditions of transcendence. "[Transcen-dence] may not be understood as an active mastering of the knowledge of God by one's own power, and hence also as a mastery of God himself. By its very nature subjectivity is always a transcendence which listens, which does not control, which is overwhelmed by mystery and opened up by mystery . Transcendence exists only by opening itself beyond itself, and, to put it in biblical languag,e, it is in its origin and from the very beginning the experience of being known by God himself" (Foundations of Christian Faith [New York: Seabury, 1978], p. 58). 42 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1982 allowing God to enter the self and to power the latter's actions. This is where personal vanity becomes reduced and the confidence in self-sacrifice gets increased. Evidently, the more passively praying person is more consciously a "being-for- God" and more clearly sees God as "I am the One who will be for you." The Differences Challenge and Nourish Each Other At this point having described more active and more passive prayer for them-selves, we are now in position to etch out their differences and to discover why these two types of prayer are called "more active" and "more passive" rather than simply active and passive prayer. It would appear that more active prayer is more conceptual than its counterpart, that is, more concerned with ideas and insight. It is also more creatively imaginative as it deals with plans of action, options for decisions, visions for the future, ambitions for the present. Again, more active prayer is more consciously integrative around a central idea or insight: "As 1 see it, the one great value in life is . "or "The central theme in my prayer is . " It is more apt to try to control: "We could set up this system of priorities, then get that done immediately; then . " It is more energetic, that is, more work oriented, more prone to gathering achievements. Finally, it is more bodily, because action in the world is incarnated through the body. On the other hand, more passive prayer is more affective than conceptual, more conscious of feelings for the other and in the other; therefore; it is more value oriented than vision enthralled. It is also more receptive than creative in its use of the imagination; thus, art and nature speak out more clearly and enter more movingly into the person praying more passively. It is more integrative by person or spirit than by idea: "This person loves me and so 1 can take the hard knocks ahead," or "1 don't quite understand her plan, but I trust her and will do what she says," Indeed, more 'passive prayer is, strangely, more spontaneous than con-trolled; it is more disturbing, more surprising, more dangerous to a person's careful selfishness. One says more often: "This happening in prayer wa~ a rather unex-pected revelation for me; I'm not sure 1 like this turn of events." Again, in more passive prayer there is more waiting, more expectancy, more sharp listening: "Nothing seems to be happening for days, and then boom ."Finally, it is more soulful in its reflective sinking into the self to find God. It should be clearer now that one must name these two types of prayer more active and more passive lest we split the personality of prayer. For both types are active and both are passive but with different emphases. For example, both use concepts, imagination, and feelings; but more active prayer is more conceptual than affective and the reverse is true of passive prayer. More active prayer deals more often with the creative imagination and more passive prayer works more often with the receptive imagination; but both types of prayer, working' in one and the same imagination, use not only the creative but also the receptive function of the imagination. All this would seem to point to their radical unity, especially since in both types the praying person has the intent not to prote,ct and to comfort the self but rather Indwelling Prayer / 43 to be available to God and to his people. Indeed, it would appear that either type of prayer would go slack and die without the appropriate challenge of the other type: Without the "stretch" of more active prayer, more passive prayer could wallow deep in the self and even forget God, much more his people. Without the "reflective sinking into being" of more passive prayer, more active prayer can end up in such a welter of action that the "stretch" could one day shred into a thousand loose strands of frenetic, superficial activities having no center of being, no rever-ence for others, no undying future. But actually, both types of prayer can challenge and nourish the other. More active prayer is concerned with "putting it all together," with having the world make final sense, so that the world is somehow under control. More active prayer works that the praying person may "have it all together," may be totally integrated as a wholesome person, not fragmented or tormented, so that the praying person may control her or his destiny. On the other hand, more passive prayer forces the praying person to face the fact that he or she is a being totally dependent on God whom he or she must trust in the midst of personal fragmentation and of a world gone awry~ More active prayer wants the resurrection now and the beatific vision now just as they are promised in every love song; in all ~great poetry and drama, and in the apocalyptic literature of the Bible. In contrast, more passive prayer demands that the praying person wait and listen, become excruciatingly aware of shortcomings and sins within one's being or personhood, know his or her absolute powerlessness to do anything worthwhile apart from God, be content for now with much less than immediate resurrection and beatific vision. Neither prayer denies the truth of the other's intent; neither claims to have all the truth, but each challenges the other to greater realism about self, God, and the world. Each depends on the challenge of the other as more active prayer aims at total wholesomeness of self and world in God and as more passive prayer aims at enduring the fragmentation of self and dislocation of world until God heals them both~ There is, however, more than challenge between the two types of prayer. Each nourishesand promotes the other. The more active forms of prayer (e.g., the seven mentioned earlier) lead into the more passive forms of prayer, which in turn.root more deeply the ensuing more active forms of prayer. For example, meditative or mental prayer focuses the praying person's powers on particular objects such asan event of Christ's life, Mary's motherhood of the Church, the mystery of the Eucharist, God's plan for the individual or gr

Issue 13.4 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; Review for Religious JULY 15, 1954 Religious and Modern Needs . . Jordan Aumann Mindfulness . ¢. A. Herbsf Duns Scofus . Berard Vogt Aposfolic School . Slster M. Ange~ic]a Apparitions and Revelations . .~ugustlne G. Ellard Spirlfual Opiates . Joseph P. Fisher Saints in No-Man's Land . George Syrne =~uestions and Answers Beatifications, 1951-1952 Communications Book Reviews¯ NUMBER 4 RI VII:::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIII JULY, 1954 NUMBER CONTENTS RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS--3ordatt Aumann, O.P. 169 MARIAN YEAR PLAY . 178 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 178 MINDFULNESS~. A. Herbst, S.3 . 179 COMMUNICATIONS . ' . " . . 183 DUNS SCOTUS, DEFENDER OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEP-TION-- Berard Vogt, O,F.M . 184 THE APOSTOLIC SCHOOL--Sister M. Angeli¢ia, C.S.J . 187 SACRA VIRGINITAS . . . 192 OUR ADDRESSES . 192 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS: SOME CLASSIFICATIONS-- Augustine G. Ellard, S.J . 193 BEATIFICATIONS, 1951-1952 . 205 SPIRITUAL OPIATES-~Joseph P. Fisher, S.J . 207" TO ALL THE SAINTS IN NO-MAN'S LAND~George Byrne, S.3. 211 NEW CONGREGATIONS . 216 CONGRESS IN BUENOS AIRES . 217 COMMENTARY ON LITTLE OFFICE . . ' . 217 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 22. Advice for Mystic . . 218 23. The Occasional Confessor . 219 24. Approval for Revised Customary . 219 25. Licit Disposition of Income . 219 BOOK REVIEWS-- Kateri of the Mohawks; The All-Present God; The Holy Spirit in the Christian Life; Through Him, with Him, and in Him . 220 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 223 BOOKLETS AND PAMPHLETS . 224 NOTICE FOR PUBLISHERS . ¯ . 224 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1954, Vol. XIII, No. 4. Published bi-monthly: 3anhary, March, May,duly, 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, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.3. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Eilis, 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. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Religious Life and Modern Needs Jordan Aumann, O.P. THE General Congress On the States of Perfection, held at Rome in 1950 under the auspices of the Sacred Congregation of Religious and with the approval of Pope Pius XIi, brought to the attention of the Catholic ~orld the keen interest and paternal solicitude of the Supreme Pontiff for the condition of religious life in the modern~ world. The Congress, however, was not an unex-pected and isolated event; rather it was the culmination of a. well-laid i01an for the renewal of the primitive spirit in religious insti-tutes. As early as June, 1939, th~ Holy Father addressed 'an allocution to the members of the Gene'ral Chapter of the Friars Minor and urged them to striv~ earnestly to ,recapture the spirit of their Seraph'ic Father. Since that time, both the Holy Father and the Sacred Con-gregation of Religious have repeatedly admonished religious to re-new their interior spirit and adapt themselves to the urgent ne"eds of the presefit day. With the publication of the Acta et Documenta of the 1950 Congress, religious superiors have a handy guide for the fulfillment of the Pope's desires.1 The volume contains theological and can-onical treatises on the state of perfection as well ~.as many practical suggestioris for the adaptation and renewal that are'requested b,y the Holy See. The .Mind bf the Church ' Between 193~ and 1950, in'allocut-ions and letters to the Fran-ciscans, Jesuits, Redemptorists, Dominicans, and CanonS of St. Au-gustine, the Holy Father has stressed the need for certain adjust-ments in religious institutes in view of the conditions of modern life and for a revival of the spirit of the founders in the various in-stitutes, s, The Pontiff realizes all too keenly that in encouraging an ! !Cf. Acta et Documenta: Congressus General(s de Statibus Perfectionis, published in 1952 by Pia Sbciet;i San Paolo, Via Beato Pio X, Rome, Italy. sin an apostolic letter to the Society of Jesus on June 26, 1944, the Pope warned against the "heresy of action." In a letter to the Master General of the Domini- ¯ cans on July 16, 1946, he urged the Friars Preachers to hold fast to She regular life, monastic observances, assiduous study of sacred truth, and solemn recithtion of the Divine Office, warning them not to make a constant practice or custom of that whi'ch is only a laudable exception. ' 169 JORDAN AUMANN Review for Religious adaptation of the religious life and a return to the primitive'spirit of the founders, he is issuing a bold challenge to all religious insti-tutes. For that reason he has repeatedly warned that none of the essential elements of r'eligious life and spirit can be changed or jetti-soned, but only the accidentals and the techniques of the apos~tolat~. In his address to the Congress. on the States of' Perfectiori,3 Cardinal Piazza outlined the program of .ad,aptation and renewal and gave a precise expression of the intentions of the Holy Father this impor'tant matter. The central theme'of the Congress. w~is an accommodata renooatio, that is, a renewal of the primitive'spirit Of religious institutes adapted to the needs of the pr.esent day. Conse-quently, changes are to be made on two levels. First and most im-portant, there must be in every religious institute a return to the spirit that animated the founder and earliest members of that insti-tute. Secondly, adaptations and accommodations must be made in regard to the apostolate of each religious institute. Cardinal Piazza insisted that every religious institute should be a living continuation of the mind and spirit of its founder, for the , religious.life is ever actual and vital. If there is danger that this spirit is languishing in any institute, let that institute reform its structure, renew its directive organs, and refashion the means to end to fit the needs of the da3}. Yet, all this must be done with the approval of proper ecclesiastical authority. The best and most efficacious renewal of the spiril~ of any r~- ligious institute is a ~return to the spirit of the founder, an exact ob-' servance of the constitutions of that institute, and a promotion of common life and fraternal cha,rity. The dilemma proposed by the Cardinal can be expressed ver'y briefly: "Renew your spirit or die." But even in the midst of renewal and adaptation, major superiors Will avoid the shoals of extreme conservatism and a mania for nov-' elty. When it c~mes to the ques~i~on of adaptation in an3] religio~.s institute, the need is particularl~r felt in the field of the apostolate. Nevertheless, the urgency of the times ,demands an_d justifies an ad-justment in the accidental structure of the internal life of l~he ihsti-tute as well. Certain thing~ do not admit of a change without' the destruction of the institute. Such things belong to the substanfi~ii ele- 3Noti~ that the Congress was purposely designated as a congress on the states'of perfection in order to include the members of various secular institutes. "While not religious in a juridical sense, the members of secular institutes, since'they live un-der vow, nevertheless belong to the state of perfection. July, 1954 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS ment; for example, the juridical personality, the essence of thevows, the special' scope and characteristic spirit of the institute, and the ¯ common laws of religious life as found in the Code of Canon Law. But in regard to the methods and techniques used in the field Of the apostolate, great.adaptation is possible and desirable. If.the modern religious is not making contact with souls, if his schedule of life is at variance with that of the people to whom he is sent to min-ister, or if he is not as expert in his field of activity as are the laymen working in the same field, then'adjustments are surely in order. But at thi~ point religious superiors are reminded of the admonition of Pope Pius XII in his apostolic exhortation, Menti Nostrae, that new forms and methods in the apostolate must always be under the care and vigilance ot~ the bishops. For it is a regulation of canon law (cans. 456, 500, 630) that whenever religious are charged with the care Sf souls, they are subject to the local ordinary in that re-spect. In other words,' it is the mind of'the Pope that religious or-ders be bound by profound loyalty and obedience to: .the. Holy See and the'hierarchy. Adaptation, not Mitigation Solne religious may be tempted to welcome any change or adap-tation as a mitigation of the primitive spirit and regular observance. Both the Holy Father and representatives of the Sacred'Congrega-tion of Religious have warned that such is not the intention of the ¯ Ho!y See. In :a stirring address to the 1950 Congress, Father R. Lombardi, S.J., stated that if the needs of the time are great, so also is the need for truly religious men and women. The Church today needs religious who are animated by true charity and detachment from the things of the world, and we should expect to find many such.religious in the various institutes.' Unfortunately, we some-times find that those very men and women who have publicly bound themselves to the serious obligation of striving after perfec-tion under the vows are content to do the very minimum that is re-quired or, what is worse, they turn back again,to the very things they have voluntarily surrendered. "The times also require, said Father Lombardi, religious supe-riors who will have the leade~rship and courage to revive the spirit of the foun.ders in their own institute or province. No adaptation or renewal can come .from belo.w; it must come from those who .before God are res.ponsib!e in a large measure for the religious observance and p.e?sonal holiness of their subjects. Cofisequently, superiors have a difficult task. They are not entrus'ted with the mere enforcement. 171~. JORDAN AUMANN Reuieu~ [or Religious of an inflexible law; they must understand the needs of the times, the talents and weaknesses of their subjects, and the spirit ~f their religious institute. The superior must in every instance stri~re to act in the same way that the founder would act were he alive today. Consequently, the revival of the primitive spirit and an 'adapta-tion to present-day needs can in no sense be understgod or inter-preted as an excuse for the m~tigation of the rules and practices, of religiousllife. The Holy See has insisted that the spirit of the insti-tute, its proper e'nd and scope, and all that is requ!red for the pres-ervation of its spirit and end must be carefully safeguarded and pre-served. The renovation must be inteinal and spiritual. To think that a mere change in the legislation of a religious in-stitute will effect this renovation is as dangerous as it is erroneous. Such an attitude, stated Bishop Ancel of Lyons, is an implicit be-lief in a kind of materialism which holds that mere structural modi-fications suffice to provide the desired renovatioh. The real purpose, of the renovation is to, revivify the primitive spirit of the institute and to help the members strive more successfully after Christian,per-fection. .Only fervent religious can stand an adaptation and only strong religious can live for any length of time under dispensations. But, the Bishop continued, the desired renovation and adaptation will not come about merely by having superiors insist on the literal ob-servance of the constitutions. We must at no time lose sight of the two elements contained in the present program: revi'val of the primi-tive spirit of the institute and an adaptation to the requirements of the apostolate. Interior Life and the Apostolate No religious institute exists primarily for the apostolate or for any particular work. in, the Church. The Basis of the religious'life is the profession of vows which are used as instruments in attaining the perfection of charity. The primary purpose of the religious in-stitute is the sanctification of its members. Consequently, the true vocation and goal of the individual religious is to strive to become a .saint and the primary function of the religious superior is to assist and guide subjects to'sanctity, especially by fostering observance of the constitutions of th'e institute. This point is all important for a correct understanding'and evaluation of the religious life.4 4Cf. the,, definition of the religious state in canon 487, the statement of the purpose of religiou~ life in canon 488. and the enumeration of the obligations of religious superiors in canons 592-95. ~ 172 , JuI~,1954 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS But Christian perfection and sanctity consist primarily in char-ity, which is an interior perfection. To this end, the con~tltutions of religious institutes prescribe an external conduct and mode of life that will lead religious more readily to the perfection of charity. Thus, the constitutions of 'the Dominican.Order explicitly state that the four essential means for attaining Dominican sanctity are the regular life, monastic observances, the study of sacred truth, and the solemn recita.tion of the Divine Office and that none of these means may be substantially altered. If the constitutions of a religious institute have received the ap-probation of the Holy See,it is because they have been judged fitting means- to the attainment of evangelical perfecuon. It follows, there-fore, that whatever touches upon the essence of the vows and the substantial elements of the regular life cannot be modified or changed without destroying-the religious life as it is juridically de-fined by the Church. Moreover, no religious subject or superior is free to abandon permanently any of these substantial elements of the constitutions of his institute,s In addition to those elements that pertain to the very essence of religious life, the constitutions contain particular legislation for the preseryation of xhe spirit and aim of the institute. In this 'respect also there are things that cannot be changed without destroying the distinctive spirit and character of the religious institute. Thus, liturgical prayer is characteristic of Benedictine life, the assidu6us study of sacred truth is the mark of the Friar Preacher,. and p.o,v,- -erty is the dominant note in Franciscan life. ~ The above elements pertain to the interior life of the members of a religious institute and are directed to the attainment of pe'rfec-tion. For that reason they are of primary importance. But the Church also 'approves of a mission or apostolate for each religious in~itute, with the understanding, however, that the ~hurch may subsequently restrict or enlarge the scope of the apostolate without destroying the nature and spirit of the' institute itself. For the ~apos-t61ate is and always remains a secondary element in the religious 5The religious under vows has promised obedience to the constitutions as expressed and commanded by his superior, but the religious superior does not have unlimited power in giving commands. He must abide by the limitations placed on his au-thority by those same constitutions. The subject has vowed to obey what is-in the constitutions; the superior may not gratuitously abolish any prescriptions in the constitutions nor may he demand more of the subject than the constitutions themselves demand. ¯ 173 JORDAN AUMANN Review for Religious life; the first and most important function of any religious institute is the sanctification of its members.6 From what has been said, it follows that success in the aposto-late as a preacher, teacher, writer, or social worker is not a necessary. indication of the holiness and worth of a religious. Success in these activities may just as ~asily be the result of purely natural talent, ambition, pride, or t~e love of financial gain. A religious is not a good religious except through the observance of the constitutions which he vowed to use as a pattern and guide in his struggle for holiness. Indeed, even that does not suffice, for the observance of rules is of no value for sanctification unless motivated in some way by the love of God. The energy consumed in the labors df the apostolate, the hours spent in the classroom, pulpit, or sickroom, the inconvenience of traveling from one mission to another--none of these is the sole criterion of the value' and worth of a religious. For it is not the work that makes us holy, but the love with which we do it. This does not mean that the activity of the apostolate need ever be an obstacle to deep spirituality or even to the observance of one's constitutions. The admonitions of the Holy Father are very clear on this point. The present Pontiff encourages modern religious to strive with all their hearts to become apostles in the true sense of the word. And surely, such great founders as St. Francis, St. Dominic, and' St. Ignatius have shown us that exhausting labors are com-patible with profound sanctity. What was the secret of their suc-cess? It was due in no small measure to the fact that they never ceased to be great lovers of God and souls and .men of prayer.7 6In the ancient religious orders there was a much closer relationship between the aim or scope of the institut~ and the spirit of the institute, so that in some cases it may be difficult to change the aim of the institute without destroying the peculiar character of the institute itself. This is especially true of the older contemplative and mixed orders. The same situation does not hold true in regard to the modern active institutes. Nevertheless the same principle applies to all forms of religious" life: the work of the apostolate should proceed from a deep interior life. 7What is to be done when the individual religious judges that excessive activity is harmful to his growth in sanctity? Objectively, the answer is simple: the first obligation of the religious is to sanctify himself; the primary function of the su-perior is to help his subjects grow in holiness. But if the superior insists that the activity be continued, what can the subject do but obey, trusting to find a way to use excessive work as an instrument of sanctification and letting the superior an-swer to God if there be any culpability in such a situation? In an allocution to the Discalced Carmelites in September, 1951, the Holy Father warned superiors that they are not to be infected with a machine-age mentality so that they treat their subjects like so many machines and lose sight of the human personality. 174 dul~ , 1954 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS. Once it has been seen that the primary purpose of th~ re.ligious life is the sanctification of,its members° and that the apos~olat( should rightly prdceed from a deep interior life, it should bk evident that there is no contradiction or paradox in the directives that have beenissued from the Holy See. The first task is the revival of~ the primitiye spirit of religious institutes and a concerted effort to bring all religious back to regular observance and th~ common life. Then, the major superiors, following the directives of the Holy" See, will make suitable adaptations of that revitalized religious life to the needs of modern Christians. In some cases the adaptations may take unexpected turns. It may mean that this or that religious institute will find it necessary to abandon parishes in areas where there is no longer a shortage of diocesan clergy; others will realize that they have drifted into all manner of apostolic works, good in themselves, but outside the scope of the institute and the aim of the founder; still others will discover that they have almost completely aban-doned the principal work which was entrusted to them by the Church. It is at this point that couragequs superiors will be needed, for there is a strong temptation to succumb to passive disobedience to the Hol.y See. As Cardinal Piazza pointed out in his discourse at the 1950 Congress, if religious do not live their constitutions as conscientiously as possible and hold themselves to .the aim and work of their institute, there is no longer any distinction among religious institutes and, therefore, no reason for their existence as dist'inct groups or societies. Points for Adaptation In the various allocutions, letters, speeches, and written reports published in the Acta et Documenta of the Congress on the States of Perfection, certain points have been stressed in regard to the desired ad~aptations of religious life to modern needs. While allowing for different circumstances in various countries and religious institutes~ there are general lines which such adaptations should follow. More-over, all adaptations should be visualized and planned against,the background of the Pope's admonition that proper ecclesiastical " channels are to be observed. Observations on the cloister are to be found in Sponsa Christi as well as other documents~ that have been issued,by the Holy~ See. There is no indication that an attempt is being made to abandon the cloister; rather, the cloister is to be safeguarded even when reli-gious institutes assume some form of the apostolate that brings.the 175 ,JORDAN AUMANN Review [or Religious members into close contact with the world. It is still true that the world is to be kept out of the cloister as much as possible and that the religious are to leave the cloister only~ to bring the things of God to the world. The Holy Fat~er has urged many times that religious should make use of modern inventions in the work of' the apostolate and that they should equal and even surpass lay people in the same areas of work. But work for the sake of work or work done for a purely natural motive has never been advocated. If the apostolate is un-dertaken with such an attitude, it can be as much an obstacle to the perfection of the religious as any other impediment to spiritual growth. Much less should the works of the apostolate be measured or' motivated by purely monetary values. The apostle is such by reason of his love of God, his. commission by the ,Church, and his zeal for souls. As to the religious habit (and this principally affects .women religious), the Pope advised the teaching religious in September, 1951: "The religious habit: choose it in such a way that it becomes the expression of inward naturalness, of simplicity and spiritual modesty." Many congregations have been prompt to obey this suggestion of the Pope and have refashibned habits and veils that were unsanitary, uncomfortable, and a source ,of amazement to the laity. At various times the Hdly Father has stressed the importance if the common life and urged that superiors be truly paternal (or ma- ~ternal). The religious life should be a family life and the superiors~ should respect the individual personalities of their subjects while the subjects hold each other in truly fraternal affection. So ~losely is the common life linked with the vows and regular observance that it can be said to be the very foundation of religious spirit and dis-cipline. Consequently, anything that militates against the common life--such as personal income, excessive individualism, prolonged absences from the cloister, or unreasonable dispensations from com-munity exercises--should be eliminated as much as possible. Lastly, the very Constitutions tha~ regulate the life of an institute may at times be in need of adaptation. In his address to teaching religious the Ho~ly Father observed: "Followed in letter and in spirit,-your constitutions, too, facilitate and bring the Sister all she .needs and must do in our time to be a good teacher and educator. ¯ . .' It is possible that some details of the school schedules, certain 176 duly, 1954 ° RELIGIOUS LIFE AND MODERN NEEDS regulations--simple applications of .the Rule---certain customs which were, perhaps, in harmony with past conditions but Which today merely hinder educational work, must be adapted to new cir-cu'mstances. Let superiors and general chapters proceed in this mat-ter conscientiously, with foresight, prudence, and courage, and, where the case demands, let them not fail to submit the proposed changes to t~he competent eccles{astical authorities."_ American Adaptations It may seem that the directives and suggestions of the Holy See have little application in the United States, since from the very be-ginning there has been an'adaptation of religious life to the needs of the times. However, we shall undoubtedly find, after an honest self-examination, that we have been somewhat remiss in regard to the second aspect of the quest'ion: the renewal of the primitive reli-gious spirit and the subsequent deepening of the interigr life. Th'ree dangers or excesses especially threaten the religious life in the United States: naturalism, the loss of the spirit of mortification, and ex-cessive activity. In a country where there are many demands on the religious in the field of the apostolate and where there is no long-standing tra-dition of a Catholic" culture, it is understandable that naturalism may quite easily pervade the religious life. If the religious observ-ances and customs seem foreign or artificial to ~he American tem-perament and if the religious habit itself is gradually looked upon as an academic gown or judge's robe, to be worn only for certain functions, the religi6us may readily lose sight of the meaning of re-ligious life. Only a serious attempt to live the regular life and to actualize the spirit of his institute will make the religious con. stantly aware of his distinct state. Only a deepening interior life and super-naturai motivation will preserve the religious from the taint of naturalism. The loss of the spirit of mortification may be due in large part to the fact that many religious live under a permanent dispen-sation from the penances and mortifications prescribed by their con-stitutions, as well as the fact that the standard of life in the United States is noticeably higher than that of other countries. Whatever be the cause, there is no doubt that the universal teaching of spir-itual writers on the necessity of mortification in the spiritual life has never lost its value. Here again, a more scrupulous observhnce of the constitutions and a revival of the primitive sp_irit of the religious 177 JORDAN AUMANN : institute will go a long, way to check the inroads of mitigatibn and laxity. "Sufficient has already been said concerning the true role of action and t~e apostolate in the religious and spiritual life. It remains merely to observe that religious who are overburdened with many external activities can har'dly hope to be scholar~, writers, or stu-dents; religious who return to the cloister in a state of nervous ex-haustion are rarely in a mood that is conducive to prayer, medita-tion, or the common life; and religious who live only for the works of the apostolate are in danger of drying up at the source and of missing the real purpose of their religious profession: to strive for personal sanctity. The HQIy Father has imposed upon religious the twofold task of reviving the primitive spirit of their founders and of adapting re-ligious life and work to the needs of the Church today. It is a chal-lenge to religious to live as perfectly as possible the life which they have voluntarily embraced. If the task is accepted and the challenge is answered, we shall undoubtedly begin, to raise up saints for our times. MARIAN YEAR PLAY Counted as Mine is a play of three acts, six scenes, with a modern-dress cho-rus, suitable for performance by high school and college students or by little the-atre groups and parish drama clubs: It is the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Hope of America. Written by a Poor Clare, the author of the play, Candle in Umbria, and of the book of poems, Whom I Hao'e Looed. $1.00 per copy. Order from: Rev. Mother M. Immaculata, P.C., Poor Clare Monastery of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Route 1, Box 285-C, Roswell, New Mexico. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JORDAN AUMANN teaches at the College of Saint Teresa, Winona, Minnesota, and is the literary editor of the Cross and Crown Series of Spirituality. C.A. HERBST is a spiritual director and teacher at the Jesuit Juniorate at Florissant, Missouri. 'BERARD VOGT, of Christ the King Seminary, St. Bonaventure, New York, is a leading authority on the teaching of the great Franciscan theologian, John Duns Scotus. SISTER M. ANGELICIA is professor of psychology and edu-cation at Marymount College, Salina, Kansas. AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD is a mem-ber of our editorial board. GEORGE BYRNE is professor of ascetical theology at Milltown Park, Dublin, Ireland. JOSEPH P. FISHER is master of novices at Flo-rissant, Missouri. 178 , /V indt:ulness C. A. Herl~st, S.J. ROUTINE can be a blight in the religious life. It can be like the rust of which Our Lord spoke, which consumes, or like the thief that breaks through and steals, treasures of potential merit for eternal life. We want to give our life to God whole-heartedly. That is what a religious is supposed to do. They espe-cially are called religious, says St. Thomas, "who dedicate their whole life to the divine service, withdrawing themselves from worldly affairs" (II-II, q. 81, a. !. ad 5). We want to real-ize our ?eligious life, to make it real, to make it religious life. Oh, yes, we go through each day of our life in religion according to the order of the day from the time we rise in the morning till we go to bed at night. We do our work and are obedient and all that, but how much of all this is mech~inical! We just go through the motions often, whereas in a life dedicated to God our aim ought to be to put our whole heart, as much as possible, into each of our actions. When we pronounce our vows, we make our religious profes-sion. We profess publicly and solemnly to lead a religious life. That is our way of life now. We profess to practice the virtues of ¯ religious living in°a striking expert way. We are professionals. We follow the profession of religion, and religion is the virtue by which we render God due worship and reverence. We are supposed to be perfectionists at that. Nothing but the best is good enough for us. That is what everybody expects of one who'follows a profession, who'claims to be expert in his specialty. A doctor of medicine is supposed and expected to be first-rate in his' line. He is expected to have the best technique, to keep up on the most up-to-date medical practices and procedures, to know his field thoroughly, to read the most recent medical journals, to consult with other specialists. Woe to the medical man who fails in any of these things! His sloth or carelessness or neglect will soon bring him into ill repute in a pro-fession where the standards are so high. He may lose his patients and will be forced to drop out of his profession. Religious are professionals. They profess to give their whole attention to the practices of the religious life, a life lived in com-mon under a rule in the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence, }~n which they are obliged to tend to perfection. In order to 179 C. A. HERBST Reoiew for Religious maintain the high standards of our profession we must be raindful of our obligations. To practice poverty properly, we must be mind-ful of poverty~ We are mindful of our vow of poverty when we frequently call to mind that we have a vow of poverty. So it is good to renew our vow often. We should do this especiall~ when we are called upon to practice it. After all, we take the vow in order to practice the virtue. As we are so often told, anyone can take a vow; but practicing it carefully is a different matter. T.he b~st way to be mindful of poverty is to wish to experience at times some of its effects; or, better, to see to it that we actually do experience them. I want to get along without things. I do not want what I do not need. And, since our poverty consists rather in dependence than in penur% I want to get permission for thifigs, I am eager to ask permission for things. When I doubt whether I need permissign or not, I get it anyway because I want to feel the effects of poverty. When I ask.permisSion for things I say, "I vow poverty to my Blessed Savior." I want what He had. I want to feel it as He did. I want to be mindful that being rich He became poor for our sakes, that through His poverty I might be rich (cf. II Cor. 8:9). Nor do I want to "stick" to things. If I have some little thing I very much like and feel attached to, I get permission to give it away. If'we are mindful of a thing, we think of it often.' If we are mindful of a thing, we love it. "Where your freasure is there is your heart also," Our Lord said. When I am mindful of chastity, I love it, I treasure it. When we loveand treasure a" tiling, we are very careful of it. We take no chances on having it soiled or on losing it. As a virgin soul in love with the Son of God and the Son of Mary, I treasure chastity, I love chastity, I jealously guard chas-tity, I am careful of chastity, I am mindful of this wonderful virtue so lovingly enshrined in my vow and 'often say, "I vow chastity to my Blessed Savior." "I want what You had," I say to Him. So We are very circumspect about persons, places, and things. When we are mindful of chastity, we are not scrupulous but just careful in our dealings with others, of where we go and what we do and hear and see. It__ is foolish to look for trouble. There are many temptations we need not have, should not have, dare not have. If we are careless in what we see and read, try to hear everything, let the sensuous and pleasure-loving world in through all the avenues of our se,nses, and are always seeking the comfortable and avoiding the disagreeable, we are not mindful of the defenses of chastity. We 180 dul~], 1954 " , MINDFULNESS practice mortification of the senses and shun worldliness in order to guard the outworks of this beautiful and delicate virtue. When I keep the rules of modesty, I am mindful of chastity. When I mor-tify my eyes, my ears, and my affections, I prove that I love the purity of Christ. When often during each day, in practicing these little mortifications, I say, "I vow chastity to my Blessed Savior," I am mindful of my determination to lead a virgin life. I am mindful of my vow of obedience when, on being told to do a thing I do it and pray, "I vow obedience to my Blessed Savior." Obedience of execution--that is, doing externally what I am told to do--is obedience of the first degree; but I am not satisfied with that. If I am truly mindful of obedience, I want to pass to a higher de-gree. I not only do what I am told but want to do it, will what the superior wills because that is God's ~will for me. I'line up my will with that of the superior because in doing that I am conforming my will to God's will. That is love: the union of two wills. I am still more mindful of obedience if I try to see things the superior's way, conform my mind° and judgment to his way of thinking. This is the third and highest degree of obedience; sometimes called "blind" obedience, it is not really blind at all but rather very keen-visioned and enlightened. When I am thoroughly mindful of obedience, I obey not only faithfully and willingly and lovingly but with joy. The perfect and infinitely lovable model of obedience is Jesus at Nazareth. With what joy this loving Child must have obeyed Joseph and Mary! One can scarcely imagine anything like reluctance or sourness in Our Lord's obedience. The atmosphere was filled with gladness in that wonderful home. And so it should be in ours; and that not only in the practice of obedience, but of poverty and chastity too. What gives me the greatest consolation in my religious life is that, when I "do what the superior says, follow carefully the order of the day and the prescriptions of the rule and the customs of the house, etc., I am most certainly doing God's will. I just cannot make a mistake in being perfectly obedient. Should an official in the house, or the local superior, or the highest superior for that matter, make a mistake, I myself am doing God's will by obeying in everything save sin. I show that I am mindful.of obedience by doing lovingly and joy-fully for God whatever I am directed to do. To be mindful of poverty, chastity, and obedience: to expressly renew my vows and prayerfully and carefully bring my actions under them and so practice the virtues they enshrine: this indeed is a 18"1 C. A~ HERBST Review for Religious bl~ssed mindfulness. To be mindful, too, that I am profssional, that in the service of God I am following the highest of professions here on this earth, will b~ing my religious life to its "highest vi[ality. There are some other things, too, of which I should be mindful in order that I may lead a vigorous and highly meritorious religious life. Purity of intention--frequently, fervently, lo4ingly re-offer-ing to.God all my works and prayers' and joys and sufferings for the salvation and sanctification of myself and others, in adoration, reparation, thanksgiving, and petition--is one of the chief general means to perfection. To say frequently, fervently, thoughtfully, lovingly, "All for 3esus through Mary," or "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost," is to turn all our good or indifferent actions into the pure gold of merit for eternal life and to win for souls graces beyond measure. Mindfulness too of the presence of God is a wonderful, easy, joyous, consoling, and elevating practice. The Old Testament seems to have emphasized the idea of God present near and around us; the law of love brought by Christ Our Lord emphasizes God within us. "If any man love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make our abode with him" (3ohn 14:23). God, the Most Holy Trinity, lives in my soul as in His temple, as in His shrine. How the pray-erful, lingering, loving thought of this presence rejoices and elevates the soul! And He lives not in my soul only, but in my body. "Know you not that your members are the temple of the Holy Ghost, w, ho is in you, whom y6u have from God; and you are not your own?" (I Cor. 6:19). "Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? But if any man violate the temple of God, him shall God destroy. For the temple of God is holy, which you are" (I cor. 3:16-17). "Not my will but thine be done" was Our Lord's repeated prayer in the Garden of Olives. He is but praying here as He taught us all to pray in the perfect prayer, the Our Father. To be mindful of this under the aspect of abandonment to God's holy will in the duty of the present moment will bring great peace and joy into the heart of a religious. No one, I think, has ever presented this in finer fashion than Father de Caussade in his book Abandonment to Di-vine Providence. "The present moment is the ambassador of God to declare His mandates. The heart listens and pronounces its 'fiat.' . . . No soul can be truly nourished, fortified, purified, en-riched, and sanctified except in fulfilling the duties of the present 182 dult!, 19 5 4 COMMUNICATIONS moment. What more would you have? As in this you can find all good, why seek it elsewhere?° Do you kno.w better than God? As He ordains it thus why do you desire it differently? Can His good-ness and wisdom be deceived? When you find something to be in accordance with this divine wisdom and goodness ought you not to conclude that it must needs be excellent?" (I, i, 5 and 7.) Finally, there is mindfulness of the greatest of all the virtues, charity. "And the greatest of these is charity." "Love one an-other." This is the new commandment which the Divine Son brought down to Us from the bosom of our Father. This is the law of love. We should be mindful especially of Christ in our breth-ren. See Him there and love Him there. "What you do to these the least of m~rb r/ethren you do unto me." If we were mindful of this there would be an end to harsh and uncharitable attitudes of mind toward others and to rash judgments. Uncharitable talk and criticism would be no more, nor jealousy, nor faultfinding, nor deeds that wound the soul. Mindfulness of Christ in our brethren is most important in a religious family. It makes a heaven of a re-ligious house. "Little children, love one another." ommun{catdons Reverend Fathers : In the November, 1952, number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I read a communication by Sister M. Immaculata, P.C. (Abbess). I was forcibly struck by this statement. "It is not what enriches us but what effaces us that leads to union with God" (p. 314). This very sentence has ever been and continues to be a positive mental and spiritual stimulus in my spiritual life. It has helped me more than any sermon or conference to conquer pride, especially pride of am-bition. It smoothed many a rough place for me. When pride as-serted itself and all was in a turmoil, this sentence proved to be a sacramental by calming my spirit and restoring peace. I hereby wish to express my grateful appreciation to Sister M. Immaculatao P.C.--TEACHING SISTER. 183 Duns Scot:us, Det:encler ot: t:he Jmmaculal:e Concepl:ion Berard Vogt, O.F.M. JOHN DUNS SCOTUS was born in Scotland in 1266. He entered the Franciscan Order at an early age and pursued his studies at Oxford. One of the more eminent theologians of the thirteenth century, he taught with great distinction both at Ox-ford and at Paris. He was called to Cologne in the summer of 1308 and died there unexpectedly in November of the same year. Duns Scotus is the leader of the Franciscan school of philosophy and theology. It is a historical fact .that popular Catholic tradition for centuries inclined towards belief in the doctrine of the Immaculate Concep-tion, as is evident from the introduction of a special feas~ of the Im-maculate Conception into the liturgy of the Church and from the gradual spread of the feast throughout Christendom. But the the-ologians and Doctors of the Church hesitated to ascribe this beauti-ful privilege to Mary because they found it impossible to solve cer-tain inherent difficulties, until Scotus appeared upon the scene and offered his p~e-redemption solution which p~epared the way for and ultimately was incorporated into the solemn dogmatic definition of the Immaculate Conception. The central difficulty was the Pauline teaching concerning the' need of universal redemption, found in the Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans: "Through one man sin entered the world, and through sin death, and thus death has passed into all men, because all have sinned." Duns Scotus made two important contributions to the contro-v'~ rsy. Admitting that Mary as a descendant of Adam stood in need of redemption because of the sin of Adam, he offered a novel solution to the subtle difficulties which had for so long baffled theo-logians by introducing into the solution of the problem the idea of pre-redempti6n and a distinction between order of nature and order of time. ' The views of the theologians may be stated generally by quoting the following passsage from the Summa of St. Thomas: "If tBe soul ot~ the Blessed Virgin had never been defiled by original sin, I84 gulg, J954 $ DuNSSCOTUS this Would derogate from the dignity of Christ according to which He is the Redeemer of all mankind. It may be said, therefore, that under Christ, who as universal Savior needed not to be saved Him-self, the Blessed Virgin enjoyed the highest, measure of purity. For Christ in no wise contracted original sin, but was holy in His ~¢ery conception . The Blessed Virgin, however, did contract original sin, but was cleansed therefrom before birth." (III, q. 27, a. 2, ad 2.) The Subtle Doctor answers this argument as follows: on the contrary, in defending Mary's prerogative of the Immaculate Con-ception, I am in fact attributing a more exalted and perfect role of redeemer to Christ, inasmuch as redeeming grace Which preserves from original sin is g,reater than that which merely-purifies from sin incurred. Christ was Mary's Redeemer and Mediator more per-fectly by preservative redemption. By preserving Mary from original sin in view of the foreseen merits of His sacrifice .on Calvary, Christ not merely redeemed her, but pre-redeemed her. This implies far greater grace and a far greater excellency of redemption. Scotus thus laid to rest the century-old objections derived from the Pauline doctrine concerning the need of universal redemp-tion, found al?eady with St. Augustine, St. Anselm, and St. Ber-nard, and later with the scholastic doctors. Rightly understood the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception will not offer any difficulty pre~centing Mary's noble prerogative. The need of incurring orig-inal sin, and equally the need of universal redemption by Christ, was not denied by Scotus. Nor did he claim that Mary as a daughter of Adam escaped this universal law. Mary was a d~lughter of Adam, he explained, before she was an adopted daughter of God. Therefore she was subject to original sin and in need of redemption. As a child of A'dam, she would in the ordinary course of events and according to the ordinary course of nature have incurred Adam's debt like other men. But in the order of time God could give her sanctifying, grace at the very moment of her conception. In this way Mary, though a child of Adam in the order of nature, would be made a child of God by the infusion of grace"before original sin could take effect in her soul. Inasmuch as generation precedes sanctification, Mary was a daughter of Adam before she became an adopted daughter of God. Therefore, she must have been in need of redemption, because sub-ject to original sin. But though in the order of our thoughts our 185 BER!kRD VOGT minds may dwell on Mary---conceived first as a daughter of Adam and then sanctified as a daughter of God, this does not imply a pri-ority of time which would demand in the soul of Mary" two succes-sive states, one of sin and the other of grace. There is only in her at the first moment of her existence a twofold relation: that of a daughter of Adam, for which she was indebted to her. human gen-eration, subject to the common law and establishing the debt of sin; and that of a daughter of God, which she owes to the privileged sanctification which protected her from the consequences of the common law find extinguished in her the debt of sin by a special ap-plication of the foreseen merits of the Savior. The Subtle Doctor sums up his views thus: "Mary, then, needed redemption more than anyone else. She needed redemption so much the more, the greater the good conferred upon her. Since perfect innocence is a greater good than remission of sin after a fall, a greater good was conferred upon her (by her Divine Son) by pre-serving her from original sin, than if she had been purified after-wards. Neither was it necessary on that account that Christ should have first suffered, because Abraham was purified from orig-inal sin which was in his person by virtue of the foreseen Passion of Christ." (Rep. III, dist 3, Qu. I, n. 8; ed. Vives xxiii, p. 264.) Duns Scotus exercised enduring powerful influence on the devel-opment and eventual dogmatic proclamation of the doctrine of the, Immaculate Conception. By his historic defense with its luminous definitions and distinctions, e.g., his pre-redemption theory and his suggestion of a distinction between the order of nature and the order of time, the Subtle Doctor cleared the dogmatic ground and greatly contributed to a final victorious solution. Cardinal Merry del Val in a letter to Fr. P. Pauwels, July 4, 1904, says of Scotus that he carried the torch of Mary's non-for-feiture of grace as on the crest of a wave to its ultimate triumph. ABOUT FRAUDS Some people who want to get money without effort are wont to request gifts and Mass stipends in the names of certain priests and missionaries. The victims, real or intended, are often sisters. Some priests whose names have been used in this way suggest that all such requests be refused unless those making the requests. can furnish positive identification. Similarly, we might again call attention to the fact that no one is authorized to solicit subscriptions for this REVIEW, 186 The Apos!:olic School Sister M. Angelicia, C.S.J. AT A GENERAL CHAPTER conducted at the Nazareth Motherhouse of the Sisters of Saint doseph of Concordia, Kansas, in dune, 1953, it was decided that an approach should be made toward the organization of a school for aspirants to the religious life which would be in connection with the mother-house. A committee was appointed to investigate the possibilities of such an organization. The first step taken by the committee was to locate convents or motherhouses to which were attached such schools for aspirants. As indicated in the Catholic Directory, there were sixty-eight mother-houses having schools similar to the type which the community had in mind. For the purpose of gathering information relative to the new project a questionnaire was formulated and was sent to each of these sixty-eight motherhouses. Fifty-seven, or approxi-mately eighty-four per cent, of the questionnaires were returned. The information received was both interesting and enlightening. The questionnaire, together with a digest of the answers, is given at the conclusion of this article. Before taking further steps in the organization of this school, we consulted the local ordinary, the Most Reverend Frank A. Thill, D.D., Bishop of Salina. The project met with his whole-hearted approval, as will be seen later in his letter to the priests of his diocese, as well as in those addressed to parents and their chil-dren. Moreover, since our congregation is a papal institute, and since our constitutions state explicitly that no new works are to be added without the permission of the Holy See, the mother general inquired from an official source whether the permission of the Sacred Congregation of Religious would be needed. She was informed that, in view of the remarks made by Father Arcadio Larraona, Secretary of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, at the 1952 meeting of superiors general in Rome, special permission of the Holy See was not needed for starting this school. A resum~ of Father Larraona's remarks has been made public. Since its contents were very helpful to us, and since it seems to be of vital importance to anyone planning to organize a school for aspi-rants, we quote this resum6 in full: 187 SISTER M. ANGELICIA Review for Religious "Apostolic schools are of comparatively recent origin, the .earli-est of them dating from about the middle of the last century. They have now become increasingly common in religious communities of women, as they are the general practice in communities of men. The Holy See has issued practically no legislation on the organization of such apostolic schools. The S. Congregation is patiently awaiting the guidance of experience. "These apostolic schools are not permitted by the S. Congrega-tion for cloistered nuns, or for religious whose lives closely approxi-mate to that of cloistered nuns. This is not.a real law of the Holy See, but rather a guiding norm, based on Rome's desire to avoid any semblance of pressure when there is question of a vocation calling for such special qualities as those required by the contemplative life. "The S. Congregation regards apostolic schools as internal schools of a religious community. This point is of canonical im-portance in determining the degree of freedom to be allowed the community in the organization and administration of these schools: a) those which do not require any actual signs of vocation to the religious life: b) those which demand at least the seeds of vocation to the religious life; c) those which require signs of a vocation to a specific type of religious life. "In any case, the organization and rules of an apostolic school should not lose sight of the fact that the girls in them are young. The atmosphere as far as possible, shoul~l be that of a family. The apostolic schools should not be turned into a noviciate in miniature. There should be nothir;g to interfere with the full freedom of the candidates in the final determination of their vocation. The pro-gram of studies should not be so highly specialized as to make ad-justment to a different type of life outside difficult. Teach the girls, first of all, to live good Christian lives. No asceticism at ,the expense of the moral law. Avoid~ whatever might even remotely result in deformation of the natural qualities and virtues of the candidates.''I With encouragement coming from every .direction, especially from our bishop, for the opening of an apostolic school by the Sisters of Saint 3oseph, it was thought best to begin,to make it known to the public. Publicity concerning the school appeared in many Catholic papers. The two most important announcements 1Cf. Acta et Documenta Congressu~ lnternationalig Superiorissarurn "Generalium, 1952, p. 274. These remarks on apostolic schoq!s form one part of Father Lar-raona's "Concluding Instructions addressed to the Reverend Mothers General," on the last day of their meeting in Rome, September 11-13, 1952. 188 Jul~,1954 THI~ APOSTOLIC SCHOOL were those ap1~aring in the diocesan Catholic Register. The first of these, entitled "Apostolic School to be Opened in Concordia in 1954," appeared in the November 1'5, 1953, issue of the Catholic Register. Excerpts from this article are as follows: "Concordia.--In the fall of 1954 the Sisters of Saint Joseph will open an Apostolic School in connection with their Mother-house in Concordia. "This preparatory school is intended for young girl's who show signs of a religious vocatio,n and who wish to join th~ Congregation of the Sisters of. Saint Joseph when circumstances permit. It is especially for those aspirants to the religious life who have not the opportunity of attending a Catholic h~gh school or who are placed in circumstances detrimental to a religious vocation. "The mode of life at the preparatory or Apostolic School will be practically the same as that of resident,students at an academy. The young women will follow the regular high school course as prescribed by the State Department of Education. All the advan-tages of the regular high school course will be available to the stu-dents in the Apostolic School . "Work in the classroom will be regularly and agreeably inter-rupted by daily indoor and outdoor recreational activities. The girls of this school will be allowed to return to their families during the summer vacation as Well as Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter vacations. "Those interested, .or who desire further information, may write to the Mother General, Nazareth Motherhouse, Concordia, Kansas." Bishop Thill .not only gave his whole-hearted support to the organization of an a~ostolic school but he asked that each parish in the Salina diocese finance the monthly board and tuition fee at the new apostolic school for any deserving girl whose parents could not afford the sum. His Excellency announced simultaneously that he was prepared to accept personal financial responsibility for ten such girls in the school of the Sisters of the Congregation of Saint Joseph of Concordia. Excerpts from the Bishop's letter concerning the school are as follows: "Rev, erend dear Fathers, Venerable Religious, Parents and Chil-dren : ' "Because I simply do not believe there is any such thing as a Divine vocation to embrace the, wrong vocation, I am concerned in a very vital and humane way with the establishment of the new 189 SISTER M. ANGELICIA Reoiew [or Religious Apostolic School by our Sisters of the Congregation of St. 3oseph of Concordia. I have been a priest too long, and a Chancellor and ¯ a Bishop, to be able to see anything desirable or even tolerable in the crushing frustrations and black unhappiness that burden so many men and women in our modern world. "In other words, I want to see the largest possible number of girls in this diocese given the opportunity to spend the critical years of their l~ves in an atmosphere that will help them to put first things first . It does not matter if the girls who enroll become religious sisters or not. Many of them will; but those who don't will have a first-class Catholic high school education, fitting them for places of trust and leadership in the parishes from which they come . "The openin~ of this school will certainly be good news to the pastors of the diocese. I recommend its purpose and its needs to the consideration of all our priests, and I hope they will agree with me in thinking it worthy of our enthusiastic and generous sup-port . "In conclusion, may I say to all of you, priests, people and children, that today's struggle is not primarily and exclusively a struggle against anything at all including even the struggle against bad tendencies and sin. It is, more fundamentally still, a struggle for something. Indeed, it is a struggle to be something, to be another Christ, possessed by the torrent of His life and of His love that alone can save the world. " As this paper is being, written the applications ot: aspirants to the apostolic school are coming in in a very satisfactory manner. If these applications continue they should gealize an enrollment of at least thirty students or aspirants to the religious life when the school opens in September, 1954. The Questionnaire and Replies I. DO. YOU MAINTAIN A PREPARATORY. SCHOOL FOR THE RELI-GIOUS LIFE? Yes, 50; No, 6; in former years, 1. ¯ 3. WHAT IS THE NAME OF YOUR SCHOOL? It is called: ' (A) A Juniorate, 13. (B) A.School for Aspirants, 26. ¯.(C) A Preparatory School, 9. ¯ . . (D). Others? Scholasticate, 1. ¯ Candidature, 1. 190 HOW LONG 'INKS IT BEEN ORGANIZED? Average, 23 years. duly, 1954 THE APOSTOLIC SCHOOL. 4. DO YOU FAVOR SUCH A SCHOOL? YES, 48; NO, 2. IF "YES" GIVE THE MOST OUTSTANDING ADVANTAGES.The most com-mon answers were: (A) "Prepares for the religious life." (B) "Fosters vocations." (C) "Gives members to our community." (D) "Gives a more solid foundation for future religious life." (E) "Our best vocations come from the juniorate." (F) "Because of the great percentage of vocations resulting." (G) "It gives girls a chance to study their vocations in surroundings con-ducive to spiritual life." 5. APPROXIMATELY W~AT PERCENTAGE OF ASPIRANTS BECOME RELIGIOUS? Average, 54%: range, 7% to 100%. 6. WHAT EDUCATIONAL LEVEL DO YOU ADMIT GIRLS? (A) First year high school, 41. (B) Second year high school, 21. (C) Third year high school, 26. (D) Fourth year high school, 26. 7. WHAT IS THE LONGEST TIME THE ASPIRANT IS KEPT BEFORE ENTERING THE POSTULATE? (A) One year, 2. (B) Two years, 4. (C) Three years, 14. (D) Three and one-half years, 7. (E) Four years, 19. 8. WHAT COURSE OF STUDY DO THE ASPIRANTS PURSUE? (A) "The regular high school course," 18. (B) ".College preparatory," 5. (C) "Classical Course," 2. (D) "Academic," 19. (E) "Academic and Commerce," 1. 9. ARE THERE REQUIRED SPIRITUAL EXERCISES? IF SO, OF WHAT DO THEY CONSIST? (A) "Daily attendance at Mass," 50. (B) "Rosary in common," 21. (C) "Spiritual reading," 24. (D) "Morning and night prayers in common," 21. (E) "Meditation," 18. (F) "Vespers," 6. (G) "Attendance at Benediction," 8. 10. HOW MUCH TIME IS GIVEN TO RECREATION? Average number of hours, 2~. WHAT TYPE OF RECREATION IS FOLLOWED? (A) "Indoor and outdoor sports," 44. (B) "S~tuare dancing," 24. (C). "Singing," 24. (D) "Dramatics," I0. (E) "Needlework, card-playing, etc." SISTER M. ANGELICIA 12. 13. WHAT FEE ISCHARGED FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR? $133.93 is the average yearly fee. The fee for one year ranged from ten dollars to four hun-dred dollars. IS THE TUITION FEE REFUNDED IN CASE THE ASPIRANT EN-TERS THE COMMUNITY? YES, 1; NO, 49. ARE INCIDENTAL EXPENSES 'MAINTAINED BY THE ASPIRANT'S FAMILY?. YES, 44; NO, 6. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. DO THE ASPIRANTS SPEND VACATION PERIODS AT HOME? YES, 43; NO, 2: "PART TIME," 1. (A) Christmas, 41. (B) Easter, 23. (C) Thanksgiving, 21. (D) Summer, 33. ARE ASPIRANTS EXPECTED TO FOLLOW ANY SPECIAL, PRO-GRAM DURING VACATION, PERIODS? IF SO, WHAT? YES, 15; NO, 31. See question 9 for suggested program. ARE VISITS OF RELATIVES RESTRICTED? YES, 39: NO, 7; IF RESTRICTED, EXPLAIN. NO ws~tmg permitted during Lent and Ad-vent in majority of cases. The first Sunday of the month is suggested for visiting friends and relatives. DO YOU HAVE REGULATIONS FOR CORRESPONDENCE? YES, 43: NO, 5; NO ANSWER, 2. ESO THE ASPIRANTS WEAR UNIFORMS? YES, 49; NO. I. SACRA VIRGINITAS According to a news announcement in The Register, the encyclical Sacra Vir-ginitas, which Pope Plus XII issued on March 25, 1954, is now available in pam-phlet form, complete with footnotes, from the NCWC Publications O~ce, 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, Washington 5, D.C. OUR ADDRESSES We have three different addresses. It would help considerably if all who com-municate with us would note them: 1. Business communications, such as subscriptions, renewals, etc., should be sent to: REVIEW FOR REL!GIOUS, 606 Harrison St., Topeka, Kansas. 2. Boobs for review should be sent to: book Review Editor, REVIEW,FOR RE-LIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. All other editorial communications, such as ma.nuscripts, questions, letters for publication, etc., should be sent to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's College, St. Marys.' Kansas. 1'92 Apparitions and Revelations: Some Classit:ications Augustine G. Ellard, S.3. IN A PREVIOUS discussion some el~mentary suggestions were offered as to what attitudes one should take toward private ap-paritions and revelations, whether one's own or those reported of others (REVIEW FOR' RELIGIOUS° XIII [3anuary, 1954], 3-12). Now it is proposed to recall some of the descriptive classifications of such 6ccurrences that help one to think more intelligently and clearly'about them. ~[. DEFINITIONS AND DIVISIONS In an apparition a person or object is presented before, the con-sciousness of somebody at a time and place at which that presence is naturally inexplicable. For example, at the baptism of Christ a dove symbolizing the Spirit of God was seen descending from above and lighting upon Him (Matthew 3:16-17; 3ohn 1:32-34). On the same occasion a voice from heaven was heard proclaiming, "This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.''1 In a revelation in the proper sense God communicates some truth to one I~y way of speech. He does not manifest to one the objective truth itself, as He would in infused knowledge. He does express His ideas on it and thus let one know His mind about it.Of course it is also possible for the Blessed Virgin or an angel or a saint from h.eaven to speak to one. Evidently such an occurrence would be more than natural. Speech need not necessarily be in words; equivalent signs are con-sidered amply sufficient. Apparitions are in some way seen, revelations heard. Either may take place without the other. But they do come together so often that it is logical to treat them both at the same time. When, for instance, Bernadette Soubirous saw the beautiful maiden at Lourdes, she also heard the words, "I am the Immaculate Conception!" 1. Apparitions: Oculqr, In~aginati~e, Intellectual Probably the commonest classification of apparitions is that based upon the faculties involved. Some visions are external, sen, ]New Testament quotations in this article are taken from the translation made by Francis Aloysius Spencer, O.P. (New York: Macmillan, 1943). : 193 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Review for Religious ;sible, perceptible to the eyes, ocular. In this case an exterior objective reality of some sort outside of one is simply and literally seen. Thus, for example, Constantine is said to have beheld a cross in the sk~, with the inscriptiori, "In this sign shalt thou conquer!" When many people together perceive an apparition, the presumption is that it is external and really activates the eyes. Such were the appear-ances of Christ after the Resurrection; such also was the vision of the multitude at Fatima. Other apparitions take place in the interior senses and are termed imaginative. They are not imagina~ry, like hallucinations, but real and true in their own way, which, however may be misap-prehended. When one sees something, an image of it is produced not only upon the retina of the eyes but also in the interior faculty that psychologists call the imagination. God could easily bring about such a likeness without there being any corresponding exterior ob-ject present. Nor, if it should be of divine origin, would there be an hallucination and deception. It would convey to the mind in a merely internal way some truth intended by God. The vision granted to St. Peter and recounted in Acts 10:9-16 seems to be of this type. Peter "fell into an ecstasy; and he beheld heaven opened, and a kind of vessel descending, as it were, a great sheet ldt down by the four corners to the earth, in which were all kinds of quadrupeds and reptiles of the land, and birds of the sky." As is evident from the whole story, the apostle learned from this symbolic representa-tion in his imagination that he was to admit Gentiles as well as Jews into the Chur4b. In practice it may be very difficult to differentiate between ocular and imaginative visions, but if they are true and of divine origin it may be of only theoretical interest whether they be the one or the other. A third form of apparition is purely intellectua!~ Some person or. object is presented directly to the seer's intelligence, without the mediation of the eyes or the interior senses. This sort of vision is like that whereby an angel would see things, and therefore it is de: cidedly superhuman. It is also quite an indescribable experien~ce, except ~of course remotely and analogously. Of a vision of this kind St. Teresa wrote: "Jesus Christ seemed to be by my side continu-ally, and as this vision was not imaginary, I saw no form"--that is, it was not represented in her imagination--( Life, Ch. 27 : -Peers's translation, I, 170). 194 dulg, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS 2'. On "'Seeing" God . : ¯ ¯ The great mystics often speak of "seeing" God, as well as of having visions of lesser persons or objects. Hence an immense dif-ference must be noticed between visions that have as their object the Creator Himself, in whatever sense He is said to be seen, and created persons or things. There is all the distinction between having to do with the infinite God Himself or with some finite creature. Mystics "see" God in at least two senses. At times their infused contempla-tive knowledge of Him, which is usually obscure and general, be-comes relatively so clear and definite thht they feel it must be described as "vision" rather than, for instance, as contact. Of con-templative vision St. Thomas writes: "In contemplation God is seen through the medium which is the light of wisdom elevating the mind to perceive divine things, though not so that the divine essence itself be immediately seen" (De Veritate, XVIII, 4). In addition to this and as a particular favor in some cases contemplatives are granted special manifestations of God, or of Some of the divine at-tributes, or of the Blessed Trinity, and these they speak of as "visions of God." Thus Blessed Angela of Foligno, a great Italian mystic of the thirteenth century, describes such visions: "When the most high God cometh unto the rational soul, it is at times given her to see Him, and she seeth Him within her, without any bodily form,and she seeth Him more clearly'than one mortal man can see another; for the eyes of the soul behold¯ a fulness, spiritual not bod-ily, about which I can say nothing at all, for words and imagina-tion fail me. Moreover in this vision the s6ul is delighted with un-utterable'delight, and then she looketh at nothing else save that alone; for this it is that filleth the soul beyond all that can be reck-oned." (Visions and Instructions: ch. 52; apud Poulain, The Graces of Interior Pra~ler, p. 267.) - '. .: 3. Reoelatfons: Auu'cular, [magi'f~ative, Intellectaa[ '" ,o.Like apparitions, revelations or locutions fail into three grou.'ps; according to the faculty to wlqich they are ~mmediately addressed. Some of them include r&l external ~unds'and ate perceivM b) the ~ear. An e.xample from the New Testament is that' of,.tl-ie utterance described in. John 12:28-30. . In a-'talk ~to:~the'.p~ople_ of. Jerusalem shortly before .His: :death Jesus 'said'; ' "'Father;" save Me from. this hour!, But for thi~ very ptirpose.:.I ,came.io this : hour. Father, gl.orify Thy-name! There::came:.theret~bre.a::.Voic'e,:~out of-'heaven., !k,have 'both glorified it,. and. wil.! glorif'.y;:it~:!again.' Thecrowd,, ac~ 195 Review [or Religious cordingly, who stood by and heard it, said that it had thundered. Others said, 'An angel has spoken to Him.' Jesus addressed them and said, 'This voice has not come for My sake, but for yours.' " Other revelations are directed straight to the interior senses and are termed imaginative. In normal communic~ations between "human persons there is a double threefold process. In the speaker there is first of all thought, then formulation of it in words in the phantasy or imagination, and lastly utterance of it with the vocal orgahs. In the hearer the correspohding steps occur in the reverse order: audi-tory perception, representation in the" phantasy, and finally under-standing in the mind. When G6d, or an angel, communicates His ideas, He can skip the first act in the bearer's process and address Him~lf directly to the imagination. This is very~ probably what happened to St. Joseph when an angel of the Lord appeared to him "in a dream-vision, saying, 'Arise and take the Child and His mother, and fly to Egypt, and remain there until I tell thee; for Herod is about to hunt for the Child to destroy Him' " (Matthew 2:13). A spirit, whether divine or angelic, can also impart ideasI directly to one's intelligent:e, and thus we have purely intellectual lodutions and auditions. Lucie Chlistine (a distinguished French mystic, a woman of social position and the mother of several children: whose personal notes, written only for her director, were published under this pseudonym after her'death in 1908), says of a certain intellec-tual communication of this nature that she received: "Whilst at prayer this kind God deigned to fi!l my soul with His light and said to me interiorly: 'I myself am the glory.' . . ; The divine words. ,carry with them an ineffable unction by which the soul recognizes in some manner the voice of God. Moreover, they impress them-. selves forcibly upon the soul and operate what they utter. I had ob-served this before I read about it. These interior accents cannot bear any comparison to those words which sometimes are formed ~y the imagination." (Spiritual Journal of Lucie Christine, pp. 24-25.) 4. Special Terminology 9f St. dohn of the Cross St. John of the Cross has a classification of supernatural "lwords" and a peculiar terminology, for them that are original. Since his divisions and his ways of naming them are very often re-fer~ ed to, one .who wishes to be well-informed in the field should know them. With respect to "supernatural locutions, which are apt to come to the spirits of spiritual persons without the intervention" 196 duly, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS of any b~dily sense," he writes: "These, although they are of many kinds, may,. I believe, all be reduced to three, namely, successive, for-mal, and substantial" (Ascent of Mr. Carmel, II, 18; Peers's trans-lation, I, 208): "Successive words" are not really language coming from another person, as St. ,John himself explains in what immedi-atel~ follows; they are nothing more than words formed by certain people in the depths of their own personality while in a state of pro-found recollection. In.such utterances one is rather speaking to one-self. "Formal words" do come from somebody el'se, and outside of periods of recollection as well as within them. St. John adduces the example of the archangel Gabriel who spoke to the prophet Daniel about the coming of the Messiah. "O Daniel, [ am now come forth to teach thee, and that thou mightest undersand . Seventy weeks are shortened upon thy people, and upon thy holy city, that trans-gression may be finished, and sin have an end . and everlasting justice may be brought; and vision and prophecy may be fulfilled; and the saint of saints may be anointed . " (Daniel, 9:20-27.) "Substantial words" are those that promptly and vigorously effect jtist what they express; thus, for instance, if one were overwhelmed with fear and God should say, "Fear thou not!" one "would at once be con.scious of great fortitude and tranquillity" (Op. cir., I, 219) . 5. Reoelations: Public and Pr~'oate Of all the distinctions to be made between revelations the most important by all means i~ that beween public and private revela-tions. Public revelation is that which was made long ago, meant 'for mankind generally, and entrtisted to the Church.It is a primary purpose of the Church to guard, interpret, and proclaim to all the truths of this revelation. It originally came into the world from God through the prophets and especially through Christ and the Apostl'es. All other revelations are termed private., even though in par-ticular respects they may take on a very popular character. " They are indeed messages from God, or at least from some sacred person. They hre not addressed directly to the Church as such, and they never :become a part of the deposit of faith. One could not accept them ~ith "divine and Catholic faith." Certain apparitions and revelations of the Blessed Virgin cutting in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries have attained con- ~iderable importance in the 'life of the Church. The use of. the 197 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Reoiew for Religious Miraculous Medal goes" b~ack,: tb.'i'fii~i~earahces.~of' the Mother° of' G'6d . to-SiSt&~Catherine Labour& of the Daughters of Charity, in the year 1830 at ¯Paris. Everybody knows about Lourdes, and now also Fatima. Another case that became famous in France, but is less well known generally, is that of La Salette. Near La Salette, in eastern France, in the year 1846, two children, Melanie Calvat, a girl of fifteen, and Maximin Giraud, a boy of eleven, affirmed that they had seen "a beautiful lady" while engaged in watching some cows near a stream. They received a message from her to be con-veyed to all the lady's people. It inculcated the necessity of doing penance and of leading a good Christian life. Also each of the chil-dren was entrusted with a special secret. Eventually these secrets were transmitted to Pope Pius IX. Over this vision there raged for a considerable time a great controversy. Finally, after careful in-vestigation, it was officially approved in 1851 by the Bishop of the Diocese of Grenoble. On .the occasion of the centennial celebration it received a certain papal confirmation in a letter sent by Pope Pius XII to the Superior General of the Institute of the Missionaries of La Salette. II. FATHER STAEHLIN'S OBSERVATIONS Not lohg ago the Spanish Jesuit, Father Carlos Maria Staehlin, published in Razon y Fe (1949, vol. 139, pp. 443-464; 546-562: vol. 140, pp. 71-98) the results of an elaborate study of apparitions and revelations as they have taken place in the history of the Church during the last 150 years. 1. The Two Currents First of all, Father Staehlin points out that in this record two currents of apparitions and revelations are to be distinguished: the m~jsticaland the non-ro~lsticali The first current is observ~ible in men and women who were favored with the central phenom~hon of mysticism, that is, infused contemplation. Typically this line is exemplified in the saints, or at least in very hMy. persons of mature .age. In these people, there-fore, were to be found both a sup.erior form of mental prayer and a high degree of virtue. At times, and in some cases only, to increase their ¯intimacy with God they were .granted apparitions of various sacred persons or things. Re'velations given in connection with such apparitions are of course private, and .may also be:.,calied particular. In'th~ lives:of: the saints there occurs also at/other kind of revelation that may be termed social. It is meant mor~ for the. good of nu- 1'98 du1~,1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS merous other persons than for the advantage of the individual re-cipient. The .communications concerning the Sacred Heart made to St. Margaret Mary and those of the Blessed Virgin at Lourdes ex-emplify this social type of private revelation. 2. Apparitions to non-M~tstics The second general current comprises those cases in which the persons favored with visions are nbt mystics. Oftentimes they are children. These visions reported by non-mystics seem to be sea- ;onal, tending to occu'r in the spring and summer months, between March and October. The recipients are usually uneducated'persons; nearly always wbmen or children, and girls-~rathe~'than 'boys.When a man sees a vision he is .apt to-be in the "company of a woman;-ahd kbe sees more than he does. If the,seers be~children, one or-mbre of them often enough'has a ~ather who drinks heavily. There seems to be a certain" tendency for these apparitions to follow the la~sical type of Saint Bernadette-or the more recent pattern set by the chil-dren at Fatima. In a few cases the effect upon the religious life of the community or even of the Church has been very great: but as a rule, no matter how great the excitement at first may be, the total result is not impressive. Manifestations in which Christ appears are more often within doors, whereas those of the Blessed Virgin are more frequently ob-served in the open air. Since the time when devotion to the Sacred Heart became widespread apparitions in which Our Lord figures tend to focus upon His heart. Strangely enough, when the place is in the vicinity of the Blessed Sacrament there is usually no connec-tion between it and the apparition. The appearances of the Blessed Virgin taking place outdoors do not generally present themselves abruptly: they are introduced by some sound or sight that does not naturally fit in with the circ.umstances, but attracts attention and prepares for what is to come. ~° 3. Zones and Periods "" Looking over lists of apparitions that have been reported one can easily discern certain zones, or parts of the world, and periods of time, in which they are especially numerous. Staehlin refers to one zone, without however naming it, °embracing some twenty villages, in which there was, as it were, an epidemic outbreak of visions. In Belgium in the single year 1933 there was a comparatively large number of them; Staehlin lists the places and dates for eighteen, and says that the enumeration is far from complete. 199 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Reoieto for Religiou.s 4. Constellations It is also noticeable that apparitions tend to occur in constella-tions, that is, in groups with a certain unity of place, time, and sub-ject- matter. Numerous minor occurrences of this kind cluster around one that is of major importance and renown. Thus a full critical account of the origins of Lourdes would chronicle many visionaries and visions besides St. Bernadette and her experiences. She is the one whose claims have been approved, both by the Church officially and by the common assent of the faithful, and she is the only one who was canonized for her virtues. But there were other persons who reported having seen apparitions at about the same time and place. For the names of some of those who Said that they had had such visions and the places and times at which they occurred, see Staehlin, volume 139, pp. 555-56. It is said that at Fatima also there were other apparitions beside~ those to the three little shep-herds. 5. Multiplication Multiplication is another mark that Staehlin observes in his study of apparitions. Once a particular vision is recorded in the literature it is apt to be repeated. The following is an example. In Agreda, Spain, in the seventeenth century there was a Franciscan ab-bess named Maria de Jesus. Continuing the work begun by the famed visionary St. Bridget of Sweden, namely, completing the Gospel accounts from private revelations, Maria wrote the celebrated and highly controversial book called The Mystical City of God. It is a history of the life of the Blessed Virgin. .Because of its ques-tionable character the process for her beatification which had been begun was discontinued. Mother Maria recounts in great detail this incident from the passion. When Jesus had been fastened to the cross and the soldiers wished to clinch the nails, they were about to turn Him and the cross over, thus leaving Him with His face on the ground. His mother, unable to bear the thought of that additional cruelty and indignity, most earnestly besought the Eternal Father not to permit it. Accordingly He sent angels at once who supported the overturned Jesus and cross in the air above the rocky ground while the executioners hammered back the nails (Part II, Bk VI, .Chapter XXII, n. 1386). In the next century, after Mother Maria's work had become widely diffused among the. devout nuns in the convents of Spain, Sister Joan of the I.nca.~.n.~tion, of .,t.he Discalced Augustinians in 2OO July/, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS Murcia, had a strikingly similar vision, reported in very much the ~ame way. In our century Sister 3osefa Menendez, of the Spanish Religious of the Sacred Heart, whose book Christ's Appeal for Love i~ making her increasingly well-known just at present, also saw in a vision and reports exactly the same incident. (For the original wording in all three cases, see Razon y Fe, 1949, vol. 139, pp. 559- 560). - 6. Four Patterns It is not difficult to observe that even those apparitions which seem original or at leas.t have no particular connection in time or place tend to follow certain definite patterns. Of these Father Staeh-lin distinguishes four: namely the reformatory type, the pastoral, the innovating, and lastly one representing the passion of Christ. The first two, the reformatory and the pastoral, inasmuch as they involve prophecies regarding the future, may be termed apocalyptic. The third and fourth, introducing something new or somehow reproducing the Passion, are of a .more devout form. Apparitions falling into the reformatory pattern may be de-signed to change either religious or political conditions. In times of stress and strain in Church or state there is wont to be an excess of them. A typical apparition seeking reform in religious matters would first point out the tragedies and calamities that afflict the Church. Then the cause would be indicated, for example, the faults of the clergy and religious men and women. An exhortation would follow urging them to do. perian~e and again take up the fervent pursuit ~of virtue. Finally the happy results would be depicted in glowing colors. ~The Church and civil society are al.ways laboring under great evils or dangers of them; some reformatory movements are always in progress; some of .the troubles disappear in time; and in a few respects at least there is positive change for the better. If the prediction is not completely verified, one can invariably say either that not enough effort toward penance and amendment was made or that the rest of the prophecy is still to be fulfilled. The pasoral pattern of apparitions is the one with which we are all most familiar. Popular devout literature and th~ conversations of pious people thrive on it. Such appearances, which are said to be very numerous, tend to conform to this broad scheme: some chil-dren, playing outdoors, unexpectedly notice a sight or sound that att~rac.ts or directs their attention. Abov.e the branches of a tree or in a.~;clearj,g they notice a white feminine figure, they are addressed by 20,1: AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD . Reoiew for Religious it, am:l finallyo.tbey are invited to return to' the site on subsequent days. Soone~ or later the figure makes itself.known as the Blessed Virgin, and eventually she manifests some secret or other to the young seers. Sheoften requests that a shrine be erected there and promises a miracle to give divine assurance for everything. There is a message that is to be made public (an example, therefore, of a revelation that is private, but with a social purpose): the good should do penance and pray more for mankind. At last somethi.ng takes place which is in.terpr~ted as the miracle. Evidently the ap-paritions at Lourdes. and Fatima fire outstan, ding examples and models of this pattern. These two are also among the very, very few that have been approved and that have achieved importance. Scores, if not hundreds, of others, have created only a local or a passing stir among the people. _New devotions' are usually the object of the next, the inno-vating, type of visions. In her attitude toward these the Church is likely to be much more severe and critical, and the reason is that novel forms of religious practice very often imply notions that are wrong or dangerou.s°to the faith. In 1937 a decree against certain n6velties was issued b~" the Holy Office. "Everybody knows that such new forms of Worship and devotion, sometimes ridiculous, very often a useless imitation of similar devotions already legiti-mately established, or even a corruption of them, are. multiplled from day to day and widely propagated among the faithful in sev-eral places, especially in these latter times, to the great surprise and bitter reproach of non-Catholics" (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, XXIX, 305). It is easy for certain devout souls to feel inspired to insti-tute, say, a new scapular or a nea, v ~et of Fridays or Saturdays in honor of the~'r favorite celestial"patron. Apparitions of the fourth pattern represent the passion and crucifixion of Christ. Some of the seers who witness them are stig-matics. Anyone somewhat conversant with devotional literature will know of examples. A notable recent case is that of St. Gemma Galgani (1878;1903). So much for the observations of Father Staehlin. III. NEGATIVE TYPES 1. Diabolical Apparitions Besides apparitions or revelations from the mansions of heaven, there are of course others that come from the dungeons of the nether regions. In gent~ine cases these are really and truly supernatural in, 202 July, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS the sense of being beyond the possibilities of visible nature. The lives of the saints contain many instances, and therefore the sanctity of the human person concerned is no proof that his or her super-normal experiences are all good. Of these appearances some are at once and clearly diabolical; they are generally of a terrifying naturd. Others seem at first to be holy and conducive to piety, but they are always deceptive, and sooner or later manifest indications of the evil tendencies that they subserve. At'a certain period in his life and at hours when he should have been studying, St. Ignatius used to ex-perience visions that seemed to make for devotion and prayer,/but eventually he noticed that it was always at the wrong time and place, and he concluded that what he was seeing was a temptation rather than a grace, and really something designed to distract him from God's work. Besides_preternatural appearances that emanate from the evil spirits there are others also which are in reality natural, but mistakenly attributed to evil spirits. 2. Hallucinations and Illusions A distinction relevant to apparitions and revelations that is hu-miliating and unpleasant for subjects, but nevertheless of prime practical importance for their directors and everybody else who has anything to do with them, is that between authentic and apparent manifestations of the supernatural, or, in other words, between the really miraculous and hallucinations or illusions. In hallucinatio.ns one judges that he sees or hears something that is simply non-existent; there is not even a good foundation for the mistaken per-ception. Illusions are false interpretations of something that is true and objective; for example, a man suffering from delirium tremens sees a stick and takes it to be a snake. Th~se aberrations .of tile mind can in some cases have a very close resemblance to truthful judg-ments. A perfectly balanced person may be deceived in a particular case, and the most acute discerner of spirits may find it exceedingly difficult to make the appropriate distinctions with assurance. Hence the great necessity of exercising extreme precaution in pronouncing upon any occurrence that has the semblance of the supernatura~l. Not long ago a certain French doctor and psychologist wrote a study of "interior words." It was based par.ticularly upon. a num-ber of books published in recent years 'arid purporting to give pri-vate divine revelations or locutions. Of his whole investigation he gives the general conclusion as follows: "These reflections, suth as they are, allow us to see in many cases of 'interior words' a natural 2O3 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Review [or Religious psychological mechanism, independent (inasmuch as it is a process) of'the religious character of their content: a mechanism of projec-tion, of compensation, of mental dialogue expressed in language. The classical criteria~ conformity to the teaching of the Church, sanctity of life, quality of charity, submission to the magisterium of the Church, are evidently indispensable. It seems to me that they are not sufficient. Is it not proper to consider as well whether a natural ex'planation cannot account for them, in whole or in i0art?" (Vie Spirituelle, Supplement, May 1953, 165-175; Dr. Suzy Rousset, " 'Paroles interieures'--remarques'psychologiques.P"e)r-haps, therefore, modern psychologists and psychiatrists capnoint out the precise mechanisms and processes which explain the fact, long ago noticed by SL. 3ohn of the Cross, that a devout person may seem. to hear God speaking to him interiorly, whereas in reality the person is talking to himself through his subconsciousness. The distinguished contemporary Carmelite authority in "spir-itual theology,"' Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, has made a special study of visions and revelations, and published the results in a work devoted exclusively to that subject, Visions and Revelations in the Spiritual Life (1950). Toward the end of this work he em-phasizes the point that the old rules for the discernment of spirits do indeed indicate whether a movement of soul or what .seems to be an interior locution is good or bad and whether it is ultimately from the divine spirit or the diabolical spirit, but they do not enable one to judge that, if it be from God, it proceeds from Him preter-naturally rather than naturally. What appears in consciousness as a divine locution may be from God and may be a great grace, but, from these rules alone, we are n6t justified in concluding that it comes from Him in the special way characteristic of revelations in the proper sense. "In the present state of the psychological sciences, in view of data which may be reasonably expected, it must be main-tained that the mechanism of the interior voice may sometimes be natural. Unless we succeed in disproving this hypothesis, we can-not cor~clude that God has certainly intervened" (p. 119). A devout soul can write a whole book, all of it most excellent spiritual doc-trine and seemingly dictated to the writer by God h'imself. It can be most conducive to one's advance in sanctity, or to that of others. Nevertheless the whole product may be really due tO the processes of nature and grace, and may not require any miraculous intervention from God. ,204 duly, 1954 BEATIFICATIONS, 1951 -I 952 3. Fraudulent Reports In addition to genuine apparitions there are some that are simply fraudulent. A person may gain notice and admiration and perhaps even many other advantages by acquiring the reputation of being in direct and supernatural communication with the powers of heaven. Moreover prestige and profit may accrue to places where appari-tions have been reported, and men seeing the commercial possibili-ties may, in good or bad faith, help promote the popular interest and excitement. A subsequent paper will consider certain practical problems that arise when one has become, or at least seems to have become, the re-cipient of apparitions and revelations, and also when one reads about those that are said to have been granted to other persons¯ E eatit:icatlons, 1951-1952 Pope Pi~s X, who was solemnly canonized, May 29. 1954, was born in 1835, died in 1914. He was the first Pope since St. Pius V (died, 1572: beatified, 1671: canonized, 1710) to be raised to the honors of the altar. An account of the pontificate of Pius X, as well as a table of important dates, was published in the May, 1954, number of the REVIEW (pp. 114-24). This account, written by the Archbishop of Madurai, was first published shortly after the beatifi-cation of Pius X, which took place on June 3, 1951. On the occa-sion of the beatification, Pope Pius XII said of his blessed predeces-sor .' "Through his person and through his work God wished to pre-pare His Church for the new and arduous tasks that awaited bet in the troublous future; to prepare in time a Church at one in doctrine, firm in discipline, et~icient in her pastors; a generous laity, a people well instructed: a youth sar~ctified from its first years; a Christian conscience alert to the proble, ms of social life. "If today the Church ofI God, so far from retreating before the forces that would 'destroy all spiritual values, suffers and fights, and through dlvlne help advances and redeems, it is due in great part to the far-seeing action and the holiness of Plus X. Today it has be-come clear thSt his whole pontificate was directed according to a divine plan of love and redemption, to prepare souls for the very 205 BEATIFICATIONS, 1951 - 1.952 struggles we are facing, and to ensure victory for us and for the fu-ture." The foregoing translation is taken from The Clerg~t Monthlt.t, XVI (duly, 1952), 227. We are indebted to the same publication for the following accounts of others who were beatified in 1951; also of those beatified in 1952. Blessed Atberic Cresc[telli: born, 1863: died, 1900; beatified, Feb. 18, 1951. Of the Foreign Missions of Milan. He was cruelly martyred during the Boxer rising after twelve years of self-sacrificing work in the China mission. In his case, as in other cases, the Holy Father remarked, "Martyrdom is but the cr6wning of an entire life of daily heroism and of continual compliance with the will of God." Blessed Francis Anton{ Fasani: born, 1681; died, 1742; beati-fied, April 15, 1951. A Franciscan Conventual priest. He spent thirty-five years in his native town of Lucera, 'teaching the young friars and then governing the convent and the province of his order, combining with these offices an intense apostolic and charitable ac-tivity. He liked to recall his humble origin, and among the poor who crowded the door of the convent for their daily bowl of soup, with filial respect and love he acknowledged his mother, "the poor Isabella." Blessed Joseph Diaz Sanjurjo, O.P., and tuaent~l-four coropan-ions. Beatified, April 29, 1951. In Tonkin, during the bloody persecution of 1856-1862 under Tu-Duc, thousands of Christians were cruelly tortured and put to death. One group of four was beati-fied by Pius X on April 15, 1906. The cause of another 1,288 was introduced in 1917; and from among these a first group of 25 has now been beatified: 2 bishops (Spanish Dominicans), 4 native priests (2 Dominicans and 2 Tertiaries of St. Dominic), and .19 Christians of every class of society. Blessed Placide Viel: born, 1815; died, 1877; beatified, May 6, 1951. One is deeply struck, said the Holy Father on the occasion of her beatification, by "the contrast between the temperament, the character, the antecedents of this little peasant girl--shy, awkward, without instruction, without the least experience of life in the world --and her career of exceptional, not to say unique, activity." Out of seemingly unpromising material God's grace fashioned an out-standing personality. Placide Viel was the daughter of a Norman farmer. When eighteen, she joined the young and struggling Congregation of the (Contin.ued on Page 214) 206 Spirit:ual Opia!:es Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. TWO of the most fundament.al and most consol!ng truths of the spiritual life are that the will of God is man s peace and that the providence of God is most loving. Practical acceptance and living out of these truths has brought and will bring many to holi-ness. There can be no sanctity where a person has no "devotion" to the will of God and little trust in divine providence. While all this is true, there is another side to the question, as there is to mbst questions. And this "other side of the question" has some impor-tant relevance to both the private and social lives of religious. Wrong understanding of these great truths can bring about great personal and great public harm. The pagan Lucretius in that terrible line, "so great a mass of evils has religion been able to foist upon ~nan-kind," fixed in a few words the awful effect of religion gone bad. Perhaps it would be well to listen to a pagan, ancient or modern, present his picture of a Christian and the will of God. -Thus then would our pagan speak: "If Christians live according to the faith that is in them, for them the will of God is the end of life. In all things great and small a Christian must love and do God's will and bear patiently whatever God allows to come into his life. If he is sick, that is God's will and he must bear sickness patiently and even gladly if possible. If there is a drought and the crops fail, that too is God's will and a true Christian must bear it without complaint. If in God's providence a man has been born into a poor family, that is for his best and he should worship the strange ways of divine provi-dence. If a working man cannot find employment, that is God's will and he must submit humbly--remembering that God cares for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. If taxes are high and there is much corruption in government and unequal distribution of wealth, God has permitted these things, and His will must be rev-erenced. If the children are starving and the wife is sick and there is no opportunity for work, God has seen fit to allow that and man must meekly accept His will." Truly religion thus pictured is the opium of the people. Man~s urge for ~elf-preservation, for the advancement of his family, for his well-being in this life is stifled. He is made the pawn of priests, 207 JOSEPH [9. FISHER Review for Religious he is made a slave of inaction. Religion;has bound him hand and foot and made him a completely useless citizen of the state. We may now imagine an objector adapting the above picture to fit a religio,us more directly. To a religious God's will is especially dear. It should be his meat and drink. Only by complete aban-donment to the divine will can he lead his life as he should and reach' sanctity. Heshould hav~ ~o desire of his own but should will only what God wills. When he has come to such conformity, then only will he have true peace. So when sickness comes, em-brace it patiently, eagerly. It is a dear possession. Hold on to it as to a loving gift from God. Become a victim of the divine good pleasure. When failure comes, do not run from it; it is God's will and hence a blessing. When you are misunderstood, called to task unjustly, do not complain; this is God's will. Adhere to it. No matter what comes into your life, ~t is God's will. Be satisfied with it and it will sanctify you. The consequence of carrying out the foregoing "ideal" to its logical conclusion would be this: a sick religious holds on to his sickness as the will of God and does not try to rid himself of it; a struggling religious sees impending fdilure coming and welcomes it as God's will; a sincere religious finds himself the subject of petty persecution and, convinced it is God's will that he bear it, does so, when it is driving him to distraction. Even if the ordinary Catholic and ordinary religious do not see the speculative answer to the difficulty just proposed, in practice they solve it for the most part themselves. But it would be well if they understood the theory too. Certainly it is God's will that a Christia~i accept with patient resignation his lot as a poor man, the sickness of his children and wife, the lack of employment and such-like hardship. That is one thing. But it is quite another to give the impression that he may not and even ought not do something about righting the situation. To speak as if the .will of God ends with patience and resignation under adverse circumstances is to make something of a caricature of the divine will. It may be presumed that God wants something done about an unjust condition. If unscrupulous men have by their c~imes forced a man into an unjust condition, far fr(~m its being true that he ought to be content to re-main in such a condition, the man may be bound in conscience to do what he can to right the wrong. The truth then is this: in such cases a man has to accept with patience and resignation the existing condition as at least permitted by God, but he has to work with en- 208 Julq, 1954 SPIRITUAL OPIATES ergy to bring about the just order which God primarily wills. So the mark of the true Christian is not to accept willy-nilly whatever untoward event the providence of God allows to befall him, and to rest there; but rather, even while conformed to the divine will, calmly to set about bettering the situation when that can be done. There is plenty of room for the practical application of this prin-ciple in our modern world, where there are many cases of unjust and inhuman living conditions that call for reform. As for the religi6us, certainly he ought to hold the will of God dear. And certainly he ought to become as conformed as possible to the Will of God. But he ought to know what is and what is not the will of God. God's will is not necessarily that he remain sick if he becomes sick. When he is sick, of course he ought to see in this illness God's will and endure it patiently, but he also ought to realize that it may be God's will that he use some means to insure recovery. If he has a rule--as most religious have--to the effect that he should take proper care of his health, then this would indi-cate God's will in the matter. And certainly superiors consider it understood that their subjects do what they reasonably can to pre-serve their b~alth and to retrieve it as far as possible when it is lost. This again is an expression of God's will. The same principle holds in the case of failure and blame. A good religious accepts in a spirit of resignation such trials permitted by God but it is often clear that the same divin~ will wants the re-ligious to do something about rising from the failure or removing the blame. One's vocational-ideal is the surest means of diagnosing, so to speak, the divine will in any particular matter. What my vocation demands of me, that for me is clearly God's will. It hardly has to be pointed out that the conception of divine providence implied in the objection given above is faulty. There are plenty of people who think of the providence of God as a guarantee of an easy way through life here on earth. One will be able to live, 'they dream, as the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. God's providence will ward off financial difficulties, sickness, death of the young--all th~ hard things of life that test a man's belief and hope in God. To see their mistake, these people need only to consider. God's plan for human life, rather than their own imaginings as to what it is to be. A frequently repeated illustration will make the point clear. A provident father is not one who gives his child all he asks or all the child thinks is for his good. Children, even older children, frequently have a very poor idea about what serves' their 2O9 aosi~p~t p. Fis~ true good. A young child might want to play with a sharp, shiny knife, but no one would consider the father good who gave in to the child, no matter what kind of squall was raised. Children used to dislike school. Even though they raised a fuss and said their parents and teachers were cruel, a good father, foreseeing their needs be~ter than they, would insist that they continue their schooling. Tb'e father knows the end in mind and he knows the means to the end. And frequently the best means are the most repellent to the young. In this, grown men and women are often like children. God their Father knows better than they the end of human life and the best means to get there. Frequently these means look very harsh to God's children, but our good Father does not let this deter Him from doing what is really best for His sons and daughters. God wants our true good more than we do ourselves and He knows what it is and how to obtain it. Trust in His directing and loving providence is the only proper attitude on our part. God's providence over men is, therefore, not apampering provi-dence. Rather it is strong and it demands strength. We are taught this in the life of Our Lord when He was tempted by the devil, first to a distrust of divine providence--"command that these stones be made bread": and then to a rash and presumptuous demand 'on providence--"throw thyself down." Our Lord's answer to Satan teaches us the proper balance in,our attitude toward divine provi-dence: "Not by bread alone does man live"--man's end is not temporal but eternal: God provides what eventually best leads to our eternal happiness. Hence we must trust that all things work unto good for those who love God. "Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God"--we should not presume on divine providence according to our own ideas of what is good for us. Such presumption would surely lead to disappointm.ent and distrust and at first to lack of private enterprise and then to trust of self alone. Only, therefore, when the Catholic doctrine on the will of God and providence is misunderstood and exaggerated does it make spir-itual opiates of these truths. Religious obviously in their own lives and in their dealings with externs should be mindful of these very consoling doctrines, but mindful in such a way that they do not give a basis to critics for the charge that the doctrines stifle the true life of man. Rather they should evidence by their lives that these great truths are springs of life more abundant. 210 To All t:he Saint:s in No-Man's Land George Byrne, S.J. W~E CANNOT imagine a bishop in our days addressing a letter to "All the saints that are in Chicago"! St. Paul would" have done it; indeed, be might more reasonably have ex-pected to find them in Chicago than in pagan Rome "delivered up to shameful affections." Yet to us the word "saints" suggests a no-man's land, reached by hardy explorers and possessing a climate of rarefied atmosphere, which only men of superhuman constitution can breathe. Doesn't the Church reserve the title for her heroes and look for miracles to confirm her choice? There must be a misunderstanding somewhere. Either St. Paul was using a little flattery, like the politician appealing to the "keen intelligence" of a stupid crowd, or we have failed to grasp his meaning. We may at once admit our failure: flattery was not a Pauline weapon. He knew what man .was: but he had a clear vision of what man should, and could, be: "To all that are at Rome ¯ . . called to be saints." On the one hand St. Paul might quarrel with our title, in "No- Man's Land," insisting that it should be "Every-Man's Land"; on the other hand, he could accept it, as true to his own words to the Ephesians: "He chose us in him before the foundation of the world that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight in charity." The choice was made in "No-Man's Land." It was made in God's kingdom: "In the Father's house of many mansions"; in the climate of "pure love," an atmosphere truly so devoid of all breath of dis-ordered self-love that no man could live there if not strengthened by a power more than human: "for man shall not see Me [God] and live." Plato and Lo~e Not one of us would say to a friend, "You are unlovable, as you are incapable of love." Does any young couple, pledging a love "till death do us part," think for a moment that they do not know what it is to love? Yet the divorce courts are a sad witness to their ignorance. Love is a beautiful thing, a strong thing. It is not pas-sion, a fitful outburst to grasp for self the pleasure of a passing urge. ,211 GEORGE BYRNE Reoieto t~or Religious "Love is as strong ag dearth . . . many waters cannot quench love." In spite of his cold intellectual outlook, Plato did not fail to see the elevating power of love, even amongst his crude pagan gods. In his Symposium (197) he, wrote: "He whom love touches walks not in darkness . . . Love set in order the empire of the gods--the love of beauty, as is evident, for with deformity Love has no concern. In days of old, as I said, dreadful, deeds were done among the gods, for they were ruled b.y Necessity, but now since the birth of Love, and from Love of the beautiful, has sprung every good in heaven and earth. Therefore, Phaedrus, I say of Love that He is the fairest and best in himself, and the cause of what is fairest and best in all othe~ things . . . He is our lord, who sends cou, rtesy and sends away discourtesy, who gives kindness ever and never gives unkindness; the friend of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods; desired by those who have no part in him; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire, soft-ness, grace, regardful of the good, regardless of the evil . . . glory of god and men, leader best and brightest, in whose footsteps let every man follow, sweetly singing in his honour and joining in that sweet strain with which Love charms the souls of gods and men." As we .read the words of the tSagan philosopher, we approve. We can even fancy that a fold of Love's mantle rests on us. Even "those who have no part in him," as Plato said, desire him. No one is willing to admit that Love has no message for him, or that Love's message is Utopian! Sainthood and Love Why, then. is the call to "Sainthood" treated.as if it were a call to Starland, where ordinary mortals cannot dwell? It is so treated: we have only to suggest that Tdm or Harry, down the street, are, "holy," to draw a smile, in which Tom and Harrywould be the first' sharers. Yet they would be the first to resent being called un- Christian, or being taxed with lovelessness. They, and those who, with them, call themselves "ordinary Christians" forget that' a call to."ordinary" Christian life is not the Master's call. "Be ye perfect,~ as your heavenly Father is perfect," is addressed to all. The re-ligious life is called a "state of perfection" because, on the negative side, many obstacles found in the world are removed; and, above all, on the positive side, every means is at our disposal "to develop the supernatural life in our souls. The great variety of religious congregations in the Church is determined by the nature of the 212 dul~t, 1954 To SAINTS IN NO-MAN'S LAND work to be accomplished for the Kingdom of God and the different talents of the workers. But all religious.congregations pu~ love, true charity, in the foreground. In the words of St. Ignatius, "the interior law of charity and love" must be the animating principle of every religious constitution. Without the inner working of the Holy Spirit of Love, - external rules couldlead only to formalism. In God's creative plan, Iove and sainthood are identified. Let us repeat St. Paul's text: "He chose us in him [i.e., in Christ] before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight in charity.". St. John puts it more emphatically: "Every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not, knoweth not God: for God is charity." "'Love IS His Meaning" In one of the mo~t beautiful books written, Revelations of Divine Love, Juliana of Norwich, tells us that the afiswer to her query of the meaning of all was: "Wouldst thou witten the Lord's meaning in this thing? Wit it well: Love was his meaning. Who shewed it to thee? Love. What shewed He thee? Love. Where-fore shewed it He? For Love. What shewed He thee? Love. Wherefore shewed it He? For Love. : . .And I saw full surely in this and in all, that ere God mhde us He loved us.~ .In this love our' life is everlasting. In our making we had a beginning; but the love wherein He made us was in Him from without beginning: in which love we have our beginning." Our earliest catechism lesson taught us that we are made to the "image of God." Perhaps the lessons passed all too quickly to "duty" as the rule of life. There were the commandments--only ten; but, as we turned the pages, the details grew; and our young lives seemed hemmed in by a solid hedge of "don'ts." A doctor of the law captiously .asked Christ: "Which is the great command-ment?" He little expected the answer: there is really only one-- Love, reaching to heaven, and pouring itself out on earth. The greatness of man is being an image of God; the image of God is in his soul. In what ultimately is greatness of soul found? St. Jerome aptly drew the distinction between philosophy and re-ligion. "Plato," he said, "located the soul of man in the head; Christ located it in the heart." In a word w~e have the difference between the "clever" man and the "saint." Few can be outstanding as philosophers; there is no limit'to growth in love. The.Immacu-late Mother mounted the hill of Calvary with Mary Magdalen; the_ 213 ' BEATIFICATIONS, 19 5 1 - 1 9 5 2 Review/:or Religious peniten't thief confessed, with St. John, that God is Love. At first sight it might seem that the type of sanctity is different in different religious institutes: for example, that a Carmelite recluse has little in common with a nursing, or teaching, sister. This view is clea~ly superficial. Their duties are different, but for all, love is the soul of their sanctity; and they may happily kneel side by side at the altar rail to receive into their hearts the Heart of Love. To be truly religious and not to love is unthinkable. BEATIFICATIONS, 19S1-1952 (Continued from Page 206) Sisters of the Christian Schools and was trained by the holy foun-dress, St. Marie Madeleine Postel (canonized in 1925). With prophetic insight the foundress recognized the latent gifts of the young religious and made her the assistant general at. the age of twenty-five. Six years later, when the foundress died (1846), Placide was elected to succeed her. For thirty years she governed this institute with remarkable efficiency--a most able organizer, a gifted educationist, a religious superior of fine tact and heroic pa-tience and humility. Blessed Julian Maunoir, S.d.: born, 1606 ; died 1683 ; beatified, May 20, 1951. "The Apostle of Brittany." During forty-two years he preached popular missions t~hroughout Brittany, at that time spiritually very neglected, and trained numerous priests for the same work. His incredible labors resulted in a deep religious trans-formation of that country. His life and work, said Pope Pius XII, are a lesson of optimism. His remarkable missionary methods are worth s{udying even today (teamwork, instruction.s and sermons, songs and pictures, processions, retreats for the elite.). Blessed Marie Th&&e Couderc: born, 1805 ; died, ~1885 ; beati-fied, Nov. 4, 1951. ~A slmple peasant girl, she became,the foun-dress of the Institute of the Cenacle (1827)~, whose aim is to give the Spiritual Exercises to women of every class. Through a series of misunderstandings, she was deposed from her office of superior and spent the last fifty years of her life in obscurity, heroic humility, and patience. In 1952 the Cenacle had 2,000 members in Europe and America. Blessed Rosa Venerini: born, 1656; died, 1728; beatified, May 4, 1952. As a girl she gathered poor children to teach them their 214 BEATIFICATIONS, 1951 - 195 2 prayers and Christian doctrine and thus gradually came to found the institute of Maestre Pfe, which today has some fifty establish-ments in Italy and North America. At first her work was regarded, as an innovation and met with man}, obstacles. One objection Rosa and her companions had to face was that women had no right to teach Christian doctrine, since it was to men that Christ had said, "He who heareth you, heareth me." Blessed Raffaela Porras (Raffaela-Maria of the Sacred Heart): born, 1850; died, 1925; beatified, May 18, 1952. Together with. her elder sister Dolores she founded in Madrid the Handmaids of the Sacred Heart. At forty-three she was prevailed upon by her critics to retire from the government of her institute as incapable; the opposi-tion party was led by her own sister, who succeeded her as superior general. She spent the rest of her life, 32 years, in obscurity and suffering: painful but fruitful years. Her institute at present counts fifty-six houses in Europe, America, and Japan. Blessed Marfa-Bertflla Boscardfn: born, 1888; died, 1922; be- "atified, dune 8, 1952. Born of poor Italian farmers and seemingly little gifted, she was a real Cinderella at home, at school, and after-wards in the Institute of the Sisters of St. Dorothea, which sh~ joined at seventeen. But she revealed herself a most devoted and skillful nurse and for most of her religious life she worked in the hospital of .Treviso, where she spent herself in the care of the sick and (during the first World War) of the wounded soldiers. Though suffering herself from a serious disease, she continued her service till obedience obliged her to undergo an operation: but it was too late and she died at the age of thirty-four. Often misjudged by her superiors, she w, as venerated by doctors and patients, and the cause of her beatification was taken up soon after her death. She was extraordinarily humble, the catechism was her favorite book, and the way she chose to follow was the most ordinary way, the via dei card (cart road), as she put it. She prayed that she might "rather die than do a single action in order to b,e seen." Anthon~t-MarV Pucci: born, 1819; died, 1892; beatified, June 22, 1952. He was moved by his devotion to Mary to jbin the Or-der of Servites. After his ordination he was sent to Viareggio in Tuscany where he worked first as curate for three years, and then as parish priest for 46 years, till his death. In this office he showed himself really "another Christ"; in him, the Holy Father said, "~e can contemplate an authentic image of the divine Redeemer." 215 NEW CONGREGATIONS Review for Religious "The Gospel teaches that there is a powerful grace of sanctifica-tion for priests, Obtained by the merits and prayer of Jesus Christ. Did He not ask the Father, in His sacerdotal prayer (JolSn 17: 17- 19) to sanctify them in the truth, as he was offering Himself as a 'victim in a sacrifice for them? The grace of the Catholic priesthood has, since nearly twenty centuries, produced incomparable fruits in every country of the world, and tl~e number of Saints endowed with the priestly character is constantly.growing . . . There is nothing greater on earth tban a holy priest." Blessed Anthony-Mary is for all priests "a luminous example in the exercise of the sacred ministry." His whole life was a sermon "because there was perfect agreement between his words and his ac-tions."' His self-devotion to his flock--in teaching Christian doc-trine,, spending long hours in the confessional, guiding ~he young,' and especially in helping the sick during a terrible cholera epidemic --was admirable and conquered all hearts, thougb it was a time of strong anticlericalism. But he "was not content with his own indi-vidual action"; he became a precursor of modern Catholic Action by establishing associations for every category of his parishioners-- children and adolescents, men and women--whom he imbued with his own zeal. He also founded the Institute of the Servants of Mary, a nursery of catechists and teachers. He started societies of St. Vincent de Paul (which were still new at that time), and open-ed the first seaside hor~e for poor sickly children. New Congregat:ions The Sisters, Home Visitor.s 0'f Mary.have the special apostolate of convert work among Negroes. This community was organized four years ago in Detroit under,the patronage of Edward Cardinal ~Mooney. The sisters teach religion to boys and girls who attend the public schools and to adults; they also conduct recreational pro-grams, plan clinics, conduct classes in home making and home nursing, and carry out other social . service activities. Their mother house is at 356 Arden Park, Detroit 2, Michigan. .The habit is a simple navy blue dress, coat, and hit in present-day style. , The Sons of Mary, Health of the Sick will specialize in medical and catechetical work for the missions and will train many of the 216 dul~ , 1954 NEW CONGREGATIONS Catholic natives to be nurse-catechists. This congregation of brothers was founded by Father Edward F. Gareschd. The novitiate was established at Sylva Maria, Framingham, Massachusetts, with the encouragement and help of. Archbishop Cushing. The habit is of dark blue with a dark blue cord around the waist; a rosary with white beads hangs.from~ the cord. Not exactly new-is the congregation of Dominican Rural Mis-sionaries. This institute was f~unded in France and was affiliated with the Dominican Order in 1932. At that time they numbered 20. They'now number 427, with 69 houses (65 in France, 1 in Switzerland, 1 in Canada, and 2 in the United States). The houses in this country are in Louisiana, ~where tile first was opened in 1951. The sisters are dedicated,to the spiritual welfare of the people of the rural areas, especially within the framework of the parish, and without distinction of race, color, or creed. Further information about this congregation may be obtained from Mother Marie St. Paul, O.P., Convent of the Epiphany, Gross Tete, Louisiana. CONGRESS IN BUENOS AIRES An international congress on the states of perfection was held in Buenos Aires, March 3-11, 1954. The Sacred Congregation of Religious convoked the co~gress and sent a delegation headed by its secretary, Father Arcadio Larraona, C.M.F. The Cardinal Archbishop of Buenos Aires, Dr. Santiago L. Copello, presided at the ~ongress; Father Larraona was its general director. Since the congress' was on the ':states of perfection,~' it included not only religious but also others who are dedicated to the quest of evangelical perfection, such as members of secular insti-tutes. There were representatives from Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Paraguay, and Uruguay. COMMENTARY ON LITTLE OFFICE ~ Father John J. Kugler, S.D.B. is the author of A Commenta(y on the New Little Ottice. The book contains parallel columns of the new Latin version of the Psalms and an English translation; also verse-by-verse notes on the Psalms, and a liturgical explanation of each hour. This book should be very helpful to reli-gious who are using the Little Office with the new version of the. Psalms. It should be noted, however, that this is not the new edition of the Little Office which was described by Father Ellis in a recent article (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIII [May~ 1954], 149). Father Kugler's book refers to the standard edition of the Little Office with the new version of the Psalms. The price of the book is $2.00. It may be obtained from: Salesiana Publishers, 202 Union Ave., Pater-son 2, N.J. 217 uesffons Answers --22- Have you any advice for a nun who thinks that God has begun to fa-vor her with mvstical graces and who cannot find any priest to direct If it be simply impossible to get direction from some competent person, read something that is to the point. Probably the best brief., treatise in English is the relevant part of Tanquerey, The Spiritual Life, pp. 637-740. An excellent work on prayer is Lehodey, The Wags of Mental Prager. Much the most thorough-going book on the direction ~'f mystics is Poulain, The Graces of Interior Prager (enlarged edition, 1950). This last book would hardly be suitable for self-direction for many people with less education; they would find it overwhelming and confusing, rather tfian enlightening and helpful. All the general principles of Catholic asceticism apply to mys-tics; in fact, they apply to them more fully and strictly. Souls fa-vored by God with greater graces should be more eager to love Him with all their hearts, to keep all the divine precepts and counsels, to be quite mortified, observant, zealous, and so on with all the virtues. If the Holy Spirit seems to be inviting one to a simpler, more passive, form of prayer, ~nd if, all things considered, it appears to be more promising than any other that one-could Eursue, then" one should give oneself up to

Issue 58.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1999. ; fo r relg io iu s, Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living jANUARY-FEBRUARY 1999 ¯ VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be inforntative, practical, bistorical,'or inspirational, written from a theological or spt~itual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universi~, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; \,Vashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 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 James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC .Chrfisfian Heritages and Contemporary Lfiv~ng JANUARY-FEBRUARY 199~ * VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 6 28 perspective. Apostles and Martyrs: Consecrated Life at the Bishops' Synod for Asia John Mansford Prior SVD presents the challenge of the 1998 Synod for Asia to enter into a threefold dialogue--with religions, cultures, and the marginalized. Catholic Guides in Dialogue with Buddhist Practice Paul Bernadicou SJ reviews the progress of Catholic writers in their efforts to provide a fruitful exchange between Christianity and Buddhism. 35 42 traditions Lithuanian and American Sisters: A Lively Interactive Dance Barbara Valuckas SSND describes some of the similarities and differences in the issues facing women religious in the West and in Lithuania. Serpents and Doves: The Company of St. Ursula Ann White draws our attention to the pioneering Ursuline Marie Guyart (Blessed Marie of the Incarnation) living out the vision and spirit of the foundress, St. Angela Merici, to combine the secular and sacred, the worldly and the religious. spirituality 48 The Art of Discernment: The Aesthetic Dimension Xavier Plissart MAfr explains that a basic and essential quality of disce~:nment is that it should strive to be as common as possible in its insight and process, and as universal as possible in the aim toward action. Review for Religious 61 The Still Point: Contemplation Kathy Dunne RC shares her experience and her insights into the unitive way, a way not isolated in prayer, but intimately connected with the dance between the contemplative and apostolic life. 68 82 .aging Caring for Our Own: Competent, Personal Long-term Care in a Faith Perspective Imelda Maurer CDP pictures how life in long-term care looks for some communities of women religious and the witness that is given to the human values that our faith provides. What Is My Mission in Retirement? Francis Blouin FIC clarifies the call of service especially for those who no longer serve in active ministry. 86 report Scrupulosity: Age-old Problem, Holistic Response Paul Duckro, C. Alex Pollard, and Jason Williams describe a synergistic collaboration between behavioral science and religious faith for finding an effective response to the problem of scrupulosity. departments 4 Prisms 98 Canonical Counsel: Living the Evangelical Counsels 103 Book Reviews Janualy-l.¥brllaty 1999 Many of us are familiar with the late Henri Nouwen's Return of the Prodigal Son--a book in which Nouwen reflects on the Gospel story and Rembrandt's painting of the same title displayed in the Hermitage musuem in Saint Petersburg in Russia. Some years after writing the book, Nouwen died while he was on a journey to Russia to participate in a television fea-ture dealing with the painting and his book. Nouwen's fascination with Rembrandt's painting of the famous Lucan parable makes a special appeal to us all in the year 1999. As we continue to follow the direc-tions of Pope John Paul's apostolic letter "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," we know that the year 1999 is dedicated to seeing things "in the perspective of Christ: in the perspective Of the 'Father who is in heaven'" (§49; Mt 5: 45). Just as the previous two years were dedicated respectively to Jesus Christ and to the Holy Spirit, so this final year preparatory to the new millennium is focused particul.arly upon God--the One Jesus calls Abba-Father. A dynamic is uniquely associated with this third year of preparation. It is the journey motif. We are to pay special attention to the fact that we human beings are '.'on the journey to the house of the Father." The God we come to know on our journeying is not just a good God but a God of forgiving love, a compassionate God. Following an allusion made by the pope, w.e might iden-tify the year 1999 as the year of the parable of the prodi-gal. Like the prodigal, we all are on the road leading home. Like the prodigal, we may have a mix of feelings about the life choices we have made and the values we Review for Religqous. have lived. Like the prodigal, in the midst of evaluating our life we sometimes find ourselves needing to throw ourselves on God's mercy--and ready to do so. In one way or another, then, we tend to find ourselves on the road with the prodigal, similar in our rue-ful disquiet about past failings and in our modest plans for a fresh start. Most important, though, is our coming to the ever new and deepening understanding of the reality of God's relationship with us--the One who keeps watching for us whenever our approach, the One who hastens to embrace us into the family. Demanding as the actual journeying of our life may be, our attention should be fixed primarily on the journey of our heart. The heart needs to be quiet and hear the questions: Where are we now in our journey? Is life for us Christians lived truly as a pilgrimage--a journey with a direction? How have we come to know God in our adult years? Is God the one we experience as so compassionate to us that we feel the pull to address God with Jesus' intimacy-of-love word Abba? Most commonly, pilgrimage evokes a picturing of a group mov-ing onward together. So, too, in our pilgrimage we are not alone. Our Christian community in all its various forms--family, parish, sodality, religious congregation--makes real that it is a "we" jour-neying together to the Father. The call to a new evangelization summons us, already known in Pauline times as a people of "The Way," to be welcoming to a humanity searching for the way. Pilgrims are known to tell stories as in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, and pilgrims are known to sing songs as the psalms so often describe. As we continue our journeying in 1999, we need to tell one another our own parables of a pilgrimage home. Together we sing songs of praise to the Father "who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing'I (Ep 1:3-4). The year 1999 can be a special pilgrimage for us all. David L. Fleming sJ Januao,-Februaty 1999 JOHN MANSFORD PRIOR Apostles and Martyrs: Consecrated Life at the Bishops' Synod for Asia Nowhere else in the world is religious life flourishing-- in both its traditional and more contemporary forms-- as it seems to be in Asia. Thus, unsurprisingly, of the 252 participants at the Synod for Asia (19 April to 14 May 1998), some 90 were members of religious orders or congregations, 36 percent of the total. Among these 90 were 63 of the 188 synodal fathers (including 10 superiors general) and 27 of the 58 auditors and experts (including 8 sisters, 5 priests, and two brothers). These numbers, of course, do not represent the pro-portions of consecrated life in Asia and are not intended to. Eight sisters among 244 men reflects neither the presence nor the role of sisters--let alone other women--in the mission of the Asian churches. It was, after all, a synod of bishops, not a, meeting of religious. The ninety religious were present because religious are active in Asia today at all levels of ecclesial life. But with over a third' of the participants belonging to religious orders and congregations, religious life in Asia was not far from the surface of the synodal discussions. John Mansford.Prior SVD has worked in Indonesia since 1973 and writes from Seminari St. Paulus Ledalero; Maumere 86152, Flores-NT:r; Indonesia. During the Synod for Asia, he was liaison officer for the English-speaking press. His article is being published also in Informationes SCRIS, the in-house publicatio~a of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societie~ of ApoStolic Life. Review for Religious The theme of the synod--"Jesus Christ the Savior and his mission of love and service in Asia 'that they may have life and have it abundantly'"--does not refer directly to consecrated life, but it is central to religious life. Religious are active agents in Jesus' mission of love and service, and so consecrated life was referred to in the context of mission. The evangelical theme of the synod was explained at leng.th in two presynodal documents, the lineamenta (guidelines) published in September 1996 and the instrumentum laboris (working docu-ment) published on the eve of the synod itself (February 1998). I wish to glance briefly at these two documents before looking at the synodal documents themselves. Presynodal Documents While all the lineamenta are of interest to religious as mis-sioners, there are just six explicit observations on consecrated life in this document. Half of these are in chapter 2, on the history of Christianity in Asia. Regarding mission in Asia before the 12th century, we read: "Most of these early missionaries and bishops were monks; others were merchants and ordinary Christians" (§9). The important point here is that Eastern-rite churches have been in Asia since Apostolic times and are not the result of Western colonial expansion since the days of da Gama and Columbus. These churches in the Middle East (from Palestine to Iran) and 'in southern India (Kerala), founded long ago by "monks, merchants, and ordinary Christians," are Asian and are accepted as such amid the dominant local populations, whether Muslim or Hindu. This was emphasized time and again by the patriarchs and bishops of these churches. Unfortunately, the story is. different for other churches in Asia. In the 15th and 16th centuries, missionary activity went hand in hand with the colonial expansion of Portugal and Spain. Even today, five hundred years later and half a century since most Asian countries achieve~l political independence, these Latin-rite churches are still looked upon as Western imports. Although some churches were initiated by laypeople (in Indonesia, for example) or even were founded by laypeople (in Korea, for exam-pie), many of these missi6ners were religious. Thus we read in § 10: "Between 1510 and 1640, Franciscans, Jesuits, Dominicans, Augustinians, Carmelites, and Theatines all established houses in Prior * Apostles and Martyrs Asia." Despite the colonial link, the lineamenta emphasize these orders' pioneering work of inculturation. Clearly, the guidelines are rereading history with the needs of contemporary mission in mind. The small, "half-hidden tradition" of dialogue in the past is about to become the great "major tradition" for dialogue in the future. "Many 'missionary-minded' religious congregations sprang up in Europe during the 19th and 20th centuries. Several of these congregations are still at work in Asia. During t.his same period a number of Asian religious congregations of men and women estab-lished themselves in Asia, particularly in India and the Philippines. During the 19th century, for the first time women ventured out into distant lands in Asia to bear witness to Christ and his gospel and to serve the poor . They also became a very essential part of mission in Asia, especially in the preparation of catechumens and the education of children" (§12). One of the signs of renewal since Vatican Council II is the way in which education, previously domesticating, is now. more and more following a liberating model. Such postconciliar renewal is taken up in the following section on "Lessons Learned from History." Among "Significant Contributions" after Vatican II are "con-tinental structures . for the religious in Asia, such as the Asian Meeting of Religious (AMOR), [which] bring the particular churches in Asia together and help coordinate their missionary and pastoral activities" (§14). Perhaps AMOR has achieved more than any other collegial body in opening up the leaders of religious orders and congregations to the wider social realities in which they live and work. This is surely the vital role that Asia-wide bodies are filling: awareness building and ongoing formation among religious leadership. There will be no new evangelization without a shift in consciousness (one of Longeran's "conversions"). Shifts in consciousness come about when we listen to each other and discover the links between our differing situations. Ond important sign that the local churches are now becoming mission-sending churches instead of being exclusivelj~ or mostly mission-receiving churches is the emergence of new Asian mis-sion societies. In the past "the agents of mission were mostly mem-bers of religious orders, congregations, and missionary institutes. Today the local churches of Asia have a number of Asian mis-sionary institutes" (§ 15). As we shall see, this was later taken up on the floor of the synod. Review for Religious Towards the end of the lineamenta ("Agents of Evangelization," §32), the term "consecrated life" is used for the first time. This is in the context of a mission theology of religious life. "It is a very heartening thing to note that many particular churches in Asia have already established mission institutes to send missioners to other countries, even though they themselves are in need of missioners in their own countries. Asian bishops have a particular responsibility to promote mission institutes and to be generous with their personnel for mission areas. Religious orders, congregations, and mission institutes have played a very remarkable role in the evangelization of Asia from the very beginning. Consecrated life is a very privileged means of evange-lization. Persons consecrated by religious vows can dedicate themselves fully to evan-gelization work because of their radical choice of the evangelical counsels, their total availability, their capacity for origi-nality in mission methods--as the history of mission shows, their spirit of generosity and their easy mobility." In this way the lin-eamenta sum up consecrated life in Asia: its historical contribution, distinctive witness, and recent developments. Responses from Asian episcopal conferences to the lineamenta were numerous, some of which have been widely published. Those of Japan, Taiwan, Indonesia, and India appeared in the East Asian Pastoral Review (no. 1, 1998). The instrumentnm laboris, or syn-odal working document, is thus a commentary by the preparatory committee upon the lineamenta, taking into account the views of the Asian bishops. Not surprisingly, the instrumentum is very dif-ferent in both tone and accentuation from the initial document. It is closer to Asia. Religious life gets five explicit mefftions, and these are of inter-est: First, in the historical section, it is regretted that the pio-neering work of dialogue with cultures and other Asian religions was discontinued so quicklyi "Even though the missionaries' efforts met with many successes, it is felt that a proper understanding of these elements in the work of evangelization would have led to a greater acceptance of the faith by the people of Asia . The church's rediscovered appreciation of other religions and cultures should find greater expression in her missidnary approach" (§14). There will be no new evangelization without a shift in consciousness. Janumy-Feb~wa~y 1999 Religious today are being called to recapture these creative insights from the past. However, there is a price to pay. In continuing Jesus' mission of love and service through interreligious and inter-cultural dialogue, consecrated life in the Latin rite will have to leave behind its Western heritage and become radically Asian. This latter point was brought up many times on the floor 6f the synod. While no section in the lineamenta was devoted to religious life, the whole of §16 of the instrumentum is. devoted to "Consecrated Witness." Mention is made of the "steady increase in the number of vocations during the past decades," both to "tra-ditional religious congregations and institutes which are Western in origin; in recent years a number of new local religious congre-gations have sprung up in Asia." "In many cases o . . service pro-vided by missioners has led to martyrdom." "Witness in Asia has ¯ . . come from a great many of the church's religious orders and congregations who have made a major contribution to the growth of the local churches in Asia during the last five hundred years of evangelization. Tens of thousands of religious sisters and brothers, by their love and unselfish service to those who suffer from poverty in its many forms, have contributed to nourishing the faith of many in the church in Asia. Some of these have given an invalu-able service to local churches by establishing houses of formation, especially seminaries. They have been able to reveal the compas-sionate, loving, and caring face of Jesus to the peoples of Asia. Religious brothers have given an outstanding service to the cause of general education, vocational training, technical education, and developmental works. Contemplative religious have also made a unique contribution to the Christian mission in Asia by their prayers and their witness of complete dedication to a life of union with God." Missioners are contemplatives in action--this is a favorite saying of John Paul II. The evaluation of Catholic mission history in Asia (920, "Leaven in Society") highlights the work of religious in educating the laity. Not aJfew outstanding national leaders in cultural, eco-nomic, and .political affairs, even in countries where Christians are a tiny minority, are alumni of Catholic schools. Towards the end of the instrumentum are two more refer-ences to consecrated life, neither of which' is found in the initial lineamenta. In 942, "The Word of God and Mission," we read: "Some responses ask for a greater attention to the Sacred Review for Religious Scriptures, the word of God, in all areas of church life, especially by bishops, priests, deacons, those in consecrated life, catechists, and lay missioners. Preachers, especially missioners, should draw from the Bible and lead their hearers to take up the word of God for personal study and inspiration . God's word has an inherent power to touch the hearts of all peoples, both Christians and believers of other faiths." This link between the centrality of the biblical apostolate in mission and the centrality of the word in the life witness of the missioner came up later on the synodal floor. Finally, in "The Service of Dialogue," we read: "The mission of the church takes place in interaction with others of which dia-logue is an important aspect. Some bishops in Asia have placed an emphasis upon what they term a 'dialogue of life and heart.' . ¯ . Cloistered sisters, who lead lives of prayer and love in open friendship with their neighbors of other faiths, have shown them-selves to be among the most effective practitioners of the dialogue of life." This is one of the few references to contemplative life in the presynodal documents. While just two participants in the synod were from contemplative orders, a central part of the synod was the link between contemplation and action. God-experience and authentic life-witness are crucial. Proclamation in Dialogue During the first seven days, 191 interventions were made by the synodal members and auditors. A quick, thematic analysis of these interventions follows. Twenty-three interventions were on °interfaith dialogue, 18 on the local, church as a communion of communities (a participative, collegial church). Sixteen interven-tions were on inculturation, 11 on the church's option to accom-pany the poor and margin.alized, and 10 on the challenge of economic globalization. Another 10 were on Asian spirituality and God-experience, 7 on youth, and another 7 on the church in China. Six focused on the ancient Apostolic churches of the Middle East, 5 on issues concerning women, 5 concerning the laity, 4 con-cerning schools, 4 concerning ecumenism, 4 concerning indigenous peoples, 4 concerning family life, and so on. VVhat picture emerges from this rough breakdown? Seventy-six percent of the intervention~s (146) dealt with four main topics: the Asian churches in diaiogue with other faith traditions (43 inter-ventions), the church becoming Asian by dialoguing with living Janttary-Februat.'y 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs r ¯ ] cultures (41 interventions), the churches learning to dialogue with the poor (33 interventions), and the Asian church as a church of the laity (29 interventions). Thus, for the bishops and observers, the threefold dialogue with other religions, with cultures, and with the marginalized looks to the context, approach, and con-tent of the New Evangelization. In this threefold dialogue Christ will become all in all, "that they have life and have it abundantly." Clearly, members of religious orders and congregations are involved in this threefold dialogue, one way or another. In responding to Jesus' mission through the threefold dialogue, con-secrated life itself is evange.lized. It must be noted that only three interventions took up conse-crated life as its sole subject (§§2"5, 81, and 99), while three supe-riors general included religious life as one of their topics (§§68, 133, and 134). Others touched upon consecrated life as part of their intervention. Ten superiors general spoke of various aspects of mission. Some other interventions are of direct relevance to religious, those on Asian spirituality, for instance, and on the strug-gle of women. I here pinpoint a few major issues culled from these interventions. Women in Church and Society Keeping in mind that the great majority of religious are women and that the majority of missioners in Asia are women also, the few interventions on women are of particular impor-tance. Sister Filomena Hirota MME (Japan), one of the eight sis-ter auditors pres.ent, spoke on women's growing awareness and on women's movements which demand that the fundamental equal-ity and dignity of all women and girls be respected in thought, attitudes, and practices. After referring to statements by the FABC (Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences) over the years, she said: "The church in Asia has a predominantly feminine face. In many countries women constitute 70-80 percent of its member-ship. The presence of women in pastoral ministry, their service to the poor and marginated, their commitment to peace and jus-tice in ecumenical and interreligious relationships, and their sol-idarity actions in promoting the dignity and equality of all women, men, and children have been significant and important." She went. on to say: "A new way of being church in Asia calls for a church in solidarity with the cry of women in a prophetic Review for Religious way." The church is called to "become a credible sign of the dig-nity and freedom of women in society and in the world" (Fourth FABC Assembly). The church has to find a concrete way to respond to the Holy Father's words expressing regret and apology for wrongs and insensitivities toward women in the church: "May this regret be transformed, on the part of the whole church, into a renewed commitment to fidelity to the gospel vision" (Letter to Women, 29 June 1995). She made five proposals: (1) "Members of Mother Church are called to be agents of communion, to create wholesome and equal relationships of compassion and care among humankind and with nature." (2) "Theology from women's perspectives and experiences should be introduced in seminaries and mission formation courses." (3) "It is important, indeed necessary, for male members of Mother Church to discover and grow in 'feminine' insights and attitudes in imita-tion of Jesus (see FABC Assembly 1990) so that their service may be fully and genuinely human and Christian in a society where the logic of domination is destroying both human beings and nature." (4) "Future priests should be formed so as to accept women as equal disciples and companions in their evangelization work." (5) "As a concrete sign of recognition of the fundamental equality of all bap-tized persons (including their dignity and rights) and the church's commitment to uphold women as equal partners, it is urgently rec-ommended: (a) that there be a minimum of 30 percent participa-tion of women in all church organizations and councils; (b) that in the church all women, including religious sisters, be justly com-pensated for their work; (c) that women be given support and opportunities which will enable them to study theology and related subjects; (d) that in each diocese a committee be formed to address injustice, especially against women and children, and to take effec-tive appropriate action in coordination with other local, national, and international organizations; (e) that all language (which sub-consciously influences our conscious attitudes) of church-related writings reflect the equality of men and women. May Mary of the Magnificat accompany us in this jourfiey as we women commit ourselves to Jesus' mission of love and service in Asia!" Appropriate here is the intervention of Pastor Agustina Lumentut, of the Central Sulawesi Christian Church of Indonesia, The church in Asia has a predominantly feminine face. Januat3,-FebruaD, 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs one. of the ecumenical delegates from the Christian Conference of Asia. She noted: "In Asia many countries are afflicted by a mon-etary and economic crisis. Therefore poverty and suffering increase for men, but in particular for women who will be hit most by the rising prices of their basic needs. Often the husbands and the older children of Asian women have gone away to the big cities to find a job and never return. No 'syn-odos,' no 'walking-together' any-more for many Asian women and their families. But there is a 'syn-odos,' a 'walking-together' with women from the same reli-gion, but also from other religions, women who have similar expe-riences. As Asian women theologians have stated: 'These shared experiences can become one of the primary sources for theologi-cal reflection, for rereading the Scripture, for a new interpretation, a new perspective.' As long as Asian women find the courage to tell each other their stories and share their .experiences, they have hope. Women are walking together. But is the church walking with them?" David Fleming SM, superior general of the Marianists (inter-vention no. 68), reflected on the compelling power of feminine images of the holy in Asian religions. In Hindu spirituality female images usually stand for shakti, power, creative energy. In Bengali Hinduism great attention is paid to Durga, a feminine image of the holy that is portrayed, almost like the Woman of the Apocalypse (chap. 12) as conquering the forces of evil, crushing the serpent's or dragon's head. Such feminine images, far from inducing passivity and helpless resignation, point to great social dynamism. The many feminine figures in Asia have arisen in a context of theo-logical reflection and catechesis that-is totally different from ours and surely unacceptable to us as Christians on the level of doctrine. Nevertheless, they enshrine some religious imagery that we Christians naturally find realized in Mary. She is a holy woman of contemplative sensitivity, one who experienced God rather than analyzed God. She is full of compassion and sensitivity to the poor and suffering, in dynamic solidarity with them, sharing their strug-gles as a woman of the people in an oppressed nation. In herself she lives a harmony with God, with her fellow human beings, with nature, and with society. David Fleming ended by saying: "Much of this Asian sensitivity for what we might roughly call the 'feminine' aspects of the holy is in fact integrated into the tender and almost cbnnatural devo-tion to Mary that characterizes so many Asian Christians. I am Review for Religious not talking of an integration of doctrine or of any new theologi-cal assertions about Mary. But I believe that a culture that shows so great a sensitivity to the feminine side of the holy has a great deal to contribute to our Christian experience of Mary, not only in Asia but also in the rest of the world. It helps us see the dynamism and vitality of Mary in the work of salvation and her power to motivate us to a commitment in solidarity with the poor. In this way we can give a greater Asian content to the conviction often expressed by the Holy Father that Mary is the 'Star' enlight-ening and directing the progress of the new evangelization in our era." All this is of interest to religious, both women and men. What images of God have we internalized, which images are we proclaiming by our lifestyle and in our work? God-Experience Time and again, bishops spoke out on the centrality of authen-tic experience of the human and the divine. I take up just one example, the presentation of Bishop John Osta of Patna, India (intervention no. 37). It is, "Bishop John said, "not enough to repeat doctrinal or theoretical formulas; personal witness to a personal experience is called for." Bishop John called for a new contem-plative lifestyle for all in the church. In this "rebirthing" of the church, religious have a pioneering role: live the Christian mystew in an Asian way! Integrating prayer forms from other Asian reli-gions is not syncretism, he maintained, but a demand of our times. The bishop continued by quoting FABC (Hong Kong, 1977): "The decisive new phenomenon for Christianity in Asia will be the emergence of genuine Christian communities in Asia, Asian in their way of thinking, praying, living, communicating their own Christ-experience to others . We should beware of seeing our future mission in categories that belong to the past, when the West shaped the churches' history. If the Asian churches do not dis-cover their own identity, they have no future." David Fleming made an interesting contribution on some aspects of the "dialogue of religious experience." His nine years in Nepal and India informed his presentation. He said: "To speak to the heart of Asian people and enter into a genuine dialogue of religious experience, religious and bishops should give special attention to developing the Christian contemplative life in Asia, as well as to enriching the contemplative dim.ension within all insti- P~o__r_ ¯ ~ostles and Martyrs, tutes of consecrated life, in order to create inculturated forms of living the spirituality of each institute. This is an aspiration widely shared, but not always so well realized, by religious institutes pre-sent in Asia." He continued: "Interreligious dialogue on the level of reli-gious experience involves a giving and a receiving, so that much can be learned from the deep religiosity of people and from their religions. Such dialogue shows us concretely how the Spirit of God has been at work through the centuries in the religious expe-rience of others. We often find that interchanges with seekers of holiness in other religions open up new vistas for Christian life and especially refresh our'memory of elements in our Christian spir~ itual heritage that we have tended to forget and neglect." He gave some examples: "A genuinely inculturated celebra-tion of the Eucharist. Very often, after participating in liturgies that integrated elements from the great variety of Indian cultures-- Hindu, Muslim, animist--Indian Catholics told me how richly these inculturated liturgies moved them, touching something that had perhaps been buried and a bit regretted in their souls during their years of taking part in more Western-style liturgies." A sec-ond example: "The disciplines of yoga direct us to pay greater attention to an approach to the body that disposes us to prayer. Similar teaching exists in our Christian tradition, especially in the hesychasm of Eastern medieval Christianity. But I doubt if we will easily rediscover this neglected dimension of spiritual discipline without the help of interreligious dialogue." Another example: "Attention to the rich oriental teaching .on praying with a mantra has sparked a fruitful renewal of c'ontemplative prayer among Christians in our time, often called 'centering prayer.' A similar approach was inculcated in ancient Christian monasticism, from the Egyptian desert through John Cassian, and in the oriental Christian tradition of the Jesus Prayer. The prayer of the rosary is, in its own way, within the same tradition. But today many Christians, East and West, are rediscovering this contemplative form of prayer through interreligious dialogue." Cardinal Eduardo Martfnez Somalo, prefect of the Congregationfor Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) gave the 81st intervention. The cardinal's eight points emphasized the centrality of t~tal dedication by the consecrated person. The key to mission witness is who she or he is, not what she or he does. Cardinal Martfnez Somalo linked the Revlew for Religious contemplative and mystical dimension of consecrated life to an ascetical lifestyle. This comment is particularly pertinent as Asia suffers a major monetary crisis on top of long-standing systemic poverty and injustice. In simplicity and prayerful silence, religious undergo day by day conversion to the gospel. After the primacy of religious experience, the cardinal emphasized the need for a solid theological formation, particularly necessary as we enter into dia-logue with Asian cultures and other Asian religions. He ended on a note of joy and hope at the many vocations to religious life in Asia. These key issues echoed and strengthened the contributions from Asia itself. Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, superior general of the Jesuits, con-trastedthose who work for results with those who live out of love (intervention no. 97). The high-quality institutions run by reli-gious orders do not automatically proclaim the love of God. Our apostolates proclaim love when they are run by people "through whom God's love shines." Similarly with the work of dialogue: we dialogue in love without calculation or ulterior motives. In our apostolates we do not proclaim self but Christ crucified. I was reminded of the saying of John of the Cross: "Where there is no love, put love, and you will reap love." A short comment, one of many during the synod, about the centrality of God-experience, came from Bishop Gratian Mundadan (intervention no. 124) of Bijnor of the Syro-Malabar rite, India: "A Hindu sadhu once told Abhishiktanandaswamy: If you want to touch the heart of Indians, every one of you must become a guru. A guru is one who has deep God-experience. Such a guru does not quote, does not instruct, does not formulate, does not dogmatize. The guru shares personal experience of God, It is not just a question of presenting Jesus Christ as the guru; every Christian needs to become a guru--deep in the experience of God. . Spirit-filled and Spirit-led aposdes began their mission with sur-prisingly great success . "Unfortunately the scenario changed. The communities of the Spirit became institutionalized. When possessions, power, and authority increased, the need to rely on the power of the Spirit decreased. The Holy Spirit remained the forgotten person of the Holy Trinity. The humble, poor servant Christ, who came to serve and not to be served, was forced to assume the status of a power-ful king instead of continuing to be the King of the heart. The church began to rely on competency and human efficiency, doc- Jamtao, oPYbruaO, 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs trinal as well as juridical. If the church's power and authority comes only from competency and human efficiency, then we are facing a crisis in our mission. For such a competency based on knowledge, ideas, administrative skills, and laws will search for its legitimacy in the rational, in the human. The power of the church is reli-gious, spiritual, power from heaven. When the leaders of the church are devoid of such a spiritual power, they'will take shelter in juridical power. "There is an urgent need to change this image. The leadership of the church has to change the style of functioning, to become more spiritual, free from institutional authoritarianism and fully at the service of the gospel and the world. Such a leadership will be able to animate people to God-experience and help them translate this experience into fraternal love. This is to be the original con-tribution of the gospel to Asia, where other religions concentrate on God-experience alone without any effort to serve the brethren. The leadership of the church will have to discern and activate the vari-ous charisms of the whole Christian community: build up commu-nities of love and fellowship as did the Apostles. Such a leadership will seek to strengthen the capacity of the people of God to become true faith communities as against the dichotomy that exists today between faith and life among Christians: make these communities powerful evangelizing communities, empower the faithful and enable them to face the challenges of the present day and of the future with interior power, power from above, and not with worldly wisdom and efficiency. ".Following the way of Christ, the church in Asia has to assume the way of kenosis, of self-emptying, of the cross, of loving and self-giving service. We have to develop a kenosis ecclesiology. We have to shed attitudes of power, domination, influence. Such a church will appeal to the Asian mind . Let the call of the synod to the church of Asia be a return to the sources, to the spirit and style of the early church, where the Spirit of God reigned." Asian Mission Societies Edward Malone (Hong Kong) is the long-serving assistant secretary general of the Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences (FABC). The bishops of south, southeast, and east Asia have belonged to FABC since 1970; they are now to be joined by the churches of central Asia. Father Edward devoted his intervention Review for Religious (no. 99) to Asian mission societies: "Although the number of [Asian] Christians remains small in comparison with Asia's bur-geoning masses (2-3 percent of all Asian peoples), this 'little flock' (Lk 12:32) seeks to share its riches and discovery of Christ with neighboring peoples . They are aware that 85 percent of all the world's non-Christians live in Asia. "Responses to the call of mission and evangelization within Asia have taken a variety of forms. Most international institutes of women and men have a home in Asia. New groups and new forms of religious life, secular institutes, and lay orga-nizations have emerged to respond to the call of world mission. Yet I wish to highlight a unique ~ and essential form of mission response. This charism is that of the missionary society of apos-tolic life. In recent decades, six such societies of men have emerged in Asia: the Missionary Society of the Philippines, the Missionary Society of Saint Thomas the Apostle (India), the Catholic Foreign Mission Society of Korea, the Missionary Society of Thailand, the Lorenzo Ruiz Mission Society (Philippines), and the Heralds of Good News (India) . These societies of men who are pledged to lifelong commitment to foreign mission bring a unique--and essential-~- contribution to the church's missionary activity. "These mission societies of apostolic life contribute a partic-ular focus to mission. Their contribution is ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam. They direct their efforts to evangelization ad genres, to those who have not yet heard the liberating and salvific Good News of Jesus Christ; ad exteros, to peoples outside their own coun-try, cultural milieu, and language group; and ad vitam, through a lifelong commitment to this unique form of mission witness. There are countless local churches in Asia that owe the emergence of their faith and communities to the dedicated labors of such mis~ sion societies of apostolic life founded in other parts of the world. The 'time of the heirs' has come for all local churches of Asia to respond by establishing such mission societies . A local church is not intended to live alone; it is 'not a community in isolation from other communities of the church one and catholic. Rather it seeks communion with all of them' (FABC 1). This is a unique con-tribution that mission societies of apostolic life can bring to the local churches throughout Asia. Such societies can become 'bridges 85 percent of all the world's non-Christians live in Asia. Januaty-Febt'tlat3, 1999 Prior * Apostles and Martyrs of communion' by which the sister local churches of Asia can appreciate and exchange their unique gifts. In this way the gospel is proclaimed, communion is strengthened, the 'dream of catholic-ity' emerges and is concretized . Though not limited to Asia alone, their growth will result in Asians evangelizing Asians, the emergence of authentically missionary local churches, the strength-ening of bonds of communion among the churches of Asia . " Edward Malone then pointed out developments that foster or hinder mission ad genres. First, in an ecclesiology of communion, we need bridges of exchange and communion. Missioners ad genres foster communion among sisters churches. Second, churches that do not experience this exchange (sending/receiving) can become closed ih upon themselves. They could become vulnerable to local ideologies and a closed nati'onalism. Third, if ad genres mission is not promoted, there will remai~ many unreached peoples through-out Asia. Fourth, pastoral care even keenly felt must not be allowed to derail the local-church ad gentes mission effort (this has often happened: working abroad with nationals from the same church of origin does not fulfill the ad genres vocation). Father Malone con-cluded by mentioning two current temptations: (1) the "tempta-tion of success" (to settle down with the visible results of evangelization, hesitating to turn over the parishes, schools, and institutions to the local church and diocese and move out to new frontiers) and (2) the "temptation of pastoral care" (seeking to answer all the pastoral needs of a diocese and so losing the will to reaffirm the original charism, "to g9 and make disciples"). Ours must always be the motto of the apostle Paul: "Christus me misit non baptizare, sed evangelizare" (1 Co 1:17). Edward Malone's informative and provocative contribution drew two responses from superiors general of mission societies that originated in the West. Father Franco Cagnasso, PIME superior general (intervention no. 13 3), welcomed the Asian missioners, that is, those who remain authentically Asian. Their presence is positive for the whole church. They are less institutionalized and live close to the poor. Many have a valuable interiorized approach to the mystery of Christ. People from the other continents have redis-covered their Christian faith through reaching out to Asian spiri-tuality. Father Franco ~lso welcomed the fact that Asian churches were open to receiving cross-cultural missioners from outside Asia. The more the Asian churches become self-sufficient pastorally, the more they can move out to dialogue with others. Review for Religious This contribution was followed by that of Father Raymond Rossignol, superior general of the Missions of Paris (intervention no. 134). He emphasized that each and every church should be open to send and receive cross-cultural missioners. No church should be encapsulated. History has left the Asian churches with a problem: they are perceived by majority communities as being foreign (Western). Also, in the past, Western missioners have tended to dominate local church personnel. One reaction to this is for each church to look after itself without outside "interference." However, we need to find suitable ways to ensure that cross-cultural mis-sioners can be present in all churches--not just in those who are not yet "self-sufficient." Raymond Rossignol concluded by saying: "No church is so poor that it has nothing to offer others; no church is rich enough that it cannot receive from others." Formation of Religious One of the burdens of history is that Western-style churches were planted in Asia during the colonial era. In the words of the president of the Catholic Bishops' Conference of Sri Lanka, Bishop Oswald Thomas Colman Gomis (intervention no. 141), "the church has remained foreign in its public image and expression, in liturgy, art, architecture, mannerisms, and presentation of doc-trine, and above all in patterns of life, especially those of her reli-gious . Most of my brothers and sisters here, I believe, would agree with me that this image remains very much a block to evan-gelization today. This synod [should] find some formula to erase this scar inherited at birth by many churches in the countries of Asia." One place to start is formation. Bishop Arturo M. Bastes (intervention no. 25) gave a tour de force, finishing his presentation a split second before the micro-phone was cut off. A former SVD provincial, Bishop Arturo of Romblon, Philippines, spoke on formation for religious in the contemporary Asian context. His exposition focused on four important shifts taking place in the Asian churches: a shift from a Eurocentered church to an authentically Asian church, a shift in our understanding of history, a shift in the model of church, a shift in our understanding of spirituality. Each shift has its impact upon formation communities. ¯ According to Bishop Arturo, the church's mission in Asia has been approached from the perspective of a Eurocentered church, Prior ¯ Apostles andMartyrs deeply conditioned by the European colonialism of the times. Formation of religious was or still is monocultural, Western or European. While religious vocations are rapidly decreasing in Europe and the rest of the Western Hemisphere, there is an ever increasing number of religious vocations in Asia. A contextual-ized formation is suited to the mentality of Asians. There should be real insertion in social reality. Asian formators are developing practical methodologies in contrast to Western academic models. Academic study needs to be accompanied by practical method-ologies in the light of Asian realities. The second shift is in our understanding of history. The great world religions Hinduism and Buddhism, whose cradle is Asia, antedate Christianity by thousands of years. Christianity was born in Asia, but has been alienated from Asia by becoming Eurocentered. The Catholic Bishops' Conference of the Philippines proposed that the synod "explore exhaustively in an open and humble way the revelatory nature" of the religions of Asia and their impact on the church's proclamation of Jesus. There is much that the church can learn from other Asian religions regarding the values of God's reign. Persons beginning religious-life formation need a great feeling of respect for other religious tra-ditions which offer "salvation" even before the coming of Christ. Christian religious should not feel "superior" to people of other traditions. Asian formandi and formandae need to remain Asian even when they join international congregations. The third shift is in church models. When the church embed-ded itself in Europe, a mindset arose that considered Europe Christian and the rest of the world pagan. Unfortunately, they seem to have identified Christianity with whatever is European. Many third-world churches are striving to shift away from a tri-umphalistic model to a church identified with the social condi-tions of the people. Without a sense of the poor, there can be no genuine following of Jesus in Asia. Hence, candidates for the reli-gious life in Asia should be trained to have both an affective and effective commitment to the poor. All religious congregations today emphasize "preferential~ option for the poor." The question is: Do we really mean it? The "passing-over to the poor" is admit-tedly one of the most difficult transitions for a religious congre-gation. The fourth shift highlighted by Bishop Nrmro ~ls in our under-standing of spirituality. Traditionally we have associated spirituality Review for Religious with an institutional way of living. We need to shift our under-standing of spirituality from institutional to incarnational. More basic to each congregational charism is being rooted in the incar-nation of Christ. There is a dynamic and essential relationship between culture and spirituality in a common humanity. The three characteristics of an incarnational spirituality are self-transcen-dence, search for meaning, and the gift of self. These are at the heart of every spirituality, whether Christian or non-Christian. Globalization of the free market is attacking Asia; the prospects of the third millennium are frightening. Religious women and men of Asia should join forces to fight, con-sumerism by living a spiritual life that is accessible to their fellow Asians, whatever their creed. Bishop Arturo concluded by suggesting that religious candidates should seriously study and reflect upon the spirituality of other Asian religions besides the teachings of the Judeo-Christian Scriptures. The Spirit is present in Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, Islam, and even primal religion. The vocation of Asian religious today is to save Asia, by the wisdom and depth of Asian spirituality with which Asians feel at home, from the onslaught of materialism coming from global market forces. Asian spirituality is not opposed to the teachings of Christ, for it is a true manifestation of God's Spirit working in all peoples. Janet Wang, president of the Conference of Major Religious Superiors of Women of Malaysia-Singapore-Brunei, spoke of dia-logue within the church: only a church in dialogue can dialogue with cultures and other religions. She spoke of mission in the light of the church as communion. The church in Asia needs to grow in dialogue of life and heart so as to be a visible and efficacious sign of communion in the multiracial and multireligious societies in which we live. While we are challenged to intensify interreligious dialogue and dialogue with culture, we cannot ignore the need to improve our capacity to dialogue within the church at the grass-roots level--among priests who work in the same parish, as well as among priests, religious, and laypeople. One of the best forms of The great world religions Hinduism and Buddhism, whose cradle is Asia, antedate Christianity by thousands of years. Prior * Apostles and Martyrs For formation to become Asian, future l rofessors need to do their special studies in Asia rather than in Rome or elsewhere in the West. evangelization in secularized societies like ours is the witness of love and reconciliation, unity in diversity, authority as service. The Spirit is calling us to move away from the image of a cler-ical institution to the building of a participatory church where priests, religious, and laypeople have a common vision of church as communion. The church in Asia will become more alive and efficacious to the extent that the laity and religious are actively involved with their parish priests in pastoral plan-ning and decision making. Sister Janet said, "Our religious communities need to be recognized as Christ-centered basic ecclesial communities within the local church." Changes in attitude, however, do not come automatically. Persons need to be formed in a gradual, experiential way. Sister Janet concluded: "May I strongly recommend, also on behalf of the Conference of Religious Major Superiors of Malaysia, Singapore, and Brunei, (1) that seminarians be formed to a better understanding of consecrated life in the context of the ecclesiology of communion, (2) that pri'ests, religious, and laypeo-pie be formed together towards a new way of being church. With hearts open to the action of the Spirit, we need to listen to the word of God, to pray and reflect together, to search together, and in an atmosphere of dialogue to carry out pastoral planning, pastoral care, and mission outreach together as church, the family of God in Asia." Francis Adeodatus Micallef, apostolic vicar of Kuwait (inter-vention no. 43), also spoke of the spiritual formation of religious. "Spiritual formation of candidates should not suffer as a conse-quence of formation programs . Lifestyle should reflect the deep spiritual formation which these centers are imparting." The key word here is authenticity. Bishop Peter Chun Hon-Ting of Kuching, Malaysia (inter-vention no. 62), spoke on seminary formation; his comments are germane not only to clerical religious. Bishop Peter Chun empha-sized the absolute need for a sound knowledge of the religiocul-tural situation of one's country and a critical knowledge of the ReviewforReligious economic and political conditions that affect people. Many bish-ops emphasized the link between contemplation and involvement, spirituality and politics. Bishop Peter also stressed the dignity and equality of lay and clerical, the Bible as the soul of all theology, and the integration of Asian philosophies and spiritualities into the curriculum. For formation to become Asian, future professors need to do their special studies in Asia rather than in Rome or elsewhere in the West. Not far from the question of formation is that of spiritual direction. Vicente Cajilig OP, secretary to the Office of Education and Student Chaplaincy FABC (Philippines), gave the one inter-vention on spiritual direction. He said: "Spirituality in Asia, as seen by formators, is a form of journey and accompaniment. This journey follows a certain pathway that leads to interiority. The model of all models is Christ, with whom the formandi and for-mandae are configured. The directee arrives eventually at the stature of Christ." He concluded that, above all, a "spiritual pro-gramme that prepares spiritual directors themselves is important. While formation in theology gives candidates a firm foundation in the faith, the handling of the spiritual task requires added know-how on the journey of the Spirit." Schools A continent-wide synod is not the place to look at individual apostolates in any meaningful detail. Where the churches in Asia are small, even insignificant minorities, elite schools have been an important apostolate. As independent governments and majority communities have developed their own, even better, school systems (see intervention no. 125 by Bishop Leo Laba Ladjar of Jayapura, Indonesia), this traditional apostolate is being increasingly ques-tioned. The preferential love for the poor also raises fundamental questions. Alwis Sunanda FMS (Sri Lanka) put it like this: "An educational system, especially at the tertiary level, committed to the service of the values of Jesus and right relationships, orients its curriculum and research towards greater understanding of the social forces at work in exploitative societies such as exist in parts of Asia. It shines light on exploitative and liberative forces in those societies and tries to motivate students and teachers to choose a set of values different from the existing capitalistic, consumerist, wasteful, gender- and ethnically biased values. Its library and social January-February 1999 Prior ¯ Apostles and Martyrs communications would be a help to the poor and the needy, those who are marginalized, and exploited women and men." Brother Alwis, however, went on to suggest that "the social system in the context of Asia tends to ensure that Christian schools serve the interests of more affluent groups in society. How valid, in practice, is the argument that we can influence the future shape of our soci-ety by training the children of the elite in our schools? Are we not, instead, put in a position of maintaining the existing social order, to the extent that our own values and lifestyle are adjusted to continue a system of education that bolsters, if not aggravates, the inequalities? Often a glaring incongruence exists between the gospel we teach and the work we do, between our expressed mes-sage and the lives we live. We ourselves, though, might not notice this by reason of our great dedication to the cause we serve." Brother Alwis concludes, "Today we may have a better chance of being faithful to the call of the gospel by working in programs that foster nonformal education, adult education, values educa-tion, and education through peoples' movements rather than through traditional educational systems." This is just one thoughtful contribution among the many that were made about various apostolates. What is clear is that, fifty years after most Asian countries became independent, religious orders are having to look again at many of their traditional apos-tolates, successful as they superficially look. The Propositions The synod is over and the bishops are back at their posts. Some time in 1999 an apostolic exhortation will be published, based upon the 59 propositions drawn up during the final days of the synod. Two of these propositions, numbers 27 and 28, deal respectively with "consecrated life" and "mission societies of apos-tolic life and other mission societies." I did not receive a copy of the propositions, and the synodal members handed theirs back to the secretariat. From what I heard in the synodal hall, and the notes I made, I can make the following brief cominents. In Proposition 27, religious are looked upon as a reminder of the universal call to holiness who inspire a self-giving love towards everyone, especially the least of their brothers and sisters. The synod calls upon religious to undertake a renewal and revitaliza-tion of their commitment to proclaim the saving message of Jesus Review fo," Religious Christ. Formation should be Christ-centered and contextualized, faithful to the group's charisms, with emphasis upon life witness. Spirituality and lifestyle should be sensitive to the religious her-itage of the people they live with and serve. Proposition 28 acknowledges the continuing contribution made by mission institutes of apostolic life. The recent founding of mission institutes of apostolic life in Asia itself is an expression of the missionary dimension of the churches of Asia. The synod encourages the further establishment of mission societies charac-terized by their commitment to mission ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam. Encouraging Words Each and every woman and man dedicated to the consecrated life in Asia has received renewed encouragement from the 1998 synod to .continue the daily witness of risking oneself for Christ's sake. We have been challenged, some thirty-six years after the opening of the Second Vatican Council, to take up the language of the threefold dialogue with religions, cultures, and the marginal-ized and to flesh it out in lives of radical witness to the incarnate Word and graceful Spirit. This threefold dialogue is one integral movement of evangelization, the evangelization of the whole of life in all its myriad dimensions. As apostles of the crucified and risen Lord, we promote life in multicultural, multifaith Asia. As martyrs to the truth-giving Spirit, we endeavor to live ascetically with the marginalized. There is no reason for holding back: we have the dream, we know the strategies. We have the documents, we have the official encouragement~ The only real barrier is the narrowness of our minds and the smallness of our hearts. "Have courage, I have conquered the world!" On 16:33). "For God is greater than our hearts" (1 Jn 3:20). Janualy-Februa~y 1999 PAUL BERNADICOU Catholic Guides in Dialogue with Buddhist Practice Ion the latter 1960s Thomas Merton, prophetic here as in many ther areas with fresh religious insight, declared that, "far from being suspicious of the Oriental mystical traditions, Catholic contemplatives since the Second Vatican Council should be in a position to appreciate the wealth of experience that has accumu-lated in those traditions." His 1967 book Mystics and Zen Masters included an earlier essay expressing admiration for the 16th-cen-turyJesuit missionary effort in China, seeing that effort as a pro-logue to contemporary religious understanding. Merton was joined by a bevy of other Catholic scholars eager now to enter into dialogue rather than to proselytize in their mis-sionary outreach. In the words of the council's Declaration on Non-Christian Religions, Catholics were now asking themselves how these Asian and other ways try to pierce "that ultimate and unutterable mystery which engulfs our being, and whence we take our rise, and whither our journey leads us." The council docu-ment not only gave permission to respect the teachings of these other ways, but also invited Catholic scholars to "acknowledge, preserve, and promote the spiritual and moral goods found among them, as well as the values in their society and culture" (§§1, 2). Just before his tragic death in Bangkok at an East/West monas-tic conference, Merton wrote about his deeply moving sight of the Buddha sculptures at Polonnaruwa (Asian Journal, New Paul Bernadicou SJ chairs the University of San Francisco's theology department and is tertian instructor for the California province of the Society of Jesus. His address is 2130 Fulton Street; San Francisco, California 94117. Review for Religious Directions, 1993, pp. 233-236): "I mean, I know and have seen what I. was obscurely looking for. I do not know what else remains, but I have now seen and have pierced through the surface and got beyond the shadow and the disguise." He wrote beautifully about these huge, silent figures "questioning nothing, knowing every-thing" with their great yet serene smiles. Another Catholic monastic voice from that period was Aelred Graham's, who in Conversations: Christian and Buddhist Encounters in Japan (Harcourt, Brace, 1968, p. xiv) recounts how he sought to pass from the area of academic study to that of firsthand experi-ence of Buddhism. In his sixtieth year, after long experience as a Benedictine, he had the opportunity to speak with some for whom the Buddha was a role model no less than Jesus was for him. He describes the value of such religious encounter as "not at the peripheral level of Christian ecclesiology, which still preoccupies so many Catholic theologians, but at the basically existential level of who we are and what human life is all about." Jesuit Guides The Jesuit missionary H.M. Enomiya Lassalle, already in Japan before World War II, eventually inculturated his Christian Zen meditational practice into a Zen-style Jesuit retreat center in the countryside at a remove from bustling Tokyo. He published his personal findings regarding the helpfulness of Zen for an enhance-ment of Christian meditation. In Zen Meditation for Christians (German original, 1968; Open Court Publishers, 1974, pp. 151- ¯ 152), he illustrates this conviction with the parable of the prodi-gal son. In the typical way of Christian meditation at the time, you would reflectively think about the youth's family circum-stances, then the effrontery of his demand for his inheritance, then his degradation after wasteful spending, and finally his remorse and return to his father's house. A deeper form of medi-tation would not simply use~ the prodigal son as a symbol, but identify with him as an image of oneself. The person meditating would thus become the prodigal son. It is myself who reveled in our father's house only to estrange myself and now hanker to return in repentance and humility. "When we perform medita-tion in this manner and begin anew each time we practice, our heart is then purified and transformed directly and immediately through meditation--rather than indirectly through intellectual Janua~y-Februa~Ty 1999 Bernadicou ¯ Catholic Guides in Dialogue In Zen the method of purification involves working on koans, but in Christianity the emphasis is on meditation and the importance of Scripture. considerations of the will." This type of meditation is similar to Zen, wherein the Zen practitioner becomes one with a koan (that is, a Zen paradox designed to break through discursive con-sciousness to intuitive insight). ~ Heinrich Dumoulin, a Jesuit colleague of Lassalle at Sophia University in Tokyo, edited in the 1970s a series titled Religious Encounter: East and West which was "intended to promote an understanding of the living unity, diversity, and meeting-ground of reli-gious phenomena, Asian and Occidental." Dumoulin's own first contribution to the series, Christianity Meets Buddhism (Open Court, 1974, p. 198), emphasized that interreli-gious dialogue can contribute uniquely toward opening up a new horizon. Both Christianity and Buddhism involve a search for ulti-mate reality, and a dialogue between the two is "perhaps one of mankind's greatest hopes." A Jesuit of Japanese origin also at Sophia University, Joseph Kadowaki, whose youthful background had been Zen Buddhism and who was later baptized a Christian, came to recognize similarities between Zen monastic training and his own Jesuit novitiate training. In Zen the method of purification involves working on koans, but in Christianity the emphasis is on meditation and the imlSortance of Scripture. After he began to practice Zen, Kadowaki found that he could read the Bible in a new light. His book Zen and the Bible (Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1977) describes the method used in solving a Zen koan and shows how to appreciate the many para-doxical or obscure koan-like passages in the Bible. William Johnston, the fourth member of this quartet of Jesuit scholars of Zen at Sophia University, recently published his mag-num opus, Mystical Theology (HarperCollins, 1995, reprinted by Orbis, 1998). He has for more than twenty-five years been in the vanguard of the Christian and Zen Buddhist dialogue. He pub-lished Christian Zen: A Way of Meditation in 1971 (Harper and Row; 2nd edition, 1980); it provides explicit guidelines for a way of Christian meditation that incorporates Zen insight. Wordless Review for Religiot,s meditation, a modified lotus position, rhythmical breathing, and the use of koan are explored as Zen practices which can heighten Christian meditation. This interest in meditation led to his scientific investigation into its effects: Silent Music: The Science of Meditation (1974; reprinted, Fordham University Press, 1997). Johnston surveys what scientific research has uncovered about altered states of con-sciousness, brainwaves, and biofeedback. He investigates both Eastern and Western meditation by which one enters deeper lev-els of consciousness. The discovery of such meditation's "passive energy" and of other physiological and psychological benefits show its power to heal and comfort the distressed. And Johnston points out how the "nonattachment" and "knowledge of empa-thy" required in meditation can help people find genuine friend-ships and intimacy in their relationships. Thus he has added insights from modern science into the dialogue between Eastern and Western religious traditions. His Mystical Theology (1995) updates this message for many contemporary laypeople practicing meditation and finding them-selves drawn into mystical states of consciousness. John of the Cross wrote such a theology for the 16th century, and Johnston attempts it for our own century through his ongoing dialogue with modern science and with Buddhism. "Traditional mystical theology was written for monks and nuns . This is the age of the laity. Now married people who live a busy life in factory or classroom or office or laboratory aspire to a life of meditation and mysticism" (p. I0). They look for spiritual guidance as they grap-ple with problems of sexuality, social justice, world peace, and protection of the environment. Trappist Guides Also at the forefront of contemporary Catholic encounter with Asian practice are the adept Trappist advocates of centering prayer Basil Pennington and Thomas Keating, who have taken up where fellow Trappist Thomas Merton left off. In his 1977 Daily We Touch Him (Doubleday Image, 1979) and 1980 Centering Prayer (Doubleday Image, 1982), Pennington explored how to adapt the principles of Transcendental Meditation (TM) and Zen to Christian meditation. Daily V~e Touch Him is a simple but helpful guide to finding God's presence in one's own daily experience: "God is pre- January-February 1999 Bernadicou * Catholic Guides in Dialogue sent to us from the very first instant that he calls us into being-- and thenceforth forever he touches us at every point and level of our being. He is present to us. But are we present to him?" (pp. 14- 15). With Centering Prayer the focus is on returning to the roots of early Christian prayer, especially in the Eastern church and the patristic traditions. Centering prayer combines the best features of this Eastern Christian practice in a blend of East and West that inspires personal Christian prayer today. Thomas Keating likewise explores the Eastern Christian roots of his contemplative heritage in Open Mind, Open Heart (Continuum, 1994). The book moves beyond discursive meditation and acts of devotion to the intuiti'~e level of contemplation. Keating surveys the history of contemplative prayer in the Christian tradition, and follows with step-by-step direction in the method of centering prayer. He manifests how such an approach opens one's mind and heart to the contemplative dimension of the gospel. His recent Intimacy with God (Crossroad, 1996) builds on his earlier volumes by summarizing material from talks he has given in more recent years to people ranging from advanced prac-titioners of centering prayer to persons just starting out. He con-tinues to provide a Christian alternative to the appeal of Asian practices. His conviction is that our journey into intimacy with God leads us "powerfully outward, toward the bonding that we call the Communion of Saints: the capacity to relate to one another with the unconditional love with which Christ relates to us" (p. 160)~ Keating's prayer instruction parallels the apophatic style of much Buddhist meditation. Christian Theology and Buddhism An outstanding Catholic interlocutor with the Buddhist tra-dition on a more speculative and theological level is the Jesuit Aloysius Pieris, who was the first non-Buddhist to receive the doc-torate in Buddhist studies in his native Sri Lanka. His Love Meets Wisdom: A Christian Experience of Buddhism (Orbis, 1988) consists of a series of essays which explore the social as well as the spiritual side of Buddhism, its political and its religious visions, and issues important to the ongoing Christian-Buddhist dialogue. Pieris thinks that Christians can learn from Buddhism, integrating their own prophetic teaching .of love with the Buddhist mystical appre-ciation of wisdom. If heart-to-heart dialogue is genuinely pur- Review for Religious sued, agapeic Christianity and gnostic Buddhism will be mutually complemented and enriched in an integration of compassionate wisdom that could transform the plight of the oppressed poor and of our threatened environment. Pieris's more recent Fire and VVater: Basic Issues in Asian Buddhism and Christianity (Orbis, 1996) further expands on these liberation themes. Current Contributions Such informed exchange between Catholic and Buddhist monastics continues to proliferate in current publications. Three particularly impressed me when I recently surveyed the literature. 1. The Ground We Share: Everyday Practice, Buddhist and Christian (Shambala, 1996) is a conversation between Zen roshi Robert Aitken and Benedictine monk David Steindl-Rast, edited by Nelson Foster. Their dialogue begins with everyday practice rather than with philosophical and theological concepts. The result of their intense and lively conversations was to uncover the com-mon ground of meditational experience that gives hope for fruitful exchanges between Christianity and Buddhism into the future. 2. In The Silent Dialogue: Zen Letters to a Trappist Abbot (Continuum, 1996), David G. Hackett corresponds with sev-eral Trappist monks of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts, dur-ing the 1970s, particularly Abbot Thomas Keating. Mter Hackett's conversion to Catholicism, he set out on a two-year stay in Japan, where he experimented with how Zen practice could deepen his Christian prayer and spirituality. Abbot Keating proved himself a knowledgeable and astute guide in his comprehension and inte-gration of Eastern ways to Christian prayer, as we might have sus-pected from his own writings. 3. The Gethsernani Encounter: A Dialogue on the Spiritual Life by Buddhist and Christian Monastics (Continuum, 1997) captures the voices of some twenty-five Buddhist and twenty-five Christian monks and nuns in a discussion of their contemplative traditions Christians can learn from Buddhism, integrating their own prophetic teaching of love with the Buddhist mystical appreciation of wisdom. Januaty-Febtwa~y 1999 Bernadicou ¯ Catholic Guides in Dialogue at an historic meeting hosted by the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky. The Dalai Lama, who first suggested the conference, also recommended that it be held at Gethsemani in memory of Thomas Merton, whom he had met just before Merton's untimely death while attending a similar Buddhist and Christian monastic exchange at Bangkok. Though scholars in the field of spirituality were present, the focus of the convocation was more expressly on the everyday practice of meditation and prayer in the two tradi-tions. What steps help to progress in meditative enlightenment? What does each tradition have to contribute to our profound human yearning for an encounter with ultimate reality? What can we say and how must we respond to the compassionate wisdom with which this encounter enlightens the seeker? Prescience and Continuing Hope Just before his tragic demise in 1968, Thomas Merton stated in the Temple of Understanding meeting in Calcutta: "I think we have reached a stage of [long-overdue] religious maturity at which it may be possible for someone to remain perfectly faithful to a Christian. commitment and yet to learn in depth from, say, a Buddhist or Hindu discipline and experience." Few realized at the time how prescient this provocative comment would sound nearly thirty years later at the 1996 Gethsemani gathering. Review for Religious BARBARA VALUCKAS Lithuanian and American Sisters: A Lively Inter°active Dance Lithuania, the geographical and cultural gateway to east-ern and central Europe, was the first Soviet republic to declare independence from the Soviet Union just as the last decade of this century began. Almost immediately, American sisters of Lithuanian birth or descent, and American sisters from other ethnic backgrounds as well, went to Lithuania to knit bonds of friendship with women who had been cut off from the, world of women religious during five decades of military occupation and brutal repression of the Catholic Church. Going in response to requests from the Lithuanian congregations,. they were sponsored by the Office to Aid Eastern and Central Europe, of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB), by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), by the Hilton Fund for Sisters; and by many other organizations including their own congregations. The sisters gave canonical consultation on the adap-tation of constitutions, assisted in the formation of the Lithuanian Conference of Mfijor Superiors, gave pro-grams of theological updating and ongoing formation, and conducted retreats and days of recollection for sis-ters who could barely remember what these were. In Barbara Valuckas SSND wrote "Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home" for our May-June 1995 issue. Her address is Pilgrim Ministries, Inc.; 9 Academy Hill; Watertown, Connecticut 06795. Januao,-l~¥btvtary 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters the early days of this lively dance, the Lithuanian sisters encour-aged their American counterparts to take the lead although their United States partners learned innumerable steps from them. By 1997 the dance was well along, but the partners were begin-ning to shift places. In January 1997, while I was in Lithuania conducting a program evaluation, the president of the Conference of Major Superiors described plans for the first Congress of Lithuanian Sisters, to be held the following August. When I asked her about the main purpose of the congress, she' replied in two simple but profound words, "We exist!" To be able to affirm this after experiencing decades of efforts to exterminate religion and religious persons from Lithuania was a touching testimony to the deep faith and high courage of the Lithuanian sisters. Some months later, those of us who had worked with the sis-ters in Lithuania received invitations to attend the congress as guests. The invitations were addressed to "you, who have walked with us from the beginning." Our joyful response to this invitation brought us to Kaunas, the old capital of Lithuania, to be enthusi-astic onlookers as the Lithuanian sisters celebrated their own dance of survival and hope for the future. The theme of the congress was "the past, the present, and the future." The president of the Conference of Major Superiors, who had herself experienced years of surveillance by the KGB, recounted the sisters' sufferings during the years of occupation. One of her most startling revelations, however, was this: At the beginning of the occupation, there were seven congregations in Lithuania; at the end of the five decades of attempted annihilation, there were twenty-four! Some of this multiplication was due to the success-ful efforts of KGB infiltrators to fragment the existing congrega-tions, but much of it was due to the clandestine formation of new congregations. God provided for the future of the church through the courage of women who received their entire formation in secret. The several hundred sisters who attended the congress included older sisters who had entered established congregations before the occupation, sisters who had entered existing or new congregations secretly during the occupation, and sisters who had entered the various congregations since independence. These three groupings have had very different experiences of religious life, and yet they face together the challenge of bringing religious life in Lithuania into the future. Review for Religions This will mean facing and moving through the problems of the present. The speakers at the congress were very honest in naming these problems. They are not very different from the ones facing women religious in the West, although the historical context and hence the resolutions may be somewhat different. Some of the main issues identified by speakers at the congress were public wit-ness, community life, and just compensation. Public Witness As in the West, the sisters in Lithuania are grappling with the question of what it means to give public witness. At this point, much of this issue is being discussed in terms of the religious habit. Almost all of the sisters attending the congress wore habits even though they had not ordinarily done so. That is, as an American sis-ter of Lithuanian origin pointed out to us, most of the congregations had never worn habits because they had been formed during the occupation, when habits were forbidden. When Pope John Paul II visited Lithuania in 1993, however, the sisters were asked to come to their meeting with him in the cathedral wearing habits. So the sisters created habits on the spot and appeared before the Holy Father wearing them. They wore them again for the congress. The bishops who were present at the congress and some of the sister speakers expressed the wish that the sisters wear their religious dress at all times. It is worth noting that, unlike the sisters in the West, the women religious in occupied Lithuania were forced to give up their habits and their ministries overnight. Their change to sec-ular dress had not come about from reflection on the Vatican II documents and on the relationship of religious life to culture. By forcing the religious to put their habits away, the occupiers made the church virtually invisible overnight. Now the church hopes to regain its visibility, and wearing the habit or not is a central question. It will have to be resolved from within the lived experi-ence of the Lithuanian sisters, although they have been very inter- As in the West, the sisters in Lithuania are grappling with the question of what it means to give public witness. January-February 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters ested in learning from the sisters of the West how the habit issue wasrdealt with and resolved. Community Life o Along with their habits, the various congregations lost their buildings, their communal spaces, overnight. Many religious women were forced out onto the streets and lived there or in fields or barns until they were able to find work and lodging. All through the years of occupation, they lived in little flats with one Or two other sisters or with relatives and friends, wherever they could find a place. Now, although somd of the congregations have begun to get their property back from the government, many are still without a common space. Some of the sisters are afraid to form communities again because they have forgotten how to live com-munity life. Others are eager to try it, but feel the need for help in the skills of building community together. The middle group of sisters--those whose formation was clan-destine-- is numerically the smallest; this leaves the elderly sisters and the newest members trying to negotiate a common life :across the barriers of age and extremely different life experiences, Some of the speakers at the congress referred to these cross-genera-tional tensions and pleaded for patience and more effort to deal with them in the process of building community. A special difficulty faces the sisters who have not received' their property back or who never had common property to begin with. The elderly sisters in these congregations live in tiny flats scattered around the cities and villages. They are often dependent on the younger members for both financial support and physi-cal care. It is not uncommon for young sisters to finish a day's work only to begin visiting the individual elderly sisters, bathing them, shopping for them, and providing for other needs of theirs. These younger members are also expected to contribute their services to the growing ministries of a church that has emerged from the underground and seeks to make its voice heard ~in the culture once again. While these conditions are not directly com-parable to conditions in the West, assuring that younger mem-bers have time and space for their own formation and are not unduly burdened with maintenance issues is a Western concern as well. This situation is related to another issue narried by the Lithuanian sisters. ~ Review for Religious. Just Compensation Now that the church is free to operate in the open, the sisters are expected to give time and energy to parish ministries, catech-esis, and so forth. This is usually in addition to their full-time work in the secular economy, which provides the sustenance they and the elderly members in their care need. Speakers at the congress acknowledged the heavy burden placed on the sisters because, to date, their work for the church has gone largely uncompensated. Some speakers indicated that questions have been raised among church officials about why sisters need salaries or pensions. All of this would be very familiar to sisters from the West. Common Questions, Other Questions, Other Steps Given the similarity of the issues facing women religious in both East and West in spite of their cultural and historical differ-ences, one would assume that the dance that began at the begin-ning of this decade could go on for a long time, growing more unified as it moved into: the future. This, however, may not be the case because other dancers have moved into the space in an effort to change the dance into another kind of movement. Some of this change of step has come into Lithuania in the form of newspapers and magazines that portray women religious and reli-gious life in the West as quite degenerate. Some has come in the form of living persons. In informal conversations at the congress, some of the Lithuanian sisters spoke of making a retreat during the summer at which the retreat master gave considerable time to frightening descriptions of religious life in the West. The Lithuanian sisters heard, for example, that sisters in the West had no prayer life and that they had boyfriends. These insinuations had the effect of sowing doubt and suspicion even in sisters who had had very pos-itive experiences of the American sisters who had worked with them directly. Some of the bishops and sister speakers at the congress were quick to warn the Lithuanian sisters about negative influences from the West, especially about feminism and about failure to adhere to the teachings of the church. That some of these warnings came from the very leaders who had invited the American sisters to attend the congress may be a sign of the confusion and ambivalence toward the West that is Janua~y-Febtvlary 1999 Valuckas ¯ Lithuanian and American Sisters In every multicultural dance, there are tensions and always the danger of stepping on one another's cherished values. becoming more prevalent, not only in Lithuania, but in other countries of eastern and central Europe as well. One sister speaker exhorted the Lithuanian sisters to cling to the values of their own religious heritage and not to "turn jewels into stones." Although the majority of the grass-roots Lithuanian sisters begged'us to return to continue sharing experiences with them, seeds of doubt and uncertainty had been sown in their hearts by their own lead-ership. Since the years of occupation and Soviet-style education conditioned most Lithuanians not to trust anyone, these seeds may be falling on soil that is still receptive to doubt and mistrust. An example of this occurred during and after the congress. Speakers represent-ing both the bishops' confer-ence and the superiors' conference stressed the serious need for Lithuanian sisters to be trained in the skills of spir-itual guidance and spiritual formation of others. In fact, the sisters who had attended our workshops in earlier years had, in their evaluations, requested training in these skills. Yet our offer to pro-vide this very kind of assistance with highly trained sisters from the United States was met sometimes with polite silence and some-times with suspicious questions. In such circumstances, it is only natural to wonder about the future direction of the dance. In every multicultural dance, there are tensions and always the danger of stepping on one another's cherished values. It is clear that the Lithuanian sisters need to find their own way, a way that is true to who they are. They need to be able to say "We exist!" not just about their survival through a difficult past, but also about the present and the future. Part of that existence, however, is going to be in an increasingly interde-pendent world. If the "We exist!" is for the future, it may mean enlarging the phrase to "We exist together!" The fact that the Lithuanian con-gregations were able to move from relying on their own congre-gations to creating an intercongregational formation committee is a sign that, given time and trust, they have the inner resources to Review for Religious move to a larger "we." The initiation of this intercongregational committee had, in fact, been inspired by the intercongregational nature of the teams of American sisters who had come to work with them. The Lithuanian sisters quickly saw that a larger "we" was not only possible but very rich in its possibilities for a happy sharing of many various gifts. We sisters from the West, on the other hand, need to keep remembering that our "we" is not the only "we" in the world. We need to be willing to look at the fears and suspicions about us. To the extent that they are justified, we need to allow ourselves to be called to conversion of heart and life. To the extent that they are not, we need to live with integrity and truth and to search patiently and mutually for new dance steps. Perhaps it is in our conversion of heart together that the Spirit will lead us all in a new dance of interdependence. Dispossessed Who believing would not hope? the child asked herself, dismantling in one stroke a holy triad. But stay, time-taught. It always does. Faith came easy. She was born believing unseen worlds. ¯ And lo~? Without it, there'd be chaos. As for hope? That limpid bird fled, sickened with the weight of errant expectation-- until finally the woman lay down and cried and cried and cried and cried-- while faith and love held hands and waited. Maryanne Casey Hannan .Tanaa~y-Febtvtao, 1999 ANN WHITE Serpents and Doves:, The Company of St. Ursula I n Quebec City, high above the St. Lawrence River, some eligious women live behind a cedar fence in a convent, sup-posedly set apart from the world. Yet the world of New France, as it existed nearly four hundred years ago, comes to them every single day in the persons of innumerable Amerindians. Who could possibly tell where these women's religious life leaves off and worldly life begins? We divide life into the sacred and the secular, and have done so since the 16th century, when Reformers who thought and prayed under dull northern skies became 'disengaged from the ideas of Renaissance painters and explorers and princes of Europe's sunlit south. Ever since, we have distinguished the worldly--rev-elers and artists and livers of free lifestyles--from religious peo-ple who go to church, pray, do good works. This division blurs the truth about people in both categories, sacrecl and secular. Consider the Company of St. Ursula, a boldly daring 16th-century Roman Catholic women's community. In the Ursulines' lives, religion and worldly adventure mixed inseparably. But Ursulines do not appear in secular books that tell adventure sto-ries. Ursulines show up in books about religion, written in sober words that mask the daring quality of their thoughts and acts. The Ursulines first caught my attention in Quebec City, where their convent has stood in the Rue Donnacona since the 17th century. As I gazed at the convent's faqade, I wondered why Ann White has a Ph.D. in history and teaches at the Edmund Burke School in Washington. Her address is 5130 Connecticut Avenue, N.W., apt. 203; Washington, D.C. 20008. Review for Religious any woman would give up cultivated, comfortable French life for the frigid wilderness of Quebec. My guidebook said the nuns came to found a girls' school. Everyone knows the name of Samuel de Champlain, the explorer who established the first French settle-ment at Quebec City, but how many know the name of the woman who started the first girls' school in the Nev~ World? She was Marie Guyart, member of the Order of St. Ursula, who arrived in Canada from Tours, France, in 1639. Her name fails to appear in books about explorers' and pioneers' adventures because those are "secular" stories. Yet Marie Guyart was a pioneer. Starting a girls' school anywhere in the 17th century was a pioneering act, and starting a school in the New World for girls of warring Amerindian tribes required a large dollop of pioneering bravery. Not only Marie Guyart's physical bravery impressed me, but also her idea of adventuring in unknown spaces. She had never traveled outside the Touraine region of France, yet as she sat in her convent she pictured herself in what she called the "vastitudes" of New France. "My body was in our monastery, but my spirit was tied to that of Jesus and could not be enclosed," she said. What did she know about Canadian vastitudes? Practically noth-ing. She had never heard the word "Canada" until four years before she departed for its frosty landscape. But being enclosed within four walls of a convent in Tours did not prevent her from imagining herself founding "a -house for Jesus and Mary" in an unknown land across a vast ocean. Marie Guyart acquired her expansive, daring cast of mind from her Ursuline company, who inherited it from their founder, Angela Merici. As much a child of the Italian Renaissance as Christopher Columbus, Angela Merici founded the Ursulines just forty-three years after Columbus's first voyage. Columbus, says one of his biographers, combined Christian faith with an impulse toward expansion. We ignore the faith, concentrate on the expan-sion, and place him in our secular category. Angela Merici pos-sessed the same Renaissance combination of faith and expansiveness as Columbus, but we ignore her expansiveness, con-centrate on her faith, and pop her into our religious pigeonhole. Angela Merici did not found the Ursulines until she was in her sixties. A farmer's daughter from northern Italy, she spent years working with a group of lay Christians to relieve misery brought to Brescia, a city near her birthplace, by the French inva-sion of Italy. She helped to organize orphanages and refuges for January-February 1999 White ¯ Serpents and Doves prostitutes, and she worked in a hospital for incurables, the only hospital that would accept Brescia's increasing numbers of syphil-itics. By the time Angela Merici traveled to the Holy Land around age fifty, her skills at helping the sick and the poor were well known--so well known that, when she stopped in Venice on her way home from Palestine, the city fathers asked her to remain there and organize charitfible works in their city. She said no. Furthermore, she left Venice immediately, so that they could not ask the archbishop to command her to stay. Soon afterwards she went to Rome, where once, again there came a request to borrow her skills. This time the pope himself, Clement vii, who asked her to remain and organize charitable works in his city. Surely this was an offer that Angela Merici could not refuse. Any "religious" woman would say yes to the pope, would she not? Angela Merici said no. Her Renaissance mind fit no pigeon-hole. She went back to Brescia to formulate a vision as expansive in its own way as Columbus's vision. Her company of women, named after a 3rd-century patron of young scholars, would be the first Christian company dedicated to instructing young girls. They would also tend the sick. These female teacher-work(rs would live in the world. No medieval convent walls would constrain them; they would freely walk the streets of north Italian cities from Milan to Venice. This Ursuline plan ignored religious/secular categorizing. Though Angela Merici never met her contemporary Martin Luther, her mind grasped the same idea that his mind grasped, a very old Christian idea, that the church's lay people--worldly, sec~ ular people--hear God's call as clearly as the clergy, the church's religious people. Angela Merici created an institution that blended the religious and the worldly. A young woman joining the Company of St. Ursula would pledge herself to virginity, but she would not live in a convent and she would not wear a habit. She would live at home with her family as she taught girls and tended the sick. Before Angela Merici's time, young women faced a stark, secular-versus-sacred choice: they could marry or they could enter a convent. Angela Merici's Ursuline plan gave them another option: pursuing useful work in the world while maintaining a religious identity. Habits of religious pigeonholing make us see Angela Merici, with her piety and good works, as blandly "religious," while we ignore her extraordinary worldly shrewdness. Not only did she Review f!~r Religious have enough sense of her own purpose to spurn a pope's offer, not only did she single-handedly offer devout European young women a new vocational opportunity, but she also obtained a papal decree permitting members of her company to hold a dowry from their families just as securely as if they were marrying or entering a convent. Moreover, her Testament for the Ursulines' four-woman board of directors shows she understood that her young women would face changing circumstances in the future: "If, according to times and needs, new rules should be made, or any change introduced, do it prudently and with good advice." It was with such worldly sagacity that Angela Merici deployed her Christian faith in 16th-century Italy. She shows us what Jesus meant when he told his disciples they needed to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Angela Merici's "religious" accom-plishment is incomprehensible without an understanding of her "secular" insight. ~ As her Ursulines spread throughout northern Italy and into France over the next half century, people with a pigeonholing men-tality-- churchmen, parents of Ursulines, and Ursulines them-selves-- changed the company's organization into something more recognizably religious. When Marie Guyart became an Ursuline in 1631, less than a hundred years after the first Ursulines signed their names in a book in Brescia, she entered a convent and, she donned a habit. The Company of St. Ursula, contrary to Angela Merici's vision, by Marie Guyart's time had become a religious order like other religious orders. Yet even in a convent Marie Guyart shared Angela Merici's expansive Renaissance spirit as she thought about the danger of dying from hunger and cold or at the hands of Canadian savages. These considerations, she said, made "no change at all in the dis-position of my spirit." "Secular" explorers like Champlain were plainly not the only people in 17th-century France who dreamed great, daring dreams. In New France (whose soil she kissed upon her arrival), Marie Guyart continued to live according to the rule of enclosure. She Angela Merici's Ursuline plan gave another option: pursuing useful work in the world while maintaining a religious identity. Januaty-Febt'uaty 1999 lq/'Isite ¯ Serpents and Doves This mixing of sacred and secular in the Canadian convent yard was part of Marie Guyart's theology. and her fellow Ursulines lived in convent buildings set within a large yard on the promontory overlooking the St. Lawrence River. They stayed within the yard's cedar fence, obeying their religious rule about not going out into the "world." But this enclosure was very different from the Tours convent for Marie Guyart: In New France the woodland world came to her: Algonquins, Montagnais, and Hurons; Abenakis, Nipissings, and Attikamegues; Iroquois girls sent by their mothers to learn the elements of the Christian faith. Twenty to fifty young girls lived in a boarding school that the Ursulines established within their convent walls. Amerindian men also visited the convent, for a meal or for instruction or simply to find out what went on there. Marie Guyart wrote, "I see generous and brave captains on their knees at my feet, begging me to have them pray to God before they eat." Moreover, this mixing of sacred and sec-ular in the Canadian convent yard was part of Marie Guyart's theology. She not only wel-comed inhabitants of Canada's woodland world to her convent, but also saw her savage Christian converts as every bit as religious as those labeled religious, the Ursulines and Jesuits in New France. "A savage confesses just as well as a reli-gious," she said. The Jesuits emphasized how hard it was for Amerindian Christians to behave the way they thought Christians should behave; Marie Guyart saw in them the full capacity for Christianity. The converts' devotion, she said, reminded her of the Christians of the early church. So what do these moments of Ursuline history--the lives of Angela Mericiand Marie Guyart--show us? That enclosure in a convent is bad? That the Ursulines-were more progressive than ,other Catholic groups because at first they spurned convent life? By no means. Ursuline history shows us Christian life without religious/secular categories: Angela Merici taking advantage of Renaissance Italy's expansive spirit to create an effective vehicle .for faith; Marie Guyart joining Christ among the Amerindians while living in a convent. Jesus did not say, be a serpent or a dove, choose between the secular and the sacred. He said, achieve worldly wisdom and reli- Review for Religious gious innocence, both at the same time. The famous figures who lived five hundred years ago, at the birth of the modern age, do not fit our narrow classification scheme of religious versus secular. Emperor Charles v was as much a man of faith as he was an effi-cient 16th-century ruler. Martin Luther was as much poet as priest--so much the poet that, in the judgment of one Reformation historian, if he had lived in another age he would have produced an epic rather than a new church. Michelangelo's art fused his awe of human beauty with his awe of the greatness of God. Nonetheless, we are in the habit of relentlessly classifying these people--the "religious" writer, the "secular" politician, the "sec-ular" artist--missing the breadth of their persons and the com-plexity of their accomplishments. Not so rigidly fixed in our minds as these famous figures, Angela Merici and Marie Guyart will fly right out of their religious pigeonhole if we let them. The two Ursulines were wise enough to take advantage of Renaissance Europe's expansive spirit, faith-ful enough to take big risks for Christ. Their lives overmatch our narrow categories of secular and sacred. Each was worldly and religious, both serpent and dove at the very same time. "But you, who do you say that I am?" (Matthew 16:15) Not in wisdoms Echoed from borrowed minds, Nor in quick phrases Caught and snatched and etched On today's tongues, Not even in the warm whispers Patterned on a mother's speech, A teacher's truth, A prophet's cry. Who do you say that I am When only you are left to form the words? When only I am left to listen? Suzanne Mayer IHM JanuaL'F-FebruaO, 1999 XAVIER PLISSART The Art of Discernment: The Aesthetic Dimension In this paper I discuss what I call the aesthetic dimen-sion of the art of discernment. I want to show that dis-cernment is an attempt to enter into the original divine creative dynamism for the whole of creation. This attempt is itself a creative activity aimed at realizing creation's original harmony. Since the whole of creation shares the same source and is directed towards the same goal, discernment should ideally be a striving towards communality. Consequently, a basic and essential qual-ity of discernment is that it should strive to be as com-mon as possible in its insight and process, and as universal as possible in its aim toward action. Theological Foundation Creation The initial insight for spiritual discernment is that God is active in our world, that creation is dynamic. The original goodness that God imparted to creation is more a life than a state: divine life continues to be breathed into the whole of creation. Essentially, discernment is a matter of seeing more accurately where and how this Xavier Plissart M_Mr has done formation work and taught in various African countries. He is currently attached to the Centre de Recherche et de Documentation Africaine. His address is: Bukavu, R~p. D~m. du Congo; B.P. 333, Cyangugu; Rwanda (Africa). Review for Religious divine "inspiration" is operative. The effort to see this depends upon our having the faith conviction that God's creativity in our regard is a genuine invitation to participate in divine life, an invi-tation that recognizes the full validity of creation's "otherness." The faith insight above applies to the totality of creation. Everything created proclaims in some way the fullness of divine life. But the proclamation acquires a special significance when we turn to. humans beings, for it depends upon their receiving an invitation to proclaim God's life and their conscious responding to it. Created in the image of God (imago Dei), we in turn become creative through our free response. We have the imagination (in Hebrew, yetzer) that makes it possible for us to integrate our actions in the flow of divine creativity, or not. Consequently, it is important for us to discern and decide how we shall orient our life and direct our actions. Context and History Divine dynamism has been at work in creation from the begin-ning, and human consciousness, responding in various ways, has shaped our world until the present day. We must, therefore, be fully conscious of the past. Discernment always implies looking back (if we use visual imagery) or listening (if we use acoustic imagery). God's conversation with the world and with humankind results in what we live and experience today. At the most personal level, St. Ignatius Loyola advises retreatants of the Spiritual Exercises to examine regularly the content and flow of their spir-itual life and life of prayer. Many religious persons and commu-nities today have gained great benefit from what is called "life review" to see God at work in their own history. It is also common practice now to try to "read" the "signs of the times" to see the underlying current. Believers find God at work, but unbelievers alike may discover the dynamism of creative energy with which they want to connect. Believing that God has been and is active in the world, we see, too, that we have the creative potential to go with or against this divine activity. In the Spiritual Exercises Ignatius describes in detail how one can become aware of inner movements that are aligned with the divine plan or that militate against it. This takes place in a context of faith and in an atmosphere of prayer. His analysis of consolations and desolations has served as a guide for many. Recently, however, spiritual writers have felt the need to widen the Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment field of application. When we become more keenly aware of all the areas in which the Spirit of God is at work, it becomes evident that we must try to widen our horizon if we want to obtain a more accu-rate idea of God's action, a wiser discernment. Consolations and Desolations Revisited Ignatius himself implicitly recognizes the need for an inter-personal attentiveness to the Spirit when he advises that discern-ment should take place with the guidance of a spiritual director. Today we would include here the validity and even necessity of discussing the matter with one's spouse (if one is married) or a uniquely close "soul friend." An uneasiness in the friend or spouse might be a sign of desolation, and both persons would do well to become aware of it in the effort to find the will of God. Ignatius speaks of taking into account the position of the church. If with Vatican ~I we see the church as the people of God, our attentiveness to God's presence becomes broader and much more varied. Tensions in a community could well be interpreted as "desolation," or gratuitous excitement as false "consolation." We could and should make use of the well-developed techniques of group dynamics and see how a discerning insight might help us to perceive more clearly whether the movements animating a par-ticular group are from God. The vision we speak of here comes from faith; it can be of advantage only to individuals and groups that genuinely want to follow the Lord. Similarly, in discernment we do well to explore critically the meaning of divisions, resentments, estrangements, and insensi-tivity within ecclesial structures and institutions to see how these "motions" speak to us of God's creative or challenging activity in our world. Can we say that controversies on, say, contraception or feminism have nothing.to tell us about the divine activity in our world and in the hearts and minds of God's own people? I believe that an unwillingness to see the significance of such "movements" would represent a dire lack of a discerning spirit. Jon Sobrino, Enrique Dussel, J.B. Libanio, and others have shown clearly how, as we find ourselves confronted with a theol-ogy of domination, we must take into account the sociopolitical reality in order to make a valid discernment. The option for the poor which theologians of liberation advocate is not just another theological position. It is the result of a careful reading of the core message of Jesus in its relationship with the social reality. Review for Religions As the Quakers tell us, the "light of God" is also present and active beyond the confines of the circle of Christian believers. Indeed, this was also recognized in the documents of Vatican II. So we will have to .learn to discern how God speaks through the political debates of our present age, through intercultural struggles, through the economic and ecological issues of our world, and through people's search for a cosmic spirituality. Would we not say that people's uneasi-ness when faced with news ¯ items depicting poverty can be a sign of "desolation" calling for conversion and a change ¯ of heart? Would we not say that people's fear of an atomic disaster can~ be understood as a sign of "desolation" in a world which gives priority to war over peace? Would we not say that the renewed interest and practice of meditation of all kinds is a sign of "consolation" in a rediscovery of the importance of the inner world? The first, step in this reflection has brought us to the conclu-sion that, if we truly believe that God's Spirit. is indeed active in the world and if our aim is to integrate our decisions and actions as perfectly as possibly into this creative dynamism, then we will have to widen considerably the scope of our attentiveness to the divine presence. Our discerning of God's ~vill seems ~to bring us much further than it used to, well beyond the realm of personal spiritual life. No more can we think of attaining holiness through a private imitation of Christ (see Castillo). What we have examined is the first aspect of discernment, the "listening" element. It corresponds to what is called in Ignatian spirituality the "discernment of spirits" and also, in the Quaker tradition, to the simple prayer meeting. The regular practice of such discernment helps people to be more aware of God's pres-ence in their life. But it should also help friends or groups to a vision of where God is leading them communally. It can give us an insight into God's guidance for the church, for society, and indeed for the whole world. Acquiring such a common insight will be of great advantage in tackling the second aspect of discernment which we examine below. Tensions in a community could well be interpreted as "desolation," or gratuitous excitement as false "consolation." January-FebtvtaD, 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment Anthropological Foundation: How Do We Decide? The Point of Entry Insight into the divine activity is not just an academic exercise. We have already indicated above that it has a very clear purpose. We do not "listen" to the voice of God simply to admire its har-monic quality. We want to add our voice to the symphony. Peters clarifies the distinction between discernment and elec-tion, but goes too far when he says that "the method [of election] is a way of finding the will of God, and has nothing to do with dis-cerning movements" (p. 30). Our insight into God's creative activ-ity inevitably challenges us to a response. Thus we seek not only to hear God's voice, but to discern God's will. This becomes a direct call. The general inspiration which we have discerned ini-tially takes shape gradually and becomes a specific invitation. This is where we move from a "discernment of spirits" to a process of election: we are faced with alternatiyes, and we have to make a choice. What is happening is that we become aware of a krisis, a fork in the road. This requires a diakrisis: deciding which way to go. The process of decision is always situated existentially, and it is good, indeed important, to know the path that has led to it, the approach to the point of entry. Ignatian spirituality has clarified the process itself, but has not specified precisely the scope of what to consider. In the Spiritual Exercises lgnatius's guidance in the pro-cess of election seems to be directed mainly to an individual mak-ing a decision about his or her future state of life. But commentators indicate that the principles are not restricted to such instances. Since Ignatius and his companions use similar prin-ciples for many of their decisions, it would seem that the process of election is applicable to all levels of human decision. This is indeed to be expected if we are fully aware of divine invitations at all levels of human activity. So we have to widen the scope here also. The most obvious level of decision making is that of the con-scious self. It concerns an action for which .one will be directly and personally responsible. But not many decisions, if any, are totally private. So the interpersonal is nearly always present in decision making. It is then a decision that affects those who are involved in a relationship, and we would expect that the process of discernment would implicate all participants. Decisions concern-ing close friendship and marriage are good examples of this, and Review for Religious one can widen the scope to community decisions, family deci-sions, and so forth. The moment of decision, the need for discernment, may not be obvious when persons reflect and discern purely as individuals, but may become obvious on the social level and then brought down to the personal. Good examples of this would be an eco-nomic crisis or a population crisis, each with its repercussions on the life of the community, the family, and the individual. Still wider areas of decision may involve cultural changes, religious or institu-tional sclerosis, or natural disasters. These will require decision-making processes that have a wide place of entry, but do not ignore personal elements (which are never absent). In these areas Ren~ Simon's reflection on the relationship between law and discernment is helpful. The process of election will be very different, but the basic elements will be these: insight based on some interpretative belief, examination of the challenge by means of dialogue, and proiection towards the realm of action for assess-ment and choice. With regard to the charismatic role of discern-ment in relation to institutional sclerosis, Ladislaus Boros makes the following interesting remark: "The charismatic and underiv-able aspect is essential to the church, .for God has never retired, as it were, in favor of the official ecclesial administration. Nor has he abdicated in favor of the guidance of the Holy Spirit given to the higher and highest instances of.the church. God himself is the Spirit [see Jn 3:8] blowing 'where it listeth,' [blowing] alike on children and idiots, the poor and simple, and theologians of all kinds" (p. 78). Clearly we are dealing here with a widening continuum. Division into sections is arbitrary. Yet there appear to be both an inner limit to this continuum and an outer one, limits beyond which we seem to lose control. At the inner limit we enter so deeply into the self that the processes become unconscious. The creative dynamism is still active, but escapes our grasp. Eastern religions (Hinduism and Buddhism) and perhaps certain forms of Christian mysticism situate our connection to the absolute at this level. At the outer limit we grope toward the immensity of the cosmos and fail to grasp it. This time it is the far heavens that are beyond us. Within these two limits we can set the realm and scope The interpersonal is nearly always present in decision making. Januaty-Febrnaty 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment of responsible praxis, the point of application of the process of discernment leading to action. The Question of Universality We are now becoming more aware that any discernment in a process of election has repercussions at all levels. Wherever. the stone may fall, it creates ripples over the whole surface of the lake. Decisions involve the same universal creative dynamism, and they have effects that resound through the whole realm of responsible praxis. This would seem to make the task of discernment abso-lutely daunting: What attitude, then, can we take? Many spiritual writers indicate that discernment does not lead to certainty. This is something we must accept at all stages of the process. We try to examine God's creative and dynamic presencefin our life, in the life of others', in our society and culture, in the world as a whole. But our point of view is inevitably limited. We try to take into account the flow of our own life from the moment of birth, or the flow of history in our communal, eccesial, or social context, but we cannot see the whole picture. Then when a prob-lem occurs, when the moment of decision arises, we try to situate ourselves in this picture, to ga~ther all possible data that might be relevant, but we can see only a few elements and have.,to be con-tent with that. We want to listen to as many people as possible because each one can give us a useful insight into the light of God that illurfiines our search, but there is always more light beyond, which we cannot fathom. We do not want to be biased; we want to be "indifferent" and try to avoid undue influences from our own background, from our s6cial or physical environment, and so forth, but we cannot extract ourselves from our own existence. We may try to see the consequences of a certain decision so as to make a better assessment, but we can see only that far, and no further. Clearly we cannot take everything into account. One rather unsatisfactory way in which this problem has usu-ally been solved, at least at the practical level, was to look at the process simply from its point of entry. For instance, if the issue was to decide about my own vocation, I would simply examine what my decision on this should be in the context of my life, and leave other decisions to be made by others, for example, church offi-cials, parents, civil authority, and so forth. Or, if the issue involved natural science--whether, for example, .to continue to develop nuclear technology--scientists would limit themselves to the sci- Revibw for Religious entific possibility and expediency and leave civil rulers to decide on the social consequences. In a sense there may be a vision of faith in such a position. If each person decides validly within his or her restricted level of insight, can we not trust the original cre-ative dynamism to realize the harmony that is its aim? Perhaps. But I believe that the above position has far too often been interpreted in a minimalist way. I believe that it is defeatist and dangerous. I believe that a true vision of faith will require of us that we try to achieve as wide a scope as possible. Therefore, at the close of this paper I would like to advocate a maximalist inter-pretation of the question I raised in the previous paragraph. The Criterion of Harmony Common Discernment Spiritual discernment and discernment in view of making a decision according to the divine will have always been considered an art. This is an implicit acceptance of the tentative value of the conclusions that are reached. But at the same time it points to the totality of impact of any decision within the whole creative flow. Our attentiveness to God's voice in our life and in the world cannot be restrictive. It must always tend to its widest possible scope. Only then can the full impact of divine creativity be recog-nized and accepted. The search for the divine will in any particular instance, and the attempt to discern which course of action would best coincide with that divine will, must situate the process of examination as widely as possible. I emphasize that it is" in the measure in which this is attempted and achieved that the dis-cernment will be a valid one and that global harmony will be fos-tered. Some examples will show this more in detail. A young woman aware of God's presence in her life, believes she is called to serve God in a special way. She enters a process of discernment to find out whether and how she should respond to such an invitation. Clearly, at least three groups will have to be involved in her discernment process to make it valid. First, she will have to consult with family and friends. The decision would Our attentiveness to God's voice in our life and in the world cannot be restrictive. January-February 1999 Plissart ¯ The Art of Discernment change not only her life, but also their relationship with her. Second, the new group she wants to join will have to be part of the discernment too, since the decision means that the group will or will not go through the change of integrating her into their circle. Third, the discernment will involve the church in which the com-mitment would be made, since her decision will occur in that con-text. Traditionally, each group of people would make their own dis-cernment and, if no consensus was reached, the final say would be settled through the exercise of authority. Yet it seems evident that a greater harmony could be achieved if each group would in some way participate in a common process of discernment. The young woman can dialogue with family and friends about her pos-sible vocation. She can dialogue with the new group to see how her decision would affect her and them. Members of the group can meet her family and exchange opinions on the project, church officials could speak with representatives of the group about the decision, and so forth. If each participant is genuinely searching for guidance from above, the. decision-making process itself and the outcome of it will foster harmony among these people. Such coop-eration will witness to divine creativity at work. Another example. A local religious community wants to decide whether to continue its insertion into a depressed urban area or take on another responsibility. Traditionally, they go through a process of discernment as a group while their superiors also con-sider the decision. Though the local church community might be implicated in the decision, it might not be consulted. When groups arrive at opinions separately, tension easily arises if and when sep-arately formed opinions do not coincide. Here again a common discernment process--at various levels according to possibilities-- would undoubtedly foster harmony: Let the local religious group and the local Christian community meet and exchange on the pro-ject. Let superiors come and .discuss the issue with the local reli-gious community. Let all persons in the several groups be given a chance to go through their personal discernment process in dia-logue with each other. Let the local church authorities dialogue with the group of religious and with the local Christian commu-nity, and so forth. Let the participants allow, in each of these encounters, the Spirit of God to illumine their hearts and minds through the contributions of others. Thereby they will witness to. God's creation of, respect for, and empowering of people who Review for Religious have wonderful differences among themselves. In doing so they will certainly create harmony. A final example. A number of homeless people have occupied a derelict building and are now threatened with eviction because the area must be transformed into a recreation ground. The home-less people refuse to leave. Some local pastors support them in the name of the gospel. The local politician is under pres-sure because the potential inv

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