La población mundial, que cuenta dos mil millones de habitantes alrededor del año 1950, ha crecido a un ritmo casi exponencial en las décadas siguientes hasta 4 mil millones y 5,3 en 1990 (Naciones Unidas - Departamento de Asuntos Económicos y Sociales, 2010). Sin duda un gran aumento tanto en términos absolutos cuanto relativos. Según las estimaciones de las Naciones Unidas, la población mundial se estima que alcanzará los ocho millones y medio de 2025. Estas tasas de crecimiento se producen, obviamente, tanto en Europa, donde la población ha crecido de 550 millones en 1950 a 750 millones en 2010, y en Italia, donde en el período 1861 a 2008 hubo un aumento de la población de 22 millones de habitantes a casi 60 millones (fuente: ISTAT, 2010). La población ha crecido, sin embargo, a tasas más altas en los países en desarrollo, con una tendencia a la constante en los países industrializados en las últimas décadas. Dicha población mundial intenso tiene consecuencias directas sobre el territorio urbano, mientras que lleva a una extensión de las actuales áreas urbanas menores y pequeñas ciudades. Todo esto, cada vez más, dar lugar a problemas de gestión y uso del suelo, produciendo un crecimiento del componente de la vulnerabilidad en la ecuación de riesgo. Crecimiento de la población no justifica un aumento de las condiciones hidrogeológicas de la inestabilidad. Si es así, ya que la población se ha convertido en firme en los últimos años, al menos en la mayoría de los países industrializados, no hay que hacer frente a riesgos cada vez mayor. En cambio, el modelo de desarrollo económico, basado principalmente en redes e infraestructuras, así como los asentamientos, por supuesto, produce un doble efecto: un aumento de los activos expuestos a la amenaza, una presión sobre el territorio, capaz de hacer la activación de los fenómenos peligrosos más frecuentes. Los fenómenos naturales también tienen un impacto en el marco socio-económico, ya que son responsables de la pérdida de bienes y servicios y, en ocasiones, una pérdida en términos de vidas humanas. En tal situación, la vulnerabilidad de la zona está relacionado con el desarrollo de su sistema de infraestructura social, civil y urbano. Este concepto se expresa claramente en la declaración "Los desastres ocurren cuando los riesgos se encontra con la vulnerabilidad" (Wisner et al., 2004). Esto nos lleva a considerar los desastres naturales como los fenómenos sociales reales. Cuando se habla de riesgo geomorfologicos y de políticas ambientales, uno de los pioneros es, sin duda, Earl E. Brabb, que ya en 1991 en un artículo titulado "El problema de movimientos de ladera del mundo", sostuvo que los deslizamientos son un problema mundial que cientos causa de muertes y miles de millones de dólares de daño cada año en todo el mundo. Los poblemas geomorfológicos son y serán un tema importante y un requisito fundamental del conocimiento para la política de toma de decisiones. A pesar de 20 años han pasado desde que el trabajo Brabb, la situación no parece haber cambiado. No son aún insuficientes los procedimientos de todo el mundo aunque sólo sea compartida que permite evaluar la calidad y precisión de un inventario de deslizamientos o la forma de clasificar en términos de susceptibilidad a los deslizamientos de un área y para evaluar cuantitativa y cualitativamente el rendimiento predictivo. Las imágenes y escenas de devastación, destrucción y muerte que ocurren cada año, hacen que el problema de los riesgos geomorfológicos en un problema social. ¿Quien es el responsable? Seguimos construyendo, incluso en lugares que no son adecuados para la construcción. Tenemos que admitir por lo menos una doble responsabilidad. Si bien es cierto que los acontecimientos que causar un derrumbe apenas son "previsibles", por el contrario sí podemos identificar y predecir donde estos fenómenos se producen con mayor capacidad destructiva, produciendo más daños y reducir al mínimo la vulnerabilidad. Por lo tanto, si no es posible evitar, ya que no es posible predecir, la palabra clave debe ser "la prevención". Cada vez deslizamientos de tierra u otros eventos con características destructivas y letales, que a menudo se supone y se define como "impredecible", nos ofrece con el escenario de las víctimas, los heridos y desaparecidos, el público se estremece y recuerda la vulnerabilidad de los bienes de la comunidad y direciona la discusión sobre el tema de prevención de los desastres naturales o por lo menos tratar de minimizar las consecuencias trágicas que lo acompañan. La ola emocional que sigue a la fase de emergencia se produce entre las llamadas a "enrollar las mangas" a una "cultura de prevención" que "nunca vuelva a suceder", e induce a los legisladores y los técnicos para intervenir con una variedad de medidas urgentes de mitigación y obras y de intervención inmediata, tal vez proponiendo también las regulaciones y leyes dirigidas a "evitar otro desastre similar". Hoy Saponara, ayer Génova, el día antes Giampilieri y San Fratello y así sucesivamente durante décadas: Salerno (1954) con 318 víctimas, 250 heridos y sin hogar cerca de 5.500, y el Longarone y el desastre de Vajont (1963) con cerca de 2.000 muertes de Agrigento, (1966), Valtellina (1987) 53 muertes y 4.000 millones de liras de los daños, el deslizamiento de tierra en el Val di Stava de julio de 1985 (269 muertos), las corrientes rápidas del 5 de mayo de 1998 y Sarno y Quindici y otras áreas de la región Campania, con 153 muertes, Maierato (2010), son algunos de los eventos más importantes que lleva a más de 4.000 las muertes causadas por movimientos gravitativos en medio siglo, un promedio de 4 muertes por mes, además de un daño económico incalculable. Pero cada día hay una lista de los deslizamientos de tierra, carreteras y puentes bajando, a pesar de que pasa desapercibido. A falta de una cultura de prevención y un aumento de la cultura de emergencia en su lugar. Y la protección civil se ve ahora como la única ancla de salvación y la asistencia de los municipios y la población involucrada. Italia es un País que se desmorona debido a la negligencia del hombre y a la falta de prevención. Hay 5,596 sobre 8,101 municipios en riesgo hidrogeológico, el 84% de los centros de población se define en riesgo. Esto sin duda demuestra que las construcciones se construyeron cuando no se podia. De estos municipios, 1.700 (alrededor del 21%) están en riesgo de deslizamientos, 1.285 (casi el 16%) en riesgo de inundación y 2.596 (32%) se encuentran en una combinación de deslizamientos de tierra y riesgo de inundación. El área total clasificada como de alto riesgo asciende a 36.551 km2 (7,1% del total nacional) dividido en km2 de áreas de deslizamientos de tierra y 7.791 km2 de áreas inundadas 13.760. Estas cifras ponen de relieve la inestabilidad hidrogeológica con el que cada región debe enfrentar, tarde o temprano, contra la cual el flujo de millones de euros, a menudo sólo le prometió, no servirá de mucho para la estabilización y obras de medida de seguridad. El informe de Legambiente revela que los municipios son la punta de lanza de una evidente debilidad de nuestro territorio. No hay una única manera de preparar los mapas de susceptibilidad, como lo demuestra la enorme cantidad de artículos científicos producidos incluso durante la última década, y lo mismo es cierto en cuanto a la zonificación de los peligros y los riesgos involucrados, todavía sigue siendo un problema sin resolver en gran medida (Carrara et al., 2009). La contribución de este trabajo las siguientes fases de un estudio con el fin de definir la estructura de la sensibilidad, los riesgos y peligros de un área: 1. Construcción de la base de datos: en este trabajo las diferentes técnicas y métodos de detección de deslizamiento de tierra y delimitación se comparan directamente (trabajo de campo) e indirectamente (fotografías aéreas, software de visualización remota del territorio) y su posterior despliegue en un sistema GIS. 2 Elección y definición de la escala de análisis: De hecho, uno de los problemas más actuales de la proposición se relaciona con los métodos de evaluación de susceptibilidad a escala múltiple. 3 Unidades cartográficas: las diferentes unidades se utilizan para la cartografía y zonificación del territorio, cuya previsión de resultados se comparan con el fin de ser capaces de identificar las unidades de la asignación básica más adecuada para la planificación y para fines de defensa civil, teniendo en cuenta la exactitud científica de que la modelo debe soportar. 4 Elección de los factores control: en el trabajo, es la posibilidad de identificar el conjunto más probable de los factores que se consideran relacionados directamente o indirectamente a la inestabilidad de la ladera. Se proponen procedimientos de prueba y seleccionar el conjunto de posibles factores de control, así como la construcción de modelos específicos para cada tipo de deslizamientos. 5 Construcción de modelos: como para la construcción de un modelo geo-estadístico, las soluciones se comparan diferentes y el modelo de presentación de los mismos resultados y la objetividad que se elija, teniendo en cuenta que las necesidades de una implementación más bajo en términos de costo y tiempo. 6 Validación: los modelos están sujetos a diferentes técnicas de validación, que luego se comparan entre ellos. 7 Exportación espacial de un modelo de susceptibilidad: este es un ensayo para definir y validar los términos de susceptibilidad a los deslizamientos de una amplia zona en los gustos de cientos o miles de kilómetros cuadrados, en base a los estudios de detalle de algunos sectores que lo representan. Al igual que muchos otros autores, con el propósito de este trabajo es hacer una contribución a la comunidad científica, tratando de ofrecer una modesta contribución en la solución de algunos problemas en este campo a través de experimentos y modelos realizados en una variedad de contextos y comparar los resultados entre ellos. En este sentido, unas pruebas se llevaron a cabo en algunas áreas, previamente seleccionadas, será probado y verificado el resultado de algunos de los procedimientos en los años de investigación doctoral. A continuación, un resumen de los resultados vendrán de estas pruebas experimentales TEST 1a: TUMMARRANO river basin: Model Exportation En el marco de un estudio de la susceptibilidad de deslizamientos regional en el sur de Sicilia, una prueba se ha realizado en la cuenca del río Tumarrano (unos 80 km2) tiene como objetivo caracterizar las condiciones de su susceptibilidad movimientos de ladera mediante la exportación de un modelo, definido y entrenado en el interior un número limitado (unos 20 km2) representativas del sector ("el área de origen''). Además, la posibilidad de explotar software de Google Earth y el banco de datos de fotos para producir imágenes de los archivos deslizamiento de tierra ha sido comprobado. El modelo de susceptibilidad se define, de acuerdo con un enfoque multifactorial basadas en el análisis condicional, con unidades únicas condiciones (UCUs), los cuales fueron obtenidos mediante la combinación de cuatro factores seleccionados control: litología afloramiento, la pendiente, la curvatura del plan y el índice de humedad topográfica. La capacidad de predicción del modelo de exportación, formado con 206 deslizamientos de tierra, se compara con la estimada para toda el área estudiada, mediante el uso de un archivo completo de deslizamiento de tierra (703 deslizamientos de tierra), para ver hasta qué punto el mayor tiempo/dinero necesario se tienen en cuenta los costos para. TEST 1b. Tummarrano river basin: modelo de susceptibilidad basado en la Forward logistic regression La regresión logística con pasòs hacia adelante, nos ha permitido obtener un modelo de susceptibilidad por los flujos de tierra en la cuenca del río Tumarrano, que se definió mediante el modelado de las relaciones estadísticas entre un archivo de eventos 760 y un conjunto de 20 variables predictoras. Para cada movimiento del inventario, un punto de identificación de deslizamientos (LIP) se produce de forma automática, como corresponde al punto más alto a lo largo de la frontera de los polígonos de deslizamientos de tierra. Los modelos equilibrados (760 stable/760 inestable) se presentaron a adelante el procedimiento de regresión logística. Una estrategia de construcción del modelo se aplicó para ampliar la zona considerada en la preparación del modelo y para comprobar la sensibilidad de los modelos de regresión con respecto a los lugares específicos de las células se considera estable. Un conjunto de dieciséis modelos se preparó de forma aleatoria extraer los subconjuntos diferentes céldas estables. Los modelos fueron sometidos a regresión logística y validado. Los resultados mostraron que las tasas de error satisfactoria y estable (0,236 en promedio, con una desviación estándar de 0,007) y AUC (0.839, para la formación, y 0.817, para conjuntos de datos de prueba). Como en relación a los predictores, la pendiente en el barrio de las células y la curvatura topográfica de gran perfil y plan local-fueron seleccionados de forma sistemática. Litología arcillosa afloramiento, drenajes midslope, crestas locales y midslope y los accidentes geográficos cañones eran también muy frecuentes (de 8 a 15 veces) en los modelos de la selección hacia adelante. La estrategia de construcción del modelo nos ha permitido producir un modelo de flujo de tierra realizando la susceptibilidad, cuyo modelo de ajuste, la predicción de la habilidad y solidez se estimaron sobre la base de los procedimientos de validación. Test 2. Imera river basin: modelo de susceptibilidad por flujo de tierra basado en las unidades de ladera. Un mapa de susceptibilidad de un área, que es representativa en términos de marco geológico y los fenómenos de inestabilidad de ladera de grandes sectores de los Apeninos de Sicilia, fue producida usando unidades de ladera y un modelo multiparamétrico univariado. La zona de estudio, que se extiende por aproximadamente 90 km2, fue dividida en 774 unidades de la pendiente, cuya ocurrencia esperada avalancha se estimó un promedio de siete valores de vulnerabilidad, determinado para el control de los factores seleccionados: litología, pendiente media del gradiente, SPI en el pie, el índice de humedad topográfica y la curvatura del perfil, y el rango de altitud. Cada uno de los reconocidos 490 deslizamientos de tierra estuvo representada por su punto de centro de gravedad. Sobre la base de análisis condicional, la función de la susceptibilidad aquí adoptada es la densidad, calculado para cada clase. Modelos univariante fueron preparados para cada uno de los factores que controlan, y su rendimiento predictivo se estimó por curvas de tipos de predicción y la relación de efectividad aplicada a la categorías de vulnerabilidad. Este procedimiento nos permitió discriminar entre factores efectivos y no efectivos, de modo que sólo la primera se combinó posteriormente en un modelo multiparamétrico, que fue utilizada para producir el mapa de susceptibilidad final. la validación de este último mapa nos permite comprobar el rendimiento y la fiabilidad de la predicción modelo. Los principales factores reguladores resultaron: la litología y, subordinadamente, el SPI a el pies de la unidad, y tambien el gradiente medio de la pendiente, la curvatura del perfil, y el índice de humedad topográfica dieron resultados satisfactorios. ; The World population, which counted two billion inhabitants around 1950, has grown at an almost exponential rate in the following decades up to four billion in 1980 and 5,3 in 1990 (United Nations – Department of Economic and Social Affairs, 2010). Definitely a high increase both in absolute and relative terms. According to estimates by the United Nations, the World population is estimated to reach eight billion and a half around 2025 (Chart 1.1), and then it will become steady around ten billion in 2050 because of the expected decline in fertility. These growing rates occur, obviously, both in Europe, where population has grown from 550 million in 1950 to 750 million in 2010, and in Italy, where in the period from 1861 to 2008 there was a surge in population from 22 million inhabitants to almost 60 million, (source: ISTAT, 2010). The population has grown, however, at higher rates in developing Countries (Fig. 1.1), with a tendency to become steady in industrialized Countries in the last decades. Such an intense world population has direct consequences on urban territory while leading to a spread of current minor urban areas and small towns. All this will, increasingly, result in management and land use problems, producing a growth of the vulnerability component in the risk equation. Population growth alone does not justify an increase of hydro-geological conditions of instability. If so, since the population has become steady in recent years, at least in most industrialized countries, we should not face increasing risks. Instead, the economic development model, largely based on networks and infrastructures, as well as settlements of course, produces a double effect: an increase of assets exposed to threat; a stress on the territory, able to make the activation of hazardous phenomena more frequently. It is however true that recent disasters with great loss of lives (i.e., Sarno Giampilieri, Aulla, Genova and Saponara) are actually the results of the response (letting nature take its course) to the changes in territorial asset occurred after the war. Another cause may be found in environmental changes: when the stress regime in a region changes (such as extraordinary rainfall intensity), the response is obviously new for both sides/slopes and the population. The WWF notes that from 1956 to 2001, urbanized areas in Italy have increased by 500 times and it is estimated that from 1990 to 2005 we have transformed 3.5 million hectares of land. The problem of interaction between humans and the natural environment is a very complex and diversified issue, not often approached in a systematic way, also because of the severe limitations of sources to be invested on research on a medium and long-term, for a better and effective knowledge of the environment, primarily on measures aimed at reducing risk (Plattner, 2005). Natural phenomena also have an impact within the social-economic framework as they are responsible for the loss of goods and services, and sometimes, a loss in terms of lives. In such a situation, the vulnerability of the area is related to the development of its social, civil, and urban infrastructural system. This concept is well expressed in the statement "disasters occur when hazards meet vulnerability" (Wisner et al., 2004). This leads us to consider natural disasters as real social phenomena. This condition is strongly valid especially with regard to landslides (Brabb and Harrod, 1989; Brabb, 1991). Since economic problems common to all countries do not allow either to invest in research projects on a medium and long-term or the stabilization of structures or areas on a large-scale, a new philosophy of environmental policy opens up for all active political and administrative subjects that should govern the use and exploitation of the territory. For this reason, the scientific community is engaged in a continuous search for methods and techniques to estimate the degree of real and potential instability, using the minimum amount of equipment and possible economic resources. Usually there is a substantial difficulty in identifying the most reliable procedures, that allow to approach this matter in a non-traditional manner based on modeling and investigative techniques built on the exchange of experiences between experts and conducting studies and experiments on all continents, and showing different strategies and possible technical combinations depending on the type and/or the number and complexity of the investigation, producing susceptibility, hazard and risk maps, used as the basis for decision-making processes in land management. In this framework, further efforts are needed in trying to make the different methods more objective and shared by all in order to be simple and reproducible, and most of all in transferring the knowledge gained in laws that underpin territorial planning, building regulations, and in civil defense plans (Guzzetti, 2006). When discussing about landslides and environmental policies, one of the pioneers is undoubtedly Earl E. Brabb, who already in 1991 in a paper entitled "The World Landslide Problem", sustained that landslides are a worldwide problem that cause hundreds of deaths and billions of dollars of damage every year all over the world. The same added that these losses can be reduced if the problem is identified and acknowledged in time, but many countries are simply equipped with maps showing where landslides produced problems in the past and they have even less susceptibility maps that could allow policy makers control land use. Landslides, adds Brabb, are generally more predictable and controllable than other natural events of catastrophic nature such as earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and storms, but despite this, few countries have taken advantage of this knowledge to reduce landslide hazard. Geomorphological problems are and will be an important issue and a fundamental requirement of knowledge for the politics of decision-making. Although 20 years have gone by since Brabb's work, the situation does not seem to have changed. There are still insufficient globally shared procedures even just allowing to assess the quality and accuracy of a landslide inventory or how to classify in terms of landslide susceptibility of an area and to evaluate quantitatively and qualitatively predictive performance. 1.2 Basic concepts One of the most obvious effects of rapid territory development in the past decades is the increasing impact that natural disasters have on man and his activities. Institutions are therefore committed to investing their resources in both the implementation of structural interventions to mitigate the risk as well as implementation of early warning systems and defining guidelines for land management; the latter activities allow, in fact, to avoid or minimize damage to persons and property, produced by natural phenomena, without necessarily investing in expensive resources and long structural interventions. The term "risk" is used in relation to the various components of the social and territorial fabric, as an expression of the expected consequences in the assets as a result of this disastrous phenomenon of assigned intensity at a given time interval. Within the guidelines for the preparation of prevention and management plans in terms of geological risk of the Sicilian Civil Protection Service (Regional Hydro-geological and Environmental Risks department), the term Hydro-geological Risk means the effect on different parts of the territory led by natural disasters such as landslides (geomorphological risk) and floods (hydraulic risks) triggered by events related to climate and its changes. Two main components contribute to the definition of risk: territorial hazard (geomorphological and hydraulic) and vulnerability. The latter depends on both the physical resistance of structures or assets exposed to the threat and the so-called vulnerability of social organization, which is linked, in fact, to the capacity of disaster prevention and management that a community has developed prior to the same disaster. The propensity of a territory to be affected by new landslides, the degree of hazard or risk that characterizes it, are usually expressed with the help of a map in which the area is divided into different zones according to the different values that qualify it. In this mapping, the territory is zoned or divided into homogeneous zones or user-defined fields/areas, whose ranking is defined according to their real or potential degree of landslide hazard (Varnes, 1984). Over the decades, many research groups and national and international commissions have tried to provide precise definitions, trying to reduce the existing confusion of terms in the management of natural hazards. In this section, some basic concepts are expressed as well as the terminology that will be used in the thesis below. Landslide events that develop in a given area involve a large number of environmental variables, to determine undoubted difficulties in identifying a suitable action of management, control and planning. In order to do so, understanding the problem without having a clear conceptual framework and method to be used may not be sufficient. The "forecast" of the phenomena and therefore the modeling phase is always required to designated public administration bodies and territorial control, carried out by the creation of digital simulation models which become crucial at the time when decisions must be taken/made. The creation of maps indicating the different vocation planning of an area, based for example on landslide hazard maps, not only allows you to compose the scene of the incident consequences of a given failure, but also to react under emergency, if magnitude, area, and associated potential damage are known. Planning is a subject which studies and regulates the processes of local governance and to evaluate the resulting dynamics of evolution and development. The principles guiding the choice of planning require development policies coherent with the principles of environmental protection and sustainability in an effort to control the excessive human presence, able to transform irreversibly natural systems and preserve the quality of life for future generations. Information, territorial knowledge and assessment of its natural predisposition and vulnerability are the basis of planning. These forms of knowledge and the use and application of the best technologies available to facilitate information processing and optimization of procedures for evaluation and zoning of the territory, will yield the best design solutions to achieve the desired objectives. Planning is aimed to government land use and management of spatial information, and is achieved by regulating the area according to different uses, which should be awarded taking into account the natural predispositions. Planning activities can affect a large portion of territory, in other words include a supra-municipal area or one that does not match with administrative boundaries (e.g. Provincial Territorial Coordination Plan, Hydro-geological Plan) or urban (e.g. General Regulation Plan). The geological, geomorphological, hydro-geological and seismic component should be placed at the base of the strategic development of the territory. In national legislation, water management is understood both as a natural resource but also as an element of risk, and has been regulated at the watershed level since the nineties (national framework law 183/89 on soil protection). This allow us to overcome divisions and inconsistencies produced by the adoption of targeted areas having only administrative boundaries that, therefore, do not take into account natural dynamics. The zoning of landslide hazard area is considered the most effective level of knowledge for territorial planning and territorial governance purposes. A map showing portions of an area classified as "hazardous" is of great importance due to the fact that these areas are subject to limitations and constraints that also affect the usability or simply the economic value. 1.2.1 Landslides and soil protection Italy, besides having a territory particularly prone to heavily collapse, has a highly populated territory with a density of 189 inhabitants per km2, much higher than France (114 inhabitants/km2) and Spain (89 inhabitants/km2), in Lombardy and Campania respectively, the density changes to 379 and 420 inhabitants per km2. As clear from the Report on landslides in Italy (National Geological Survey, 2007), commissioned by the ISPRA (National Institute for Environmental Protection and Research), in the last 50 years almost 500 thousand landslides have been recognized and recorded for an area of about 20 thousand km2, corresponding to 6.6% of the entire national territory. These data should be updated. As indicated by the last study conducted by the Ministry of the Environment (2010), 9.8% of the national area is to be ranked highly hydro-geological critical and 6.633 municipalities are involved, representing 81.9 percent of the national territory. This value, according to a report EURISPES ( Report Italy, 2010) is "largely underestimated", therefore agreeing that "a reliable estimate is made up of about 2 million phenomena and consequently the percentage of the Italian territory subject to ongoing phenomena is more than 20%." The Ministry of Environment, through the work for the realization of development plans undertaken by the hydrogeological Basin Authority, estimated a funding requirement of almost 40 billion euros to hydro-geologically secure the entire country, and 4.1 billion for more urgent works. Undoubtedly, the amounts are considerably high, but it is enough to consider that almost 21 billion euros were spent just to stanch the damages by hydro-geological disasters occurred in the decade 1994-2004. 1.3 Aims and scientific contribution There is no single way to prepare susceptibility maps, as evidenced by the enormous amount of scientific papers produced even during the last decade, and the same is true as for the zoning of the hazard and risk involved, still remaining a largely unsolved problem (Carrara et al., 2009). The contribution of this paper the following phases of a study in order to define the susceptibility structure, hazard and risk of an area. 1 Construction of the landslide database: in this work different techniques and methods of landslide detection and delimitation are compared, directly (field work) and indirectly (aerial photographs, remote viewing software of the territory) and their subsequent deployment in a GIS system. 2 Choice and definition of the analysis scale: the problem of scale models of susceptibility is approached. In fact, one of the most actual problems of the proposition is related to approaches to multi-scale susceptibility evaluation. 3 Mapping units: different units are used for mapping and zoning of the territory, whose foresight results are compared in order to be able to identify the basic mapping units most suitable for planning and for civil defense purposes, taking into account the scientific accuracy that the model must bear. 4 Choice of controlling factors: during the work, it is the possible to identify the most probable set of factors considered to be directly or indirectly related to the instability of the slope. Procedures for testing and selecting the set of possible controlling factors are proposed as well as the construction of specific models for each type of landslide. 5 Model building: as for the construction of a geo-statistical model, different solutions are compared and the model presenting the same results and objectivity is chosen, considering it needs a lower implementation in terms of cost and time. 6 Validation: models are subject to different validation techniques, which are then compared to each other. 7 Spatial exporting of a landslide susceptibility model: this is a trial to define and validate the terms of landslide susceptibility for a wide area in the likes of hundreds or thousands of square kilometers, based on studies of some fields that represent it. Having clear that the result of this type of study is intended to provide maps that can be used by planners in a useful manner, these must be characterized by an immediacy in understanding even by non-experts and they must also be easy to read and interpret. Therefore, these methods should be as simple as possible, for example, susceptibility levels must be clearly expressed not only in quantitative but also in descriptive terms (Clerici et al., 2010). Like many other authors, the purpose of this work is to make a contribution to the scientific community by trying to offer a modest contribution in solving some problems in this field through experiments and modeling carried out in a range of contexts and comparing the results between them.
Issue 30.5 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Dledertch, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw FOR I~LIOXOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 3~21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 191o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW VOR RELIC;IOUS. Published for Review for Religious at .Mr. Royal & Guilford Ave., Baltimore, Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, .Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A, and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years: other countries: $7.00 a year, $)3.00 ~or )wo years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S,A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW Fog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 5 EDWARD J. FARRELL The Journal--A Way into Prayer If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent If the unheard, unspoken Word is unspoken, unheard; Still is the unspoken woriJ, the Word unheard, The Word without a word, the Word within the world and for the world; and the light shone in darkness and against the Word the unstilled world still whirled about the centre of the silent Word --Ash Wednesday, T. S. Eliot. Prayer is a hunger, a hunger that is not easily quieted. Today the cry, "Teach us to pray," echoes and reverber-ates from many directions. One of the ways I have learned to pray is by writing. I began by copying favorite passages from reading, then thoughts and ideas of others and fi-nally came to jotting down my own insights and reflec-tions from the prayer and experiences of each day. This prayer journal at times seems like my own biography of Christ, a kind of Fifth Gospel. Writing makes me think of the Evangelists' experience. Why and how did Mat-thew, Mark, Luke, and John begin their writing? What happened in them? What kind of grace was affecting them? Certainly their experience in writing was a prayer, an entering into the mind and heart of Christ. I wonder if the evangelists' experience is not to be a more common experience for many Christians. We know that God has expressed Himself in a unique and privileged way in Scripture, and yet He continues to reveal Himself and ourselves to us in the events of our ~everyday life. His written word is fresh born each morn-ing and He appeals to us: "Harden not your hearts this day as your fathers did in the desert" (Ps 95). We dare to ask Him each day: "Give us this day our daily bread," knowing that it is not by bread alone that man lives but by every word that comes from the mouth of God. The Father continues to communicate to each of us through E. J. Farrell is a faculty member of Sacred Heart Semi-nary; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit, Michigan 48206, VOLUME 30, 751 ÷ ÷ E. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the Spirit of His Son, "for the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God. After all, the depths of a man can only be known by his own spirit, not by any other man; and in the same way the depths of God can only be known by the Spirit of God. Now instead of the spirit of the world, we have received the Spirit that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (1 Cot 2:10-2). Rahner somewhere writes: "There are things which theologians try to explain. The Lord has other means of making them understood." Christ speaks to us each in a unique way. I think and pray and speak to Him in a way no one else has ever spoken to Him. He speaks to me in a way that He has spoken to no one else. Moments of depth and rare in-sight, of meeting with God, the sacred, are to be treasured and pondered within the heart. What photography is to the visual, writing is to the intuitive and moment of light. Paul wrote: "If you read my words, you will have some idea of the depths that I see in the mystery of Christ (Eph 3:4). Writing enables us to see into the depths. It is not a simple recording of thoughts already finished; it is crea-tive in its very activity and process. Writing is a journey, exploring the countries of the mind and heart, the never ending revelatory Word spoken once for all time. Little attention has been given to the value of writing as a way into prayer, an openness to contemplation, as a celebra-tion and remembering, as discovery, as centering. Deep calls to deep and the deep conscious level responding to the deep, not yet conscious reality of our being. In the beginning was the Word and He had to become incar- Ilate. There is I hope something of the Evangelists' grace for each of us, the grace of writing, of incarnating, infleshing the word in our self and imprinting it and making it our word. None of the Evangelists were "writers" in the pro-fessional sense; yet their writings were a deep communi-cation with God, with themselves, with others. Our Lord frequently asked His listeners: "What do you think?" He constantly compels us to think, to contemplate! How sad it is that so often we lose our capacity for truth, for depth; numbness, overload fuses out and shortcircuits our perceptive facuhies. Writing creates an opening in the stream of uncon-" sciousness and breaks up the automatic pattern of our life. One awakes to the newness that comes so unexpected each day. Our eyes see differently as through the wonder of a new camera. One becomes aware that ihis is the only moment like this that I shall ever have. The first con-scious thought of the day becomes an exciting experi- ence. As a person writes he begins to recognize an extraor-dinary relation between the hand as it writes and the mind and heart, like an ignition. What is written is not as significant as what happens to us in the process. Some-thing is growing within; hidden capacity gently reveals itself. New sensitivities unfold. The horizon sweeps back, the veil lifts, and we experience Emmaus: "Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us and explained the scripture to us" (Lk 24:32). Rollo May describes creativity as "the encounter of the intensely conscious human being with his world." Writing is an experience of creativity immediately availa-ble to everyone: "To write one has but to begin, to take the risk, to take it seriously enough to play with it, for it is by walking that one creates the path." It is so easy to live outside of ourselves, to be unaware of the inner center, the inner dialogue, the inner journey. But once a man begins, he experiences the' thrill of his own unique thoughts and insights. He begins to descern his own words from the borrowed words of others. What an ac-celeration to discover the "hidden manna" and He who gives him "a white stone, with a new name written on the stone which no one knows except him who receives it" (Rev 2:17). T. S. Eliot expresses it so simply: With the drawing of this Love and the Voice of this Calling We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Writing is a way into what is going on and developing within ourselves. It can become a powerful way of prayer, a key to self-understanding and inner dialogue. The power in writing stimulates the very inner process that it is engaged in describing, drawing the process further inward. It is not a passive retelling of events, or a de-scribing of an experience. It becomes one's own experi-ence. Nor is it a self-conscious analytical introspection. Expressing oneself in words is rather an active and con-tinuing involvement in a personal inner process through which one is drawn into an expanded understanding of the reality in his own existence. For example, most peo-ple pray the Our Father every day. One can hear Christ's words and then suddenly hear what his own heart is saying: "Hallowed by my name, my kingdom come, my will be done." This inbreaking of understanding can be-come just another forgotten inspiration and lost grace or by getting it down it becomes specific, focused, and deci-sive. If one writes regularly, no matter how briefly, a con-scious thought, insighL prayer, reflection,he will find that 4- + + The Journal VOLUME ~0, 1971 753 ÷ ÷ ÷ E. J. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "/54 it becomes a cumulative enrichment. It is tuning into what is going on, seeing the connection and relationship, capturing that which is behind the consciousness. Writing and contemplation tend to merge. We know the saints best who found themselves compelled to write---Augus-tine, Bernard, Catherine, Teresa, and our own contem-poraries John XXIII's Journal of a Soul, Dag Hammar-skjold's Markings. In this day of so much glib talk, when we are daily inundated and assaulted with unending words and speech, when everyone is correspondingly articulate on every-thing, the written personal word is increasingly impor-tant. Such words come out of silence and expand silence. They reestablish privacy so rare today, and a comfortable sense of solitude. They beget the dialogue between one's known self and one's deeper, unknown self that is coming into being. One begins to hear the wordless dialogue be-tween one's deepest sel{ and God. Christ taught His Dis-ciples through the deep questions--"Who do you say I am? . Do you love me? . What do you think?" We can-not but respond to His questions and imperatives with our own questions and responses: "Is it I, Lord? W.here do you live?" As never before, each of us has to personalize our faith; we must initial it with our own name and make it ours. We must be able to give reason for the faith that is within us. People do not ask about the formal teachings of the Church. They want to know your experience, what you think, what difference does Jesus make. Here are some of the questions that I. have been asked and that I write about in order that I may be ready to speak His word in me for others: "How do you pray? . Who is Jesus for me?.When do you believe? .W. hen do you love?" "How? .When have you experienced penance? .W. hat difference does the Eucharist make in you? . What do you expect of you? .How does your vineyard grow?" "What is your charism? .W. hat is your sin? .W. hat would it take for you to be a saint now? . What is Jesus asking of you today? . What effect are you making on your world?" These questions demand thinking; they demand contemplation. Answering the questions in spoken words may avoid the implications of their personal meaning. Thinking is so diffused, unformulated, scattered, easily distracted. To write an answer for one's self is to drive deep; it disciplines, focuses, and brings one to face Christ with his conviction. A journal is a journey--the journey of today--both words are from the French word "le jour"--today. The journal is the coming into possession of life this day in the written word, capturing its secret, its mystery. The written word is perhaps more like a kiss than a possessing as in the words of Blake: He who bends to himself a joy Doth the winged life destroy But he who kisses the joy as it flies Loves in Eternity's sunrise. The journal calls for honesty, for a search into meet-ing. It is a discipline in a day when discipline is rare: "But it is a narrow gate and a hard road that leads to life, and only a few find it" (Mt 7:14). Time set aside to move from the outer to the inner, to discover new depths, to see new connections, to perceive fresh insight--surely this work is prayer. It is at times unselfconscious poetry and contemporary psalmody. The journal is a putting into words the praise of God that leaps from the transparencies of life which the light of faith illumines for us. Each of us has our own nnique psalms; the journal helps us to find the words which in turn we share with those He sends to us. Each must honor the desire to express one-self or not. Every person has his own inner rhythm, and each must have his own way of getting to it. Writing Together When people come together and are silent, something in addition becomes present: "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them" (Mt 18:20). As a group turns their focus from outside to inside, to a level of depth, something else be-comes present and makes other kinds of experiences pos-sible. This contact with ourselves would not happen by oneself. A cumulative atmosphere of depth allows us to come to new depth within ourselves. One of the more fruitful group prayer experience that I have worked with is using a three-hour block of time. A gronp of six to ten sit in a small circle in the presence of the Eucharist or with the open Scripture and lighted candle, in the center. The first hour is a prayer of adoration, of silent witness to the Presence in the presence of each other. This hour is an experience of silence and hiddenness with the Father: "You are dead and your life is hidden with Christ in God." The second hour is the hour of writingmthe quantum leaps from nothingness into creation--the power of a word pulling many things into understand-ing. Out of the silence the word comes forth. A field of energy is generated by the concentration of the others around oneself, and one is supported by the current of their efforts. The hour of writing is more than a remem-bering the hour in silence. It is an unfolding experience in itself that carries new dimensions of perception with it. The third hour is one of sharing, of speaking the word 4- + + The .lournal 755 to one another. The sharing is at a depth level because of the common experience of the previous two hours--it is no longer an exchange of words and ideas, it is a meeting of persons. In some dim way these three hours are a Trinity experience--the Father in the hour of silence, the Son in the hour of writing, and the Holy Spirit in the hour of sharing. God speaks! We are compelled to etch Him upon our hearts in writing; and then we are ready to bear witness unafraid and we dare to say with Paul: "If you read my words, you will have some idea of the depths that I see in the mystery of Christ" (Eph 3:4). EDWARD HAYES, O.C.S.O. Probings into Prayer One of the purposes of transactional analysis is to liber-ate people from unheahhy negative feelings about them-selves and others. To do this, one endeavors to evoke the same original sitnation wherein the "child" made a feel-ing decision from the experience. Once the original expe-rience is evoked, one has to re-decide, perhaps years later, at a feeling level, to liberate oneself from sulzh unhealthy negative feelings. In short, one has to return to the origi-nal injunction and re-decid~ on a feeling level. It is al-most a cliche in some circles: go back to childhood, to one's origin in order to understand one's present situa-tion better. ,'1 Wider Concept o[ Prayer To better nnderstand prayer it is also beneficial to return to its origins.1 St. John tells us: "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was toward God and the Word was God" (Jn 1;I). The Word was "toward God" sounds strange. We usually translate it by "with God," "near God," changing the meaning of the Greek, "pros theon." " The evangelist wants to express a mystery that our translation ought to respect. "Toward God" implies relationship, motion. From eternity the Word was turned toward the Father, the Word's Personality, His divine gaze, was totally addressing the Father--a Thou. An un-ceasing movement drew the Word toward the Father. Prayer is a movement toward Another, a responding rela-tionship. St. John, in describing the origin of prayer, is telling us something of great import: to become fully conscious you need only to look with love on another-- on a "Thou." And this is what the Word does from all eternity--turning totally toward His Father. Prayer de-scribed as this means it is relational, a moving toward Another. Responding to my life situation is a "moving 1Jean Galot, s.J., La pri~re (Bruges: Desclfie de Brouwer, 1965); throughout this article I am indebted to this hook. '~ I. de La Potterie, "De interpunctione et interpretatione versuum Job. 1:3, 4, I1," Verbum Domini, v. 33 (1955), pp. 193-208. 4- Edward Hayes is a staff member of the House of Prayer at Durward's Glen; RR 2, Box 220; Baraboo, Wisconsin 53913. VOLUME 30, 1971 757 4. 4. °4. Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS toward the Father," is prayer, is an earthly embodiment of the Eternal Word's incessant prayer. In this sense of prayer as a "pros theon" movement, prayer is as wide as life. Saying yes to the summons in one's daily circum-stances is a "pros theon" movement, is saying yes to ulti-mate Responsibility, God Himself. In this way man is again and again opening himsel[ to the summons availa-ble in his life, seeking to respond to it with courage and generosity. Although not in a specifically religious exer-cise, not even with a supernatural intention, man, in answering the appeals in his daily secular experiences, is moving toward the Fathei', is at prayer. Formal prayer, then, simply clarifies and intensifies the moving toward the Father wherever people try to become more truly themselves. Another example o[ this wider concept o[ prayer as a movement toward, as a dynamic thrust toward Another, is at the end o[ the prologue. "No one has ever seen God, it is the only Son who is into the bosom o[ the Father, he it is who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). Verse 1 and verse 18 together make an inclusion to the prologue. The prologue begins and ends with the Word's (Son's) dy-namic movement into the Godhead. Here in verse 18, "eis ton kolpon," literally, "into the Father's bosom," is trans-lated like its counterpart in verse 1. Translations hesitate to express the original and prefer, "He who is in the bosom of the Father." Ke.eping the awkward translation makes evident the expression of movement, "into the bosom of the Father." Here is a dynamic thrust, a vital relationship of the Son toward the Father. From eternity, the authentic core of His Person is addressed and called forth in filial love. True prayer is being summoned and responding, a reality as wide as life itself. Beyond Professionalism It has been pointed out to us that many in pastoral care take special training because of their need to be more skillful in their pastoral relationships,z The increas-ing number of pastoral training centers witnesses to the great desire to find an answer to the "how-to-do-it" ques-tion. How to relate to hippies, to young radicals, to stu-dents, to those in crises. Those in pastoral care do look to the masters of behavioral sciences to give them answers [or their urgent questions. Certainly, the assistance o[ these social sciences is o[ tremendous importance. Yet there is a unique dimension which goes beyond the ex-pertise o[ the behavioral sciences, that goes beyond pro- [essionalism to the internal dynamism of one's faith. We n Henri Nouwen, "Pastoral Care," National Catholic Reporter, v. 7, n. 20 (March 19, 1971), p. 8. are referring here not to techniques but to one's spiritual quality, to one's inner thrust, to one's conviction and authenticity to be communicated in encountering others. Jesus Himself cared for souls and their individual needs, for Magdalene, for the woman at the .well, for Nicode-mus. Jesus was skillful in His relationships with them and was not afraid to use His insights into the stirrings of the human heart. But when asked about the source of His knowledge He said: "My teaching is not from myself; it comes from the one who sent me" (Jn 7:16), This exemplifies going beyond techniques and skills and plunging into the heart of relationship to Another. Another text indicating the relationship between inner depth and one's mission, skillfully relating to others, is: "No one has seen God except the only Son who is into the bosom of the Father. He it is who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). "Into the bosom of the Father" means that the Son penetrates into the deepest secrets of the Father. Prayer, as was mentioned, inv~)lves a filial dyna-mism wherein the Holy Spirit, like di~cine energy, seizes the Son, carrying Him into the bosom of the Father. But then John adds: "He [the Son] it is who has made him known," marking the relationship between prayer and one's mission. To make known the Father, to be witness, one must give witness not only for Someone but to what one has seen. The only Son has made known what His divine gaze, in moving deeper into the secret recesses of the Father, has grasped and contemplated. All one's wit-nessing value issues out of a dynamism which has carried him, first of all, into the bosom of the Father. Again we are going beyond professionalism. Making known the Fa-ther, accomplishing one's apostolate, is to issue out of or be blended with searching into the inner recesses of the Father, that is, prayer. If one ceases to "wonder" in the silent reflection of his inner loneliness, if one has not yet begun to imbibe the Spirit by letting Scriptures speak to him, if one rationalizes his way out of praying together with a handful of friends who mediate the Spirit to him --this apostle has not gone beyond professionalism and can scarcely bring hope and ultimate meaning to the lives o£ others.4 Again we can approach the same matter by looking further into the meaning of "into the bosom of the Fa-ther." It means attaining the secret depths of God, plung-ing deeply into reality where God is hidden. Human experiences have privileged moments of disclosure where the infinite Thou is unveiled from within the finite 4 Gerard Broccolo, "The Priest Praying in the Midst of the Fam-ily of Men," Concilium, n. 52 (New York: Paulist, 1970). 4- 4- ÷ Prayer VOLUME 30, ).971 ÷ + + Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 760 thou.~ Searching into the bosom of the Father can mean a sensitivity for the deeper and transcending element that is experienced as co-present. We call this ultimate and hidden depth of human experience "Person" or "Father." The divine presence is hidden in the deepest dimension of human experience and so moving "into the bosom of the Father" can also mean contemplating God's work with man, distinguishing with a growing sensitivity the light and darkness in the human heart. Prayer, in this sense, is the ongoing disclosure of the deepest dimension of reality to us, revealing both God's light and man's darkness. In this perspective, our apostolate is never lim-ited to the application of any technique but ultimately goes beyond professionalism. It is the continuing search for God hidden in the life of the people we serve. Prayer, moving into the bosom of the Father, means searching and finding the God we want to make known in the lives of the people to whom we want to reveal Him. Prayer and Sell-identity ~Arho am 1? Do 1 think of myself as isolated, as exposed to the coincidences of every day, as placed in a universe withont meaning and without a fi~tnre? There are indeed moments in my life when I experience myself in this way. In faith I acknowledge nay new self-identity: I am a son and therefore given a destiny. I nnderstand myself as placed in a context where meaning and purpose are avail-able to me. This destiny makes me someone. In faith, therefore, I acknowledge nay own worth, not because of the efforts I make but because, as a son, I am accepted. In faith, there is no reason for me to be ashamed of myself. As son I rejoice in myselfY This filial identity is expressed and intensified by prayer. When the Son leaves the bosom of the Father and enters human life, his eternal "pros theon" movement is embodied at moments of prayer so that there is, in the evangelist's mind, a certain bond between Christ's prayer and manifesting His filial identity. For instance, at His Baptism there is a solemn declaration of His divine filia-tion by the Father as a result of Jesus' own prayer: "Now when all the people had been baptized and while Jesus after his own baptism was in prayer, heaven opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily shape, like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you' " (Lk 3:21-2). It was in the midst of His prayer that the Spirit's descent and ~ Fons d'Hoogh, "Prayer in a Secularized Society," Concilium, n. 49 (New York: Paulist, 1969), pp. 42 ft. ~ Gregory Baum, Faith and Doctrine (New York: Newman, 1969), p. 18. the Father's proclamation took place as if the Father was awaiting the filial dlan of His son, which prayer embod-ies, before declaring Jesus' divine filiation. Recognizing in Christ's words and gestures the authentic expression of sonship, the Father proclaimed with power that this man is His beloved Son. Notice the bond between Christ's prayer and revealing the true identity of Christ as Son. Again, at the Transfiguration, prayer plays the same role: "He took with him Peter and John and James and went up the mountain to pray" (Lk 9:28). The purpose was to pray and only during the course of their prayer did the incident of the Transfiguration take place. Jesus inwardly gazing upon the Father suddenly makes Him appear visibly what He is in reality: the resplendent glory of the Father (Heb 1:3): "As he prayed the aspect of his countenance was changed and his clothing became bril-liant as lightning" (Lk 9:29). As at the Baptism, by pray-ing Jesus adopts a filial attitude and in this "pros theon" movement the proclamation of divine Sonship is heard. Again, the bond between prayer and His self-identity as Son is seen. Finally, at His death, Jesus prays: "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). By beginning with "Father," Jesus changes the Psalmist's prayer of the Old Testament (Ps 21:6) into a filial prayer. The Psalmist was crying out to Yahweh but Christ trans-figures the Psalmist's prayer by saying "Father," making it a filial prayer. That cry was His last testimony as Son. At the supreme moment Jesus pulls Himself together so that fi'om the very ground of His being there arises the strength to proclaim what is closest to Him, His Sonship. This is the most moving revelation of His Sonship, so moving that it convinces the pagan centurion: "In truth this man was the son of God" (Mk 15:39). In the three most privileged moments wherein Christ is revealed as Son of God we are aware of the role of prayer. At the Baptism, at the Transfiguration, and at His death it was prayer that evoked the manifestation of Jesus' filial identity. In turning toward the Father in prayer Jesus is acting as Son and this gesture provokes on the part of the Father the proclamation of Christ's Sonship. This sponta-neous gesture belongs to the revelation of the mystery of His person. Whenever in prayer, Jesus is unveiling His divinity under a filial form. In Him there exists a bond between prayer and revealing the quality of sonship which allows us to say that prayer manifests and intensi-fies our self-identity as sons. If you are traveling on a train it occasionally happens that the steady clicking of the rails and the movement of the train begin to put you to sleep. When the train slows down and comes to a halt the little jolt involved in stop- Prayer VOLUME 30, 1971 ping awakens you. As-we move from one day into the next, often the sameness in daily situations can put one into a spiritual somnolence. It is when we stop that rhythm by breaking off for the sake of reflection that an awakening of inner life happens. Prayer, reflection, is an awakening to your deeper self, recalling you to what is the most basic dimension within you, to the reality as son. Prayer is discovering what you already are. You do not have to rush after it. It is there all the time. All that is needed is time for it to unfold. If you give it time it will make itself known to you. Christ established a new principle of human life: man becomes his true self espe-cially in prayer. Grace hides a filial identity and it is prayer which reveals to a human person that which is the deepest and truest nobility within onself: the quality as son of the Father. This turning toward the Father affirms and (leepens one's self-identity as son. Like Jesus Himself, man in prayer, continuing the mystery of the Incarna-tion, can become fully aware of what he really is, son. + + + Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS PETER BYRNE, C.Ss.R. Teilhard de Chardin and Commitment There is now incontrovertible evidence that mankind has just entered upon the greatest period of change the world has ever krlown.~ These stirring words were first uttered in 1936 by Tell-hard de Chardin, and they bear scrutiny today more than 30 years later when change seems to be not only taking place but seems to be the most constant feature of life. In fact change occurs so rapidly in these times that soci-ologists tell us that a new generation rises every 5 years. Practically, this means that the mores and values of any age group five years ago seem to the equivalent age group today to be dated. It may seem strange, but while all agree that rapid and radical change is taking place there is very little agreement as to the fundamental nature of the change itself. The symptoms of radical discontent with the past are apparent; but historians, philosoph.ers, theo-logians and scientists hardly dare to guess what will be the shape or appearance of the future, This paper is an attempt to find something constant at the heart and center of the changing world. It will at-tempt to answer the question of man's responsibility to direct and control change, and finally it will say some-thing about the part that religious rnust take in this dy-namic and changing world. We can list the symptoms of change under two head-ings, namely, destructive and constructive. On the de-structive side we witness the breakdown of authority and consequent concern about law and order as traditionally understood. Protest marches and demonstrations are the order of the day and often lead to violence and death. The establishment everywhere is under fire from young people demanding change, relevance, and recognition. I Teilhard de Chardin, Building the Earth (Wilkes Barre, Pa., 1965), p. 22. ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne gives missions and re-treats and can be reached at P.O. Box 95; Bacolod City, Philippines. VOLUME 30, 1971 763 Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 764 Every year brings a new record of abortions, murders, suicides, and violent deaths. Add to this the ever increas-ing number of drug addicts and drop-outs from society, the wars that rage in three continents and that are a constant threat to peace and order and established gov-ernment. This very age which we call the age of progress seems to be also the age of progressive estrangement from God. "Eclipse of the light of heaven, eclipse of God, such indeed is the character of the historic hour through which the world is passing." _o So wrote Martin Buber and man's loneliness and isolation from his fellowmen predictably led to isolation from God who was variously described as absent, silent, or dead. On the constructive side man has also something to show. In the short span of a few decades modern man has learned to fly, invented radio, telephone, and television; he has set up worldwide communications network, trans-planted hearts, harnessed electric and atomic power, pro-longed life expectancy, probed the secrets of the heavens, and landed on the moon. The new style of Christian life already in vigor in the world may be described as "more commitment and less devotion, more spirit and less super-stition, more autonomy and less authority, more society and less herd, more concern and less worry, more sponta-neity and less guilt, more creativity and less rote, more joy and less fear, more humanity and less pomposity, more thought and less testament." :~ Are we picturing only the sunny side of life and shut-ting our eyes to the horrors of life? "Men still merely understand strength, the key and symbol of violence in its primitive and savage form of war.''4 Have we forgotten Nagasaki, Biafra, Dachau--symbol of a Christian nation methodically with the aid of modern science exterminat-ing five million Jews and (often forgotten) six million Christians? This.age .of "civilisation" shows a record of at least one major war every decade leading to direct or in-direct killing of millions. A discussion of the comparative strength of nations means not their power to construct a better society and raise the standard of living, but rather their military resources in terms of minutemen, warheads, rockets, bombs and all kinds of fighting equipment. A well-known writer has said that he always reads the sports page of the newspaper first and the front page last be-cause the former contains the record of man's triumphs and the latter his defeats. We do not ignore the grim ~ Martin Bubcr, The Eclipse oJ God (New York, 1957), p. 23. ¯ ~ Leslie Dcwart, The Foundations oJ BelieJ (New York, 1969), p. 486. ~ Building the Earth, p. 73. reality of the turmoil in the world; it must enter into any view of the total human situation. Before going on to give interpretations of the trend of the human race and to theorize about its final end, we can make one observation here which I think will be accepted by all as true. At any stage of the history of the human race we can put down side by side the best and the worst features of the age, the constructive and the destructive elements that made up the human situation of the time. Numerically they may often seem to cancel each other out, leaving us to ponder the question of Sartre whether progress and life are not finally absurd. However, the good and bad elements of human history differ markedly in one important respect; namely, the bad pass and the good remain. To clarify--the natural disasters like plagues, famine, earthquakes, fires, floods; the man-made calamities of war, murder, and scientific destrnction, which directly and indirectly have claimed millions of lives, we have survived all these (though by no means paid the debt of expiation). Not only has the human race survived all disasters but established a world opinion that seems to make a recurrence of the worst of these virtually impossible. Not only has the human race survived and grown more and more enlightened but the products of man's skill and inventiveness spread further every day and be-come more and more available to people everywhere-- medicine, transportation, communication, education, all adding up to man's conquest of matter and coming to enjoy greater personal fi'eedom. It does seem that general history shows that the good things of life survive while the less worthy perish and pass into comparative oblivion. This is not to say that there were no exceptions to this general rule. Many of the ancients showed skills in archi-tecture, sculpture, acoustics, writing, whose secrets have been lost. This paper is concerned with the future and the pres-ent rather than with the past. What we say of the past has value mainly for our extrapolated assessment of the trend of progress in the future. The attitude that we adopt to-wards the world and towards life is determined by our philosophy, our theology, or simply by our experience. People who have had firsthand experience of war often lose faith in human nature and faith in God Himself. If God exists and is good, how can He permit the sense-less killing of innocent human b(ings? Sartre reached the conclusion that man is utterly alone: "With no ex-cuses behind us or justification before us, every human being is born without reason, prolongs life out of weak- + ÷ + Teiihartl and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 765 ÷ ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 766 ness and dies by chance." "~ For Sartre God did not exist and life was absurd. This does not do justice to Sartre nor do we intend here to dwell on him because it does not seem possible to build a philosophy of hope for the fu-ture on the premise that life is absurd. I should like to contrast here two attitudes towards the future of the earth---one is found in what may be loosely called traditional Catholic spirituality and the other in the works of Teilhard de Chardin. The traditional Catholic expression of the purpose of our life is contained in the oft quoted words of St. Ig-natius Loyola: "Man was created to praise God his Lord, to give Him honor and so to save his soul." 6 The helleni-sation of Christianity brought into clear relief the dis-tinction between body arid soul and practically the mes-sage of salvation as preached was preoccupied with saving the soul which was imprisoned in the body. The great enemies of salvation were the world, the flesh, and the devil. The question was asked: What does. Jesus say to teach us that saving our soul is more important than anything else? And the answer: Jesus says: "What doth it profit a man if he gains the whole world but suffers the loss of his own soul?" 7 If the world posed a threat to the salvation of the soul, the proper attitude towards it was one of detachment if not positive conflict. It should be used to sustain life but never developed for its own sake. It could be used also to store up merit through labor: "Labor as the fulfillment of God's will is a source of merit, atoning for sin and lay-ing up glory in heaven. Through it I work out my own salvation and contribute to the good of my neighbor, both spiritual and material good." s Distrust of the flesh easily led to distrust of human emotions and heavy emphasis on the necessity of asceti-cism. Penance was exalted and a luxurious life frowned upon. Scientific advances were often judged not by bene-fits they conferred but rather by the threat that they posed to a way of life that should be sealed with the cross of Christ. Taken all in all, this world and even the human body was man's temporary prison from which the true Christian looked forward to release for his entry into his true home in heaven. Of course, it was a matter of emphasis acquired little by little as the Church tried to meet the challenges that she had to face. And how does traditional Christianity appear ~ H. J. Blackman (cd.), Reality, Man and Existence (New York, 1965), p. 325. ~A Catholic Catechism (New York, 1963), p. 2. z Ibid., p. 299. s Leo Trese, Guide to Christian Living (Notre Dame, 1963), p. 345. to modern man? He sees it as indifferent if not actually hostile to science, no leader in the world but a deserter, scared of personalism and love; a religion of death, pov-erty, suffering, sorrow, that knows how to weep at the crucifixion but incapable of joy at the resurrection; with no adequate theology of work, success, joy, marriage, youth, hope, life, or love. Young people today are looking for a presentation of Christianity that will endorse their admiration for sci-ence, their love of the workl, and their hopes for the fu-ture. It is Teilhard de Chardin who seems to give Chris-tianity the particular emphasis necessary to meet these aspirations of our time. In contrast, the traditional preaching of Christianity seemed to be more interested in the past than the future; it seemed cold towards science and detached from the earth. This of course was reflected in the practical lives of Christians, causing Christianity to be dubbed as irrelevant. Let us see how Teilhard un-derstood the trend of evolution and the implication of his views in terms of commitment: The situation which Teilhard entered was one in which materialists asserted that everything in this world is governed by blind purposeless determinism; while christians too often were simply fighting a rear-guard action against them, trying to resist as long as possible any scientific theory which seemed to conflict with traditional ideas.° Teilhard was at the same time .a devoted priest and a devoted scientist. His closest friends included unbelievers, agnostics, skeptics--many of them outstanding scientists for whom Christianity was an outdated monolith indiffer-ent to progress. Teilhard wanted to find a way of giving expression to the faith that was in him in a way that the scientists would listen to. And so he began by speaking the language of the scientist in terms that held their attention and commanded their respect because of his diligence in research. However his life work was not intended merely as an apologetic for others but because he felt also within himself the anguish of trying to reconcile progress on earth with the christian ideal of detachment: This has always been the problem of my life; what I mean is the reconciliation of progress and detachment---of a passionate and legitimate love for this great earth and unique pursuit of the kingdom of heaven?° ÷ And so he set out to try to reconcile in a single synthesis + these two. He believed that they could not be opposed + but must in some way complement one another. To effect Teilhard and the synthesis he did not begin with revelation but with Commitment ° Fr. John Russell, A Vision o/Teilhard de Chardin, p. 9. ~°Christopher F. Mooney, Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery Christ (New York, 1966), p. 28. VOLUME 30, 1971 767 + ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 768 what can be observed by human perception. He was not afraid of what science might discover. "We christians," he said, "have no need to be afraid of, or to be unreason-ably shocked by, the resuhs of scientific research . they detract nothing from the almighty power of God nor from the spirituality of the soul, nor from the supernatu-ral character of christianity, nor from a man's superiority to the animals." al For Teilhard the whole world was in a state of becom-ing. It has very obviously developed from a state of chaos to a state of order. It may have taken five billion years to reach its present state. In the course of those years the earth cooled and became gradually disposed to produce and sustain life. Even prior to the emergence of life on earth a very important aspect of evolution is observable, namely, complexity. Electron, atom, molecule--these show not only. succession in time but gradual growth in complexity organized about a center. Teilhard calls this centro-complexity. This process is carried further in vi-ruses and further still in cells which are the first bodies that beyond doubt possess life. Still further tip the scale of development are plants and animals which have their own order of complexity. But Teilhard observed also that growth in complexity is accompanied by a gradual intensification of conscious-ness. By means of the mechanisms of reproduction and association, life on earth moved forward in time and upward on the scale of coxnplexity. Man made his appear-ance one million years ago which in terms of the age of life on earth is quite recent. The thin line of life that has survived and developed on earth ~loes not amount to one millionth of the leaves that have sprouted on the tree of life. Complexity is a measure of time and this complexity in the various forms of life helps us to differentiate the time of their emergence in the course of evolution. But complexity alone does not mark one stage of evo-lution from another. A new element enters in, conscious-ness. The more complex a being becomes, the more centered it is on itself and the more aware it is. This aware-ness gives the being spontaneity of action and the ability to adapt and to dominate. This consciousness is further accompanied with the growth and refinement of the nerv-ous system. Matter achieves the break-through into con-sciousness through the complexification of the cells which produced the nervous system. The "within" of a thing grows more intense as the external o~'ganisation of the nervous system grows more complex. This "within" of things is a spiritual energy that was latent in matter im-n Teiihard de Chardin, Science and Christ (New York, 1968), p. 35. pelling evolution upwards in a glorious ascent. It is called by Teilhard "radial energy" and is that ever vibrating and vital force that has maintained the evolutionary process despite the unimaginable hazards that the process has encountered in the course of its millions of years of duration. A new threshold in the evolutionary process is crossed after due process of divergence, convergence, and emerg-ence. The final emergence is a new development in con-sciousness, something old because it came from the po-tential in the antecedents and emerged through creative union. Nevertheless, the new .emergence can be called new because it cannot be reduced to anything that was there before. Thought was the sign of a new emergence. In primates nature concentrated on the development of the brain. This is the process of cerebralisation. An increase of con-sciousness is in direct proportion to the degree of cere-bralisation, that is, increase in the complexity of brain structure. Among the primates when a certain advanced stage of brain development had been achieved, thought was born and with thought man was born. So that is the position of man in the evolutionary proc-ess. He is not the offshoot of a runaway evolution but the supreme culmination and product of the process itself-- the result of development and effort that covered aeons of time. Man is a person and he personalizes the world. He penetrates the world by his creative thinking and organizes the world-around himself. Man is not only conscious but also self-conscious; he can think and reflect on himself. He can survey the whole length of his own past history; he can see the process of successive emer-gences by which he himself has come to be. He sees the ever enduring quality of "radial energy" that still drives the process onward and upward. Comparing his present state with the state of evolution prior to man he asks the question: Where do we go from here? And then realizes that he does not only have the question but that the answer also is up to man himself. The new quality of the present stage of evolution is that it is under man's control. All stages prior to the emer-gence were at a subhuman level and therefore outside man's own control. In a certain sense man is the creator and not merely the passive recipient of the next stage of evolution. Before determining what are our obligations to the future we must continue the scientific process of observa-tion and try by extrapolation if we can know the trend of evolution for the future. The process leading to emer-gence must continue and this is leading mankind ~o ever greater and greater unity. This socialization of commun-÷ ÷ ÷ Teilhard and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 769 4. 4. Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity is truly the crucial phase of the whole evolutionary process, and the deepest longing of the human heart is that it will never end but that it will reach fulfillment. This fulfillment cannot destroy thought or consciousness or personality. On the contrary it must eternalize them. Teilhard's idea of final synthesis becomes clearer when we contragt it with Bergson's idea that the elan vital (his name for what Teilhard calls radial energy) would finally issue in plurality and divergence: Bergson chose the plurMity and divergence. According to the Jewish philosopher, the world is evolving towards dispersal. As it advances its elements acquire greater autonomy. Each being is to achieve its own utmost originality and its maximum freedom in opposition to others. Perfection, bliss and supreme grandeur belong to the part not to the whole. From this dis-persive point of view socialisation of tb~ ".-.roman masses seems to be absurd regression or servitude. ~Lssentially the universe spreads like a fan; it is divergent in s :~cture."-' Teilbard's conclusion from science was that the universe has a goal and that this goal will be achieved because if the universe bas hitherto been successful in the unlikely task of bringing human thought to birth in what seems to us an unimaginable tangle of chances and mishaps it means that it is fundamentally directed by a power tbat is eminently in control of the elements that make up the universe.'" This power is the omega that must be personal, im-manent, and eternal. The answer to this need felt by the scientist is in the Christ of revelation. "By itself science cannot discover Christ--but Christ satisfies the yearnings that are born in our hearts in the school of science." 14 This is the achievement of Teilhard--to show how sci-ence and Christianity can join bands in accomplishing the final destiny of mankind. "Humanity," he says, "evolves in such a way ;is to form a natural unity whose extension is as vast as the earth." a~ Greater planetization, greater socialization, greater unity in love, this is the stage of development that we have reached. This conclu-sion is compatible with science and doubly borne out by our faith. "A passionate love of growth, of being, that is what we need." ~ (These sentiments were echoed by Pope Panl Vl in Populorum progressio when he said of the underprivileged: "They want to know more, and have more, because what they really want is to be more.") Love is the most universal, formidable, and mysterious of the cosmic energies; and Teilbard defines love as "the '~ Francisco Bravo, Christ in the Thought o] Teilhard tie Chardin, p. 15. ~.s Science and Ctirisg, p. 41. ~ Ibid., p. 36. ~s Ibid., p. 93. ~" Building the Earth, p. 108. attraction which is exercised upon each conscious element by the center of the universe." ~7 "The age of nations is past. The task before us now, if we would not perish, is to shake off our ancient !)rejudices and to build the earth." ~s Therefore Teilhard's contribution in respect to the fu-ture is to show us where the radial energy at the heart of evolution is driving us. We are tending towards not a meaningless annihilation, but, through interaction and love, towards the blending into one commnnity and even into one consciousness of all humanity. In fact, Teil-hard says that the crisis of the present time is a spiritual crisis in the sense that men "do not know towards what universe and final end they shonld direct the driving force of their sonls." ~'~ But we Christians know that prog-ress is leading to the restoration of all things in Christ. History, science, anthropology can systematically ennmer-ate the timeless longings of the human heart and can list the various endeavors to accomplish tlteir fnlfiIlment. The endeavors failed for it is only Christ who meets the demand of the alpha and the omega. Teilhard was able to show that science does not have to eclipse religion or vice versa. In fact both of these need each other if total harmony in the world is to be ac, hieved. Of science Tell-hard said: "The time has come to realise that research is the highest hnman ftmction, embracing the spirit of war and bright with the splendor of religion." '-'~' And of religion he writes: "Out of universal evolution God emerges ill onr consciousness as greater and more neces-sary than ever." ~1 Teilhard summed up his convictions succinctly when he wrote in The Divine Milieu: . three convictions which are the very marrow of christian-ity, the unique significance of Man as the spear-head of life; the position of Catholicism as the central :~xis in the convergent bnndle of human activities; and finally the essential ftmction as consummator assumed by the risen Christ at the cemer and peak of creation: these three elements have driven and con-tinue to drive roots so deep and so entangled in the whole fabric of my intellectual and religious perception that I could now tear them out only at the cost of destroying everything.~ He says that a challenge is put to a C/n'istian to be ac-tive and busily active "working as earnestly as the most convinced of those who work to build up the earth, that Christ may continually be born more fnlly in the world ~ Ibid., F- 45. ~8 Ibid., p. 54. "~' 'S Bciueinldcien agn tdh eC Eharirstth, ,p p. .1 5061. -"r Ibid., p. 59. '-'-'Teilbard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu (London, 1968), p. 38. + + 4- Teilhard and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 + ÷ ÷ Pete~ Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 772 around him. More than any unbeliever never outstripped in hope and boldness." Teilhard spoke also of the task that confronts theolo-gians to think through the implications of evolution so that a new proclamation of thegospel may herald the new era in which we live. For the Christian this world is not only an antechamber to heaven but a task and a vo-cation. He wants Catholic doctrine to be given a dynamic aspect and a universal, cosmic, and futurist dimension34 The turmoil that we witness in the Church today may well be the birth pangs antecedent to a new emergence of Christianity not merely in the shadow of the cross but, more relevant to the hope that is in us, in its shining light. Leslie Dewart expresses the same hope when he writes: "Christian belief may yet become the leading cultural force contributing to the conscious self-creation of the hnman world." For Teilhard religion fixes its gaze not on the past but on the future which offers us the snre promise to make all things new: His concern was to blaze a trail for the new type of christian of his dreams---one in whom love for the task of living here on earth in an evolving world would coincide with a love for Christ, goal and crowning glory of that world; a christian whose vision would be focused upon the future and whose faith would take full account of the world's new dimensions; a christian in whom openness toward all mundane values would be matched with an unconditional commitment to God."~ It is important to note that involvement with the world and commitment to God if properly understood do not produce any dichotomy in man. It rather answers to the dual natnre of man "slime o~ the earth made into the image and likeness of God." ~ Modern psychology and related sciences now show that for mental health it is absolntely necessary to preserve these two in a fine bal-ance. "Moral norms," writes Erich Fromm, "are based upon man's inherent qualities, and their violation results in mental and emotional disintegration." zs If we do succeed in achieving the balance required it will be due not only to knowledge but also to faith and hope and the Holy Spirit. We are in the world not merely to foster evolution at a natural level: "In the life of the individual Christian as well as in the life of the Church as a whole there is an immediate and transcendent relationship to the Person of Christ which is independ~ent of all human ~ Science and Christ, p. 68. " N. M. Wildiers, An Introduction to Teilhard de Chardin (Lon-don, 1968), p. 123. '-'~ Leslie Dewart, op. cit., p. 689. '¯-'~ Wildiers, op. cit., p. 161. .,r Genesis 1:27. = Erich Fromm, Man ]or Hirnsel! (Greenwich, Corm, 1968), p. 17. progress and which cannot be reduced to any mere hu-man energy." .~9 Teilhard's pre6ccupation with his particular point of view and the particular purpose of his synthesis may have led him to understate the radical nature of the Incarna-tion and Redemption as a free gift of God apart from creation. Yet again it may be merely a question of empha-sis. He expressly left it to theologians to think through the implications of his theories for Christian doctrine as a whole. In this connection it would be interesting to ask what Teilhard thought of the religious life, aml how it fits into his world vision. He did not treat of the subject explicitly at any great length but we can gather some of his ideas on the subject, We can state at once that, in spite of many trials from superiors, Teilhard remained faithful to the Society of Jesus and even said: "The faintest idea of a move to leave the Order has never crossed my mind." ~0 He saw fidelity to the Order as the only reasonable course for him. We can go at once to the heart of the matter by stating that the bond of union among men in the final stage of evolution is love, and love is also the pnrpose and the essence of the religious life. According to Teilhard it is only with man that love appears on earth. Sexuality ap-peared first in the evolntionary history of the world as an exclusively physical phenomenon h~ving as its primary function the conservation of the biological species. But with the coming of man sex begins to manifest a spiritual dimension which is ever expanding. The personalizing function of sexual love is becoming more and more prominent. Teilhard uses sexual love in a much wider sense than the merely genital: "Sexual love is rather the personal union in oneness of being achieved by a man and a woman, an interpenetration and constant exchange of thoughts, dreams, affections, and prayers." al He says that there is a general drift of matter towards spirit in sexual love the ideal of which is found in Christ who authenticated celibacy, "a human aspiration that had been maturing in the human soul." :v, Celibacy is the evidence of humanity's ability to affect the transcendence to which it aspires. Speaking of his own witness to this he says: To the full extent of my power, because I am a priest I wish from now on to be the first to become conscious of all that the world loves, pursues and suffers; I want to be the first to seek, ~ Christopher F. Mooney, op. cit,, p. 209. ~Teilhard de Chardin, Letters to Leontine Zanta (London, 1969), p. 33. ~t Charles W. Freible, S.J., "Teilhard, Sexual Love, and Celibacy," R~w~w ro~ R~L~C,~OUS, v. 26 (1967), p. 289. ~'~ Ibid., p. 290. 4- 4- 4- Teiihard and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 773 to sympathise and to suffer; the first to open myself out and sacrifice myself--to become more widely human and more nobly of the earth than any of the world's servants.= By his vows he wished to recapture all that was good in love, gold, and independence. The religious therefore, far from being a deserter is the witness to the final end of man's striving, to his aspira-tion for spiritualization and complete Christification of his life. Christ preaches purity, charity, and self-denial-- but what is the specific effect of purity if it is not the concen-tration and sublimation of the manifold powers of the soul, the unification of man in himself? What again does charity effect if not the fusion of multiple individuals in a single body and a single soul, the unification of men among themselves? And what finally does christian self-denial represent, if not the deconcentration of every man in favor of a more perfect and more loved Being, the unification of all in one.~ The religious is precisely the especially chosen to show forth in'his life the joy of the new resurrection to which the whole of humanity tends. Finally, the consummation in glory that mankind awaits is not merely the dream of a distant future. The transformation and divinization of the universe occurs sacramentally in the Mass when the bread and wine rep-resenting mankind and mankind's universe become Christ. The Euchararistic consecration renders present the final victory for mankind which will bring a new heaven and a new earth and Christ will be all in all. The Divine Mih'eu, p. 105. Science and Christ, p. ~4. + + + Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 774 SISTER MARY HUGH CAMPBELL The. Particular Examen-- Touchstone of a Genuinely Apostolic Spirituality There is perhaps today no prayer-category considered so lifeless, so vulnerable to attacks of "formalism," so rejected as a lure of regression into an exclusive and introverted Jesus-and-I existence as is the particular ex-amination of conscience. Yet it held pride of place in a spirituality characterized as one of dynamism, initiative, and filan--that of Ignatius Loyola, a spirituality pecul-iarly suited, it would seem, to attract adherents in our last third of the twentieth century, when man has finally admitted his basic call to be a movement out of himself to serve that brother who has now displaced the sun as the center of his universe. The ideal of Ignatius was first and last apostolic: "To serve Christ through the aid of souls in companionship." 1 And to attain it, "he seemed to count primarily on the examens of conscience, exercises from which he never dispensed." "' One of his early followers, Louis Lallemant, the master of novices who formed Isaac Jogues, echoed Ignatius in his insistence upon the apostolate as the sum-mit of the spiritual life: "The last reach of the highest perfection in this world is zeal for souls." s And to attain this ideal, he prescribed the same "slow work of purifica- 1 Cited by John C. Futrell, S.J., Making an Apostolic Community o] Love (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 14. -"Alexandre Brou, S.J., La spiritualitd de saint lgnace (Paris: Beauchesne, 1928), p. 23. aCited by Francois Courel, S.J., ed., La vie et La doctrine spiri-tuelle du P~re Louis Lallemant (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), p. 25. Subsequent references to Courel are references to his intro-duction; when the work itself is in question, Lallemant will be cited. Sister Hugh is a member o~ the Di-vinity School of St. Louis University; 3825 West Pine; St. Louis, Missouri 63~08. VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Hugh REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 776 tion and discernment." 4 Francis de Sales, accorded new relevance todi~y as having been among the first to sense the need of a spirituality adjusted to life in the secular sphere, himself a product o{ Jesuit training, taught Phil-othea in his Devout I~i[e that the examen, which he called the "spiritual retreat," was "the great heart of de-votion," which on occasion "can supply the lack of all other prayers." '~ Each of these was a man of ~nvolvement; and for each of them Lallemant's dictum held true: the attention he paid to external things, instead of weaken-ing his union witlt God, served rather to strengthen it, because in the last analysis, the equilibrium of the apos-tolic life was a matter of the love which was to be exer-cised in everything. And for each of the three, the partic-ular examen--by whatever name--held primacy of place among spiritual exercises. The word "discernment" is enjoying a new vogue at the moment; it is vaguely sensed that the notion is cen-tral to the spiritual life in a century of acceleration, and that in some nebttlous way it means a form of prayer-in-activity for which many are searching. This is very true. Yet the term has a disciplined precision of meaning: it is the name for the entire, dynamic process of discovering and responding to the actual word of God here and now.~ It is the core of Ignatian spirituality. Within it--and one might add, only within it--"the practice of daily examens of conscience is completely intelligible." ~ A life of discernment is one in which one's core experi-ence of self-identity as openness to Christ personally known is the ground of all his conscious choices. Each significant decision is made after prayer and a careful weighing of all available evidence (a vahtable element of tire latter being often the counsel of another), and con-firmed--~ tlways, of course, in faith--by the peace which testifies to its affinity with one's primordial experience of being possessed by Christ. Gradually even lesser decisions are sttccessively, almost instinctively, submitted to the same process of alignment until one ends by finding Christ everywhere, as willing and accepting this concrete service of love. Discernment is not ttnderstood, however, as the sum toted of prayer: moments of distancing from the human situation are essential if one is to give expres-sion to his faith-experience of union with Christ, an ex-pression without which it cannot know new illumination or deepening. Only in this way can he be assured of ~ Courel, Vie, p. 24. '~ Cited by Aloys Pottier, S.J., Le P. Louis Lallemant et les grands spirituels de son temps (Paris: Tequi, 1928), pp. 342 f. passim. 6John C. Futrcll, S.J., lgnatian Discernment (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), pp. 47-52. r Ibid., p. 81. finding Christ in more ambiguous choices, and in those even more painful decisions in which he discerns the paradox of absurdity to be the condition for his finding him. The increasing incalculability, if one may so term it, of man's evolving universe might alone render discernment a delicate, even a hazardous, process. Personal notes of Ignatius reveal the prolonged tension which important decisions produced in him, and the slow, painful groping for certitude which followed them. Yet difficult as these were, he very realistically saw that man had within him sources of darkness which could render any discernment at all impossible. Another element was necessary before one could hope to make decisions in the clarity of truth: personal freedom from anything that could close him to the light. As Lallemant, who followed him, was later to call it, the other pole of discernment was "the study of purity of heart." 8 An illuminating study might result from a search into the imagery by which saints and theologians throughout the ages have inscaped man's frightening potency for evil. Olier's "stagnant pool," Marmion's "depth of our way-wardness," Rahner's "deadly abyss of [utility"--all alike point to a reality which it is impossible to dismiss. Lalla-anant wrote very candidly of the "muddy well" in which "a multitude of desires are unceasingly fermenting," a well "full of false ideas and erroneous judgments." ~ To assign to each of these its local habitation and its name-- to say them as they are in us--is the cotmterpoise of discernment, and an exercise at least as painful as the former. Examination of conscience, then, is a proviso, a sine qua non. And Lallemant recognized that "the heart re-coils from nothing so much as this search and scrutiny. all the powers of our soul are disordered beyond measure, and we do not wish to know it, because the knowledge is humiliating to us." 10 To dispense with it is, as P. de Ponlevoy incisively saw, to rester darts le vague.11 On the contrary, one who "submits to the real" has given up the dreams which kept him marking time, because he finally found the real to be truer and less deceiving than dreams,v' Seen in this light the examen becomes a disci-pline of authenticity, a sharpening of the pole of purity of heart which ensures gentfineness of docility to the Spirit. Lallemant saw a direct correlation between super- Courel, Vie, p. 81. Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 140. Ibid., pp. 141-2. Cited by Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 344. a~Antoine Delchard, S.J., "L'filection darts la vie quotidienne," Christus, v. 14 (1958), pp. 206-19 passim. ÷ ÷ ÷ Particular Examen VOLUME ,~0, 1971 4" 4" 4" REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 778 ficial examens and lack of sensitiveness tt~ the guidance of the Spirit; on the other hand, he was convinced that "they who have applied themselves for three or four years to watch over their interior, a.ud have made some prog-ress in this holy exercise, know already how to treat a multitude of cases with address and absence of all rash judgment." 1.s It would be difficult to label as "formalism" the exigen-cies of Lallemant's asceticism: "guard of one's heart; deep and prolonged examens; progressive purifications contin-ued for years." 14 He defined purity of heart to mean "having nothing therein which is in however small a degree opposed to God and the operation of His grace." 1.5 And he went so far as to say that this was the exercise of the spiritual life against which the spirit of evil directed most opposition. He urged those under his charge to guard themselves carefully from any deliberate resistance to the Spirit by venial sin, to learn to recognize the first disorderly movements of their hearts, to watch over and regulate their thoughts, so as to recognize the inspirations of God--so as to be able, in other words, clearly to discern the word of God in the concrete situa-tions which presented themselves. He declared that "we never have vices or imperfections without at the same time having false judgments and false ideas." a0 And yet he insisted that this work of moving toward ever greater openness and freedom be done calmly, and especially that it be joined to a deep devotion to the person of Christ: examination was never to become the cult of itself. Such constant, increasingly more honest surveillance is taxing; he admitted this. Actually, in the words of those he directed, "he required nothing else ]rom us but this constant attention." His ultimate counsel was that of Christ: Vigilate--watch; until n~thing should escape one's attention, until the inner roots from which egotism took its rise were destroyed. He expected, in the end, spontaneity without strain, sureness of discernment, readiness, in the service of souls, for the cross. And among those who listened, noted, and demanded of himself this most to be dreaded of all disciplines, of all confronta-tions, was Isaac Jogues. Many have been alienated from the exercise because they conceived the medium as the message; the little check-list of "G's," familiar from the Exercises, was iso-lated from the spirit--so absolutely aware of the needs of his own temperament, yet so absolutely respectful of the freedom of others--of the Basque soldier who drew it up Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 262. Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 168. Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 80. Ibid., p. 101. for his own searing symbols of an utterly blunt honesty with himself. His strategy had the labored realism of one for whom the calculated small gains of military planning had been a fact of daily experience; and if his proposed concentration upon one fault at a time has impressed many as me.chanistic and rigid, it has been suggested that their preference for prolonging sterile efforts endlessly is hardly less painful.17 And Ravignan notes, in this connec-tion, "How strong one is, when he concentrates all his energy in unity. To think of only one thing, wish only one thing, do, finally, only one thing is the secret of all power." 18 And in the mind of Ignatius, this "one thing" was response in freedom to the word one had clearly discerned. In the end, it had become quite simply his life. No less than the check-list, the well-known "five points" of the two daily examens have been misunder-stood and exteriorized. Ignatius saw three different times of day and two examinations to be involved when he advocated the practice; but the laconic outline in which he explains them must be seen in the light of his final "Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," especially in its close where he sees God as a fountain from which all goodness pours out on him, a light in which everything bathes. Gerard Manley Hopkins has, in an unfinished lyric, given rich expression to Ignatius' simple prose: Thee, God, I come from, to thee go, All day long I like fountain flow From thy hand out, swayed about Mote-like in thy mighty glow. What I know of thee I bless, As acknowledging thy stress On my being and as seeing Something of thy holiness . '~ This is why the first point is a prayer of gratitude for the goodness and forgiveness which are man's twofold debt. Louis du Pont has probed the familiar method in order to discover its marrow: the optimism which pre-scribed gratitude first, thus guarding against sadness; the realism of seeing that the memory is so unfaithful, the mind so darkened, and the will so loveless that there is deep need of prayer for light. The examination itself, the third point, is a sincere acknowledgment of good, where this is recognized; and in the admission of sin or failure there is a counsel to do this in a spirit of the untranslata-ble douceur--that gentleness which refrains from turning bitter reproaches against itself, but rather grieves over the H. Pinard de la Boullaye, S.J., La spiritualitd ignatienne (Paris: Plon, 1949). Cited by Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 93. W. H. Gardner and N. H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Oxford University, 1970), n. 155, p. 194. + + Particular E~amen VOLUME 30, 1971 779 + ÷ ÷ Sister Hugh REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 780 injury to One who has poured himself out, as fountain and light, in such generous giving. After the expression of perfect sorrow, one is urged in a fifth point to an efficacious resolution--so, practical as to foresee and so circumvent future failure. Previsioned when rising, this exercise is to be made at two different times of the day--at noon, and again after the evening meal,.and this in addition to a final, general examination made before retiring. Such a discipline can only confirm the fact that, throughout the Exercises, Ig-natius "supposes that one knows where he is going and wants to get there, and is ready to take the best means, then to examine those which present themselves, to weigh them, to choose them with knowledge of the cause." 20 In a word, lie s~pposed that one was ready to discern, among many means, that one whose cause was the inspi-ration of the Spirit; through long experience with his own peculiar cast of egotism, he would swiftly dismiss false weights. And those who followed this profound psy-chologist- saint did know where they were going, and did want to get there: the summit of apostolic zeal. Such a man as Claude de la Colombi~re, to take a single exam-ple, vowed never to pass from one occasion to another without a backward-forward look: from self-scrutiny to discernment. Again, from these particular exercises, described as j;ournalier, Ignatius never dispensed: "The importance accorded these examens is the touchstone of truly igna-tian spirituality." '-'x And the ~ournalier--"daily"--has been interpreted by some as actually occupying the whole day. For such a man as Lallemant, it actually did. He described as one of the greatest of all graces that of being "SO watchful that the least irregular movement rising in the heart is perceived and immediately corrected, so that in the space of a week, for example, we should perform very few external or internal acts of which grace is not the principle."'-'" Particular examen and discernment thus become arsis and thesis of a single life, until finally "some have no need of making a particular examen, be-cause they no sooner commit the least fault than they are immediately reproved for it and made aware of it; for they walk always in the light o~ the Holy Spirit, who is their guide. Such persons are rare, and they make a par-ticular examen, so to say, out of everything." 2~ All the energies of the person are concentrated in a single care not to sully the light which ponrs into and then from him, an instrument entirely at the service of Christ. Such ~ Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 83. .-t Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 335. = Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 228. '-"~ Ibid., p. 229. men have reached that fullness of the apostolate which is the summit of the spiritual life, discerning as they do in entire freedom that which is most conducive to the reign of God. So conceived, the examen is possible under an infinite number of forms; endlessly supple, it can be adapted to a variety of conceptual, cultural, and temperamental differ-ences. But always it is a sincere and considered pursuit of an ideal which is one's own most personal name given him by God: "The particular examen, practiced by a soul which has begun to climb, is sacrifice which has reached the stage of being one's rule of life." ,.,4 Far from having become "irrelevant" in spiritualities vowed to the genu-ine only, it is rather the infallible touchstone of their authenticity. -"~ Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 96. ÷ ÷ ÷ Particular Examen VOLUME 30, 1971 78] JAMES C. FLECK, S.J. The Israeli Kibbutz and the Catholic Religious. Community: A Study of Parallel Communal Life Styles j. c. Fleck, S.J., lives at Apartment 208; 150 Driveway; Ottawa, Canada. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The kibbutz movement in Israel consits of about 250 agricultural-industrial collectives. They have a popula-tion of 90,000, slightly tinder 4% of the Jewish popula-tion in the State of Israel. This population includes full members (Jewish men and women, nearly all married, who have completed their military service and have been accepted by the kibbutz after a trial period of a year or two), the children of the kibbutz members, selected lead-ers of the Jewish youth movement abroad who plan even-tually to join a kibbutz, U1pan students (predominantly Jewish) who combine study and work on the kibbutz for periods ranging from six months to a year, and volun-teers (predominantly non-Jewish) who volunteer to work on the kibbutz for at least a month in return for room, board, and a very small amount of spending money. The first kibbutz was founded in Israel in 1909. The largest period of growth was prior to and immediately after the Second World War. In this period the kibbutz population represented nearly 10% of the nation. In the past fifteen years there has been no significant growth in the number of kibbutzim. The slightly increasing num-bers of kibbutzniks is accounted for primarily by internal growth, due to an increasing average family size. There are four federations to which nearly all kib-butzim belong. Each one is delineated by the political party to which it is or was affiliated. One, the smallest federation comprising 4,000 members (3% of the total kibbutz population), is religious, consisting of practicing Orthodox Jews. The other kibbutz federations shade fi'om non-religious to anti-religious. The land tilled by the kibbutzim is owned by the Is-raeli government throngh the Jewish National Fund. The original physical plant is financed by the govern-ment on low-interest long-term loans. When a kibbutz becomes operationally profitable it pays regular corpora-tion taxes. In addition, the kibbutz must pay a national consumption tax on the living expenditures of its mem-bers comparable to the personal income tax paid by the general public. The purpose of this study is to examine parallels in the life style between the kibbutz movement and Catholic religious orders. Wbile the common life in the two insti-tutions are often merely analogous, they are in many instances equivalent. Thus, a knowledge of the kibbutz movement can provide valuable insights in examining religious orders. The Kibbutz as a Religious Sect The basic motivating factors that built the kibbutz movement are: (l) Zionism, (2) Marxism, (3) the German Youth (Wandervogel) Movement. The founders of the kibbutz movement rejected the religion, the life style, the family structure, and the business interests of the Euro-pean Jewish community of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Wandervogel Movement fostered a spirit of youth peer group identity, a desire to return to nature, and a spirit of travel and adventure. Marx offered a model of productive and consumptive collectivism in a secular society. Zionism offered an escape from European anti-semitism and a positive aspiration of nation-building.~ The Pristine "'Religious" Values Based on the Boy Scouts, the Wandervogel Movement had basic principles which were incorporated into the kibbutz ideology. They include: truth, loyalty, brother-hood, dependability, a love of nature, obedience to the group, joy in living, generosity in work, courage, and purity in tbougbt, word, and deed. This latter was inter-preted to mean opposition to drinking, smoking, and sex-ual relationships. The Youth Movement believed all the pettiness and sordidness of human behavior was a func- ~ Melford E. Spiro. Kibbutz, Venture in Utopia, New York, pp. 44, 48, 175 ft. 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 783 ÷ ÷ J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 784 tion of city living with its concomitant luxuries and false conventions." Consequently the early kibbutz movement was marked by asceticism. There was a rejection of material comfort, abstinence from alcohol and tobacco, no "ball room" (lancing, no motion pictures, simple housing and cloth-ing, no children (since they would pnt a financial burden on the community), communal property, common toilets and showers, dormitories, common dining hall, simple and inexpensive food, an emphasis on hard physical work and menial tasks. The Faith of the Kibbutz Marxism is the religion of the kibbutz. The basic maxim is: "From each according to his ability; to each according to his need." Initially the kibbntzniks hoped to find a form of collective salvation in withdrawal from the world and the re-establishing of a microcosm o{ the per-fect society based on fellowship. It next blossomed into a militant sect devoted to converting the world.:~ Today the kibbutz movement has returned to its pristine withdrawal state of conversion by witness. Karl Marx has been the prophet for this faith. His writings served as intellectnal fare, inspiration, sacred and therefore infallible norms.4 The attitude of the So-viet Union vis-a-vis Israel has had the effect of diluting kibbutz Marxism. Bnt in the early years Marx was dog-matic truth. Human failings could be tolerated, but not political differences. Even today, deviations from either basic Marxist concepts or pristine kibbutz ideals offer occasions for schisms and deep polarizations within a par-ticular kibbntz. Faihlre of a given kibbutz to vote "cor-rectly" in a national election is cause for its ejection from the basic kibbutz federation and political party to which it is allied. The Vows Chastity--While there is no binding force of conscience eqnivalent to the traditional religious vows, membership in a kibbutz implies a permanent but not binding commit-ment. Members are free to leave if they lose their "voca-tion," and their departure is mourned in the same way a religious regrets the departnre of a close friend from the Order. The "apostate," however, is welcomed back if he wishes to return. But with this exception of personal freedom for departure, permanent commitment to the group ideal is a sine qua non for a happy kibbutz life. The sexual idealism in the kibbntz movement has II)id., p. 43. Ibid., p. 180. Ibid., p. 184. never been consistent. The Boy Scout concept of purity derives from the Christian ideals of its European and American proponents. The Jewish founders of the kib-butz movement experienced tiffs value as a rejection of the romantic sexual conduct of the European society o~ their youth. They wanted to change the false sexual mo-rality of the city, the patriarchal authority of the male, the dependence of the child on his father, and the subjec-tion of women.~ The sense of "organic community" that the early kib-butzniks experienced as young men and women is related to their freedom from the restrictions imposed upon sex-uality by their contemporary society. They practiced a trial and error, sexual code that included polygyny and polyandry. Mating was entered into at will. But as the original founders aged, their sexual attitudes have be-come surprisingly conventional.6 Pre-marital sex among the school children is actively discouraged. Marriage is today a formal, and often religious, event. Patriarchal ties have returned. The relative affluence of the kibbutzim has ended the era of few or no offspring. This change has been augmented by the population growth stimulus instituted by the Israeli government in response to military manpower requirements connected with national security. Yet casual sex has no moral stigma within kibbutz life, and abortion requests are routinely handled by the kib-butz medical committee. These seeming contradictory ex-periences can be understood only in the context of the general Jewish belief that sexuality is a personal matter, not one of group concern, unless the sexual activity has consequences affecting the community. The Spartan attitude toward sexual abstinence ended when the young men and women who founded the kib-butzim experienced the eroticism engendered by "organic community." This youthful abandon has subsequently matured into a conventional sex-marriage code no differ-ent from that of the general Israeli populace. And with the lack of privacy in the kibbutz as well as the dispropor-tionate amount of social damage that infidelity wreaks in a small community, kibbutz sexnal morality approximates that of any small village. Poverty--Just as sexual morality has had an erratic path in the kibbutz history, so too their attitude toward the possession of material goods. The pristine attitude of the founders was .essentially a negative reaction to the bour-geois mentality of their forefathers in the Jewish communi-ties of Enrope. Ostracized in many instances by the Gentile majority, the Jew was unable to compete for social and n Ibid., p. 54. ~ Ibid., p. 110-117. 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLU~E 30, 1971 785 J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 786 economic prestige with his non-Jewish counterparts. As a result, the ghetto Jew attained personal ego satisfactions in business acumen, especially in areas connected with money where traditional Christian restrictions on usury opened up opportunities. Intellectual pursuits leading to l~rominent positions in the professions were a later development of the 19th and 20th centuries. But the possession of land and agricultural interests were not part of the self-image of the pre-Israel Jew. The rejection of materialism and capitalism are an integral part of the developing kibbutz ideal. The found-ers, were, almost without exception, intellectuals. The idealization of common labor was for them a cultural revolution. Raised in a tradition of prestige and aspira-tion for upward mobility in society, they deliberately chose the reverse. Instead of aspiring to "rise" in the social ladder, they chose to "descend." 7 Having to do without material possessions was both a concomitant of this conscious decision and a result of it. The early kibbutzniks had what Melford Spiro calls "two moral principles." These were (1) the sacral nature of work and (2) the communal possession of property. Labor was to be a uniquely creative act and an ultimate value. Through labor man would become one with himself, with society, with nature.8 The early kibbutzniks experienced this sacral nature of work in their conquest of the desert and the swamps which were the only lands made available to them by the Arab landowners prior to 1948. Those kibbutzim estab-lished after Israel became a State were often located in similar agriculturally disadvantaged areas for strategic reasons. Personal sacrifice and "doing without" were per-sonal virtues that made possible the economic success of the group effort. All personal aspirations and creature comforts had to be subordinated to the common good. With the exception of a few struggling new kibbutzim along the post-1967 borders, this period of sacrifice has passed. Although limits on the amount of water that can be used for cultivation and a crop surplus condition in Israeli agriculture have imposed ceilings on land use, many collectives are maintaining and increasing profita-bility by operating factories which in turn have increased the kibbutz standard of living. The communal facilities that were an economic necessity in the pioneer era have given away to luxury apartments, a private social life, advanced education, extended vacations, and other phe-nomena related to economic well-being. Ideological ascet-icism is not an operative principle in contemporary kib-butz life. Not surprisingly, a great number of the contem- 7 Ibid., p. 14. s Ibid., p. 12. porary problems in the kibbutz movement stem from the vast discrepancy between the physical privations of the early kibbntzim and the high standard of living and expec-tations of the present members. Obedience--In a first glimpse of the organizational strncture of a kibbutz, one would discern little there that reflects the monarchical authority structnre that pervades both Catholic ecclesiastical organizations and the religious orders. The ideal of the kibbutz is total democracy. Execu-tive authority is a delegated power, revocable, and subject to a constant change of personnel. The executive branch functions only to implement group decisions. Each indi-vidual kibbutz is essentially autonomous from the federa-tion to which it belongs. The officers of the federation have no direct antbority over the activities of any mem-ber kibbutz. All decisions are made at the local level by vote and the majority opinion is binding on tbe minor-ity. But no majority is irrevocable. The minority may campaign for a reversal. There is a minority compliance "by necessity" but nothing resembling the "submission of tile understanding." Tile will of the majority has to be obeyed for pragmatic reasons, to preserve the common good. But any decision can be, and often is, reversed. Even certain "essentials" of the founders can be changed if the kibbutz members no longer consider them a cur-rent value, or if the life of the kibbutz itself is at stake by continued adherence to an outdated fundamental princi-ple. The typical kibbutz is closer to the Benedictine model of religions life than to the Jesuit form. Membership in a particular kibbutz is akin to monastic stability. The his-toric connection between the monastery and its fields is similar to the main kibbntz economic enterprise. The kibbutz, like the monastery, has a self-contained cultural environment; library, music, beautification of the grounds, locally produced music and entertainment, and the chapter. Unlike the monastic uadition, no kibbutz has a perma-nent official like that of a life-tenured abbot. Nor do office holders have the long terms allowed by canon law. The kibbutz executive personnel pool is rotated from one ex-ecutive task to another with short interim periods as com-mon laborers. Executive efficiency is somewhat reduced by such rapid turnovers, but the movement prefers this to an entrenched hierarchy. Fnrther, it increases the partici-pation of the membership in decision-making operations of the kibbutz. The nsual term for a kibbutz office is one year.° For a few highly specialized tasks, for example, the treasurer, it runs two years, no more. ~ Ibid., p. 78; see Dan Leon, The Kibbutz, a New Way of Life, Oxford, 1969. 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 787 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '788 In a remarkable number of ways the kibbutz resembles traditional Catholic religious life. A messianic ideological basis of membership is parallel to both.Being a kibbutz-nik is "a way of life" comparable to a religious vocation. The inOividual is expected at times to sacrifice his per-sonal ambitions and opportunities to the group needs. The members' meeting has many of the aspects of a com-munity liturgy, as do the secular celebrations in the kib-butz of the national and religious holidays. Each kibbutz follows a common style of life and the kibbutz is often referred to as an extended family. Aspirants must try out the life and be accepted. They usually must dispose of their material wealth upon admission. There is security for the ill and the infirm. Members are not rewarded economically for their productivity or profitability. The federation to which each kibbutz belongs resem-bles to some extent the province of the religious order. Recruiting of youth leaders, new members, Ulpan stu-dents and vohlnteers are bandied at tbe central level as are contacts with the government and the army. The federation has an internal tax system to equalize income discrepancies between richer and poorer kibbutzim. Most federations have produced a model constitution for their member kibbutzim. Each kibbutz is taxed a number of its members to staff federation offices and overseas re-cruiting posts (missions). The federation, in union with the national trade union, handles both buying and sell-ing cooperatives, runs research centers and regional high schools for kibbntz children.1° Today the federations have joined toget_her to found a centralized kibbutz uni-versity to provide for the increasing number of kibbutz youth who want both a university education and an envi-ronment in which their kibbutz values will be preserved. The arguments used for establishing this new educational effort are ahnost identical to those used in the 19th and 20tb centuries for Catholic high schools and universities. Charity Fraternal love, over and above its function as a crite-rion for true Christianity, has been considered a hallmark of religious life, and a sine qua non of common life. In the "organic community" which the founders of the kib-butzim experienced in their pioneer days in Israel, this same basic group fellowship and fraternal love was pres-ent. The movement was small and each person knew every other member well. They were economically and socially interdependent. Their lives depended on mutual security. They were, as a group, alone in a foreign and (langerous land, cnt off from outside aid. Their bond of friendship was solidified in a common ideology, in oppo-a" Op. cir., Leon, p. 158. sition to the false value system of the world, and in a common enemy, the Arab. These same three basic princi-ples have beeu present in every religious order; some concrete vision of Christianity conceived by their found-ers, the false value system of a pagan or barely Christian world, and the enemy, successively the devil, the pagan Romans, and finally heretics. The passage of time and aging has effected major changes in the first ardor of the kibbutzniks, as it has on the members of many long established religious orders. One kibbutznik reported to Spiro: "The evening meetings, (lances and song, group conversation, and the sharing of experiences--these are the phenomena of youth. The retirement to their own rooms and the substi-tution of private for group experiences is not the result of the influx of stangers . It represents . an inevitable retreat on the part of middle-aged people from the group-centered activities of an adolescent youth move-ment, to interests which are more congenial to their own age--children, friends, and personal concerns." ~x The kibbutz movement has faced up to a reality which hitherto has destroyed practically every ntopian society ever attempted by man, except possibly the Catholic reli-gious orders, the inability to re-create a new man in the institutiug of a new way of life?e Some of the larger kibbutzim have nearly 2000 residents. Only a handful are less than 100. Universal friendship is obviously impossi-ble. Deep interpersonal relationships are cuhivated be-tween husband, wife, and their immediate family. Other close friendships are built around those in neighboring apartments or those whom they meet in work fnnctions. Relationships to other kibbutzniks is functional not per-sonal. Nor does the kibbutz attempt to abolish natural indi-vidual aggressive tendencies. It merely channels them into socially acceptable substitntes. Gossip and petty criti-cism abound. Quarreling, but no physical violence, is common. Skits at community entertainments satirize non-conformists. Aggression is channeled into pride in one's own family, work ability, success of one's economic branch in the kibbutz, and participation in national politics?:~ If universal charity were an essential prerequi-site for the successful functioning of kibbutz society, the movement would have failed long ago. The system has been devised to operate without it, subordinating indi-vidualism to the common good, and substituting for char-ity the personal involvement of each kibbutznik in group decision making. Op. cit., Spiro, p. 216. Ibid., p. 236, 103. Ibid., p. 103-107. + Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 789 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. C. Fleck, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 790 Generation Gap One of the "essentials" of the early kibbutz movement was the communal raising of children. Immediately after birth, the child was placed with his peers and raised by a community appointed nurse. This same system was fol-lowed throughout childhood. Boys and girls of the various kibbutz parents were raised as brothers and sisters. This accounts for the lack of a normal amount of pre-marital sexual activity among young people who live in close proximity even after puberty. Sex activity between boys and girls of the same age groui~ would be incest, an almost unheard of problem in a kibbutz. However, as the young people raised in this communal manner have returned to their kibbutz as full adult members, they have generally asked for a major change in the system. They want to raise their own children at home. Throughout the entire kibbutz movement this issue has been raised. In every federation except the one which is most Marxist-oriented the young people have endetl the absohlte commtmal rearing of the children, Since the young couples were ntu.nerically outnumbered, the process by which they won over the majority opposed to their demands for a revolutionary change proves en-lightening. The kibbutz at Kefar Blum recently under-went such an experience.~4 When the young people pro-posed this radical change they were voted down by an 80-20% vote. When the results were tabulated the young people decided they would leave this kibbutz and found one of their own with their rules. This would eventually lead to the death by attrition of the older kibbutz. Recog-nizing this, the older members formed reconciliation committees designed to keep up the hopes of the young and change the minds of the old. A new vote was taken several weeks after the intial setback. This time the youngster's proposal won by an 80-20 vote. As the government is anxious to form new kibbutzim in border areas, young Israelis can easily become founders of a new kibbutz, sharing the same challenges and oppor-tunities their elders had in the pioneer years. To over-come this possible source of defection of younger mem-bers, most kibbutzim practice rapid advancement of tal-ented young people into positions of responsibility. There is no waiting for years while the entrenched old guard dies off before the young people can achieve posi-tions of authority and adopt new policies in keeping with the needs of the clay. James c. Fleck, s.J., private notes taken during a study of the kibbntz movement, Israel, October-November, 1970. Employment outside the Kibbutz This is a growing phenomenon in the kibbutz move-ment paralleled by an increasing number of religious men and women employed in apostolic work and employ-ment not part of a corporate apostolate. For a kibbutz member to undertake such work he must have commu-nity approval. While many working outside the kibbutz are employed in various federation projects, an increasing number are engaged in "secular" activity, outside indus-try, government, and teaching. Their salary is either paid directly to the kibbotz or turned in to the kibbntz treas-nrer by the individual. One factor not present in snch kibbutz outside employ-ment is the gradual diminishing interest of the individual in his collective during the months and years the man may be working outside the kibbutz. Since Israel is very small, the outside employee almost always lives on the kibbutz with his family and returns there after work. In the case of those stationed in more remote sections of the country, or working in the government or in the army, they return to the kibbutz each Friday night on the Sab-bath eve. This same holds true of kibbutz students study-ing at the university or the technical institute. The mem-bers do not endanger their commitment to the collective way of life by prolonged absence from their kibbutz. Use o~ Money The strictness of control over independent use of money varies according to which federation the kibbutz is affiliated with. Ha Artzi, the most Marxist, is also the strictest. No one may possess any outside money nor is there an internal money system. The other federations are more flexible. In some each member is paid "script" or "kibbutz money" each month to use in lieu of Israeli currency at the kibbutz store for personal items. In others the members have a charge accotmt credited against a monthly allowance. The Ha .drtzi kibbutzim also require all new members to dispose of all property and money they possess after the intitial trial period. Other kibbutzim permit mem-bers to retain previously acquired wealth and even use the money independently of the kibbutz so long as the member does not use any of the money for improving his own life style in the kibbutz. Some demand that members deposit such funds with the kibbutz on a non-interest bearing basis. The money is returned if the new member ever leaves the kibbutz. In most kibbutzim today individual members are given a monthly credit covering items over which he may exer- 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30~ 1971 791 4. 4. 4. J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 792 cise individual discretion, such as clothes, a household allowance, food for one's apartment, and the annual va-cation. In most instances the individual can make substi-tutions that better reflect his own tastes, more money for vacation and less clothes for examples. Housing In the early kibbutz days housing was primitive and inadequate. Many members lived in tents even during the winter months. Toilet and shower facilities were to-tally communal and produced a camaradarie not unlike that of army barracks life or that in athletic teams. Today the norm in most kibbutzim is a 2½ room apart-ment for all married members which usually includes a modern bathroom and also a kitchenette. As individual families are allowed to raise their own children this hous-ing allocation will have to be increased depending on the size of each f;imily, end~mgering the traditional equality of housing facilities. The newest apartments are allocated on a seniority basis which takes into account both the age of the member and the number of years he has belonged to the kibbutz. Expulsion Like any other communal society, on occasions mem-bers whose activities or ideas are not compatible with the group ideal are expelled from membership hy the kib-butz voting at a weekly meeting. Since most dissidents leave freely, expulsions are rare and several kibbutzim report that they are willing to allow expelled members to 'eturn after a probationary period. This tolerance is probably necessary in a communal society where the hus-band and a wife are both members of the kibbutz and when only one of them is expelled from membership. While normally the couple would leave together after expulsion proceedings, it is not unknown for one member to stay on alone since the remaining member's rights are not affected by the expulsion of the spouse. Vohtntary Departures The abandonment of a kibbutz "vocation" almost al-ways involves dissatisfaction on the part of the wife. As women usually work in the institutional housekeeping tasks, they enjoy the least modal satisfaction in their daily work. In many instances, too, the wife has come from outside the kibbutz movement, having married a kibbutz boy she met in the army. Spiro found that nearly every man leaving a kibbutz is prompted by his wife who ulti-mately prewfils in convincing her husband to leave.1'~ '~ Op. cit., Spiro, p. 223. Automobiles There are relatively few automobiles in a kibbutz car pool, since most of the motor vehicles are used for farm work. While most of the equipment consists of trucks and tractors, there are usually several private cars for officials whose work takes them into the city and for those mem-bers working outside the kibbutz. When not being used for official business, these cars are available, theoretically, for common use. Some abuses have been reported in the area of private possessiveness by those assigned private cars, but there seems to be no. widespread dissatisfaction. This is attributable in part to the convenience of public transportation throughout the country as well as the kib-bntz tradition of attending outside social functions as groups, transported by trucks fitted out with temporary seats, When an individual does have the use of a commu-nity car he is charged a mileage fee. Each member is allocated an annual kilometer allowance. He may pool this with other couples for extended trips and usually may transfer other credits from his monthly allowance toward a larger mileage usage of the private car. Mileage is charged only against personal use of the car, not for travel on kibbutz business. Clothing The federation Ha drtzi follows a policy of specifying in detail the clothes members may receive each year. A man gets a coat once every five years; a pair of pants, sweater, or jacket every year; a shirt every year. These rations are for Sabbath or dress clothes. Work clothes and shoes are issued as needed. The kibbutzim of the other federations normally assign a cash allowance for clothing, permitting the members to decide for themselves the kind of clothing they prefer. In the early days of the kibbutz movement each kib-butz had a common stock of clothing. The clothing was distributed without regard to sizes and washed without laundry marks. Each person wore what chance provided. But variations in size presented insuperable problems. The system was changed to grant each member personal possession of his own clothing. Radio and TV At first every kibbutz had a communal radio room. But as radios became cheaper, more and more members re-ceived them as gifts and kept the radios for their own private apartments. Today, a radio is considered a per-sonal item. Now there is in each kibbutz a TV room. As TV has become a part of the Israeli cnlture attendance in the TV + + + Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 793 4" 4" ~. C. Fleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 794 lounge is large. Bnt the limited broadcasting schedule and restriction of available channels has not yet made ¯ selection of the program to be watched a major commu-nity concern. There is, nonetheless, growing pressure for permitting members to have their own TV sets in their private apartments. Illness, Old Age, Death All kibbutzniks are covered tinder the national health service. In case of extraordinary expenses, such as special-ized foreign medical treatment, the kibbutz pays all costs for its members. In one sitnation recently at kibbutz Kefar Blum where open heart surgery bad to be per-formed in the United States on the daughter of one mem-ber and the kibbutz income was below normal, the ment-bets voted to meet the high surgical costs by voting out the annual household improvements and vacations and to substantially rednce the cigarette expenditures. Women are given rednced working hours during preg-nancy, and the required daily hours of work are progres-sively reduced as members age. But no one, except the infirm, is every really retired. Every member, as long as he lives, is expected to remain economically productive to the extent that his health allows. This minimum may be simply the caring for the roses in front of his apartment, but it is expected. Recently many kibbutzim have established actuarial funds to provide cash income for members during their old age. There are two reasons: (1) they believe there is a psychological need for infirm and retired people to feel that they are not a financial drain on the younger mem-bers; (2) there is concern over a possible future age imbal-ance. Since every member is always free to leave, some internal crisis in the kibbutz conld result some day in all the younger and productive members leaving the kibbutz, thus depriving the aged of the "living social security" provided by the younger members. At death members are buried simply in the kibbutz cemetery. Luxuries The tents and the tar-paper shacks that once housed the kibbutzniks have given way to modern concrete apart-ments, some with air-conditioning. The housing and fur-nishings for the average kibbutznik compare favorably with those of comparably skilled workmen in Israel's cit-ies. Depending on tastes and family skills, some kibbutz apartments approach lfigb fashion in their appearance. The women have modern stoves and refrigerators to feed their families at home when they wish. There are, as yet, no private telephones, TV, or automobiles. Work Tasks Ill general, inembers are allowed and encouraged to work in the particular department that they like best. The actual assignment is made by the work manager, but great care goes into making sure each member is happy. ~,'Vork assignments, like everything else in the kib-butz, is subject to the scrutiny of the weekly meeting. Assignment to disliked tasks sometimes has to be made by collective action. The individual assigned to such is expected to subordinate his own wishes to those of the community. In most cases the onerous jobs are assigned for short periods of time and given to a wide segment of the membership. Some tasks, such as kitchen clean-up and waiting table, are so universally disliked they have to be allotted in strict rotation. Candidates [or membership, tile U/pan students, and the temporary volunteers are almost always assigned to those tasks the regular members most dislike. Committees The Executive is a committee consisting of those mem-bers holding key administrative jobs and some "ministers without portfolio." The term of office on the Executive coincides with the term of their administrative job, one or two years at most. Tile Executive consists of six or seven members. These members are drawn from a pool of the acknowledged leaders in the kibbutz who rotate in and Out Of the more important leadership posts. Besides this top executive committee, there are myriad others covering every aspect of kibbutz life. Approxi- ~nately 50% of the members of a kibbutz are serving on some committee at any given time. Over a three year span, practically 100% of the membership participates in some committee work. There are a few who have opted out of this participatory democracy and refuse to serve on any committee. These few have narrowed their kibbutz lives to their work and their immediate family.~ The Apostolate The kibbutz serves two specific economic functions. It is both a commtmal productive society and a communal consumptive society. These two functions are coalesced into one organic community. There is in Israel another type of collective called the Moshave, where there is a communal productive system but private ownership in the consumption area. But for the kibbutznik the Marx-ist axiom "from each according to his ability and to each according to his need" dictates that their communal so- ~" Up. cit., Leon, p. 67. ÷ ÷ Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 795 + + + J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 796 ciety must combine the collective control of both produc-tion and consumption. Kibbutzim have been tried in the past in the cities where the members worked totally in outside industry and the kibbutz was formed primarily as a consumption society. Every attempt along this line has failed. There is in Jerusalem at this time a group who are hoping to organize a commune of professional people as a consump-tive kibbutz. But kibbutzniks do not expect this move-ment to succeed. They view the total integration of the community into both production and consumption as necessary for the survival of community life. The kibbutz in Israel is primarily an agricultural eco-nomic movement. The success of this movement in at-tracting and holding members can be attributed to the historical conditions which led the original founders to abandon the metropolises of Europe. They became en-chanted with nature, an enchantment which anyone who has ever had a hackyard vegetable garden or even a flower pbt in a window will understand. The grower as well as what is grown becomes in some psychological way a part of the basic life cycle of nature. Akin to this is the psychic reward a teacher sometimes feels as he watches his students grow and mature. The farmer, and to some ex-tent the teacher, become united to the invisible power of life itself. In recent years the kibbutz movement has added facto-ries to increase the standard of living, otherwise limited by crop quotas and water restrictions. These factories also provide a more satisfactory employment for those mem-bers technically inclined who would otherwise abandon the farm life of the kibbutz for industrial employment in the city. There are, however, fewer modal satisfactions in this type of work. Marx and a host of other analysts have noted the inherent alienation process at work in the fac-tory system. To some extent the kibbutz factories have disproved Marx's theory that this ~ense of alienation ex-perienced by factory workers can be overcome by com-munal ownership. Like the disliked jobs in the kitchen, most dull assembly line duties must be filled with hired casual labor or low cost volunteers. The External Enemy In traditional Catholic terminology the enemy of Christianity and therefore of Catholic religious orders was the world, the flesh, and the devil. In each era these primordial forces are concretized into existential realities. As such they are a motive for both joining and remaining a member of a religious order. It should be noted that this is a negative motive, and almost always found in conjunction with a positive aspect, namely the apostolate. The kibbutz movement has had equiwdent motivation: anti-semitism, the European bourgeois society, capitalism, the false wdue system of the city, Hitler, Nasser, and the Arab world. These are the kibbutz's world, flesh, and devil. There seems to have been a direct relationship between the presence, or perhaps more accurately an awareness of this presence, and the motivation for mem-bership in the kibbutz. Membership figures in kibbutz history show a positive correlation between increased membership and the danger from some facet of the exter-nal enemy. Since 1967 the kibbutz membership has shown its first marked increase in nearly two decades as the government, in the wake of the Six Day war, has begun to establish new kibbutzim in Syria, along the Jordan river in former Arab territory, and in the Sinai. Conclusions The ideological fervor of the early kibbutz movement that Spiro connected so intrinsically with classical Marx-ism has withered considerably in the Israeli kibbutzim. The kibbutz has become a desirable form of agricnltural life, not gracious but certainly pleasant. This is especially true for the Sabra, the young children of the kibbutz who accept kibbutz life as a natural and wholesome place to live, work, and raise their families. They are not espe-cially ideologically motivated despite great efforts by the kibbutz educational programs to continue the motivating principles of the kibbutz founders. Kibbutz membership still adds lustre and prestige to politicians and military leaders, something like the "log cabin" birth-place of 19th century American presidents. But the increasing "westernization" of Israel is rapidly diminishing the ego satisfaction of kibbutzniks, whose vocation was once considered the national ideal. The increasing standard of living is also having its effect. Except for work and meals in the common dining hall, there is little "common" living on an Israeli kib-butz. The family has replaced the commune as the center of interest of the members. The replacement of com-munal showers and toilets by private ones is a sign of increased privatization. The trend away from communal ownership in the consumptive sector is clear and likely irreversible. To some extend the Marxist Ha Artiz federation has most successfi~lly resisted these individualistic tendencies. But Marxist ideology has been so closely associated with the now discredited Soviet system (discredited not for intrinsic principles but because of Soviet foreign policy in the Middle East), that there is little evident grass-roots Marxist ideological fervor among the Artzi members. Thus the basic Messianic ideology is no longer an opera- 4, 4, 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 797 + + + ]. C. Fleck, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 798 tive principle in the kibbutz movement, although some lip service is still paid to it in the literature of the move-ment. The religious fervor is gone; and, as has been shown in tiffs study, the ascetic principles of the Wandervogel Movement have also slowly eroded. Only the presence of a dangerous external enemy remains as a major factor in maintaining the kibbutz as kibbntz. For the kibbutzniks, there is a growing interest in the Israeli culture outside the barbed wire barriers of the kibbutz boundaries. Tel Aviv, Jernsalem, the beaches at Asbkalon, the symphony, the movie theatres, and jobs in outside industries are no longer an evil "world," an eneiny to be avoided. With both Hitler and Nasser dead, the Arab masses remain a clearly perceived danger, and a sufficient cause justifying the sacrifices intrinsically connected with living a com-munal life. The increasing toleration of personal prop-erty by kibbutz melnbers shows that the original kibbutz asceticism was a necessity of the moment, a means not an end. Taken altogether these factors indicate a shaky fu-tnre for the kibbutz movement in the long rtm. Only the miniscnle religious federation seems to have the tran-scendent valnes that will hold this gronp of kibbutzim together. This segment of the kibbutz movement has a proven long-run ideology, their Jewish Orthodox Faith and perduring external enemies, the secular Israeli state. For Roman Catholic religious gronps these principles of the kibbutz movement can indicate the hazards of certain contemporary trends in Catholic religious com-munities. There seems to be a serious drawback to any community in ending the integral connection between the conamunity apostolate and the common life, between the production and consumption activities. X,Vbatever the legal advantages of separate incorporation of the apos-tolic endeavor, it appears such a change may prove dys-functional to the best interests of the community unless some psychological identification can replace the legal one tying the commonity members to a common aposto-late. Otherwise the religious will become mere employees of their former vocational apostolate. Like kibbutz asceticism, the vows, traditional forms of Cbristifin asceticism, are also increasingly seen as merely ~neans which can and in some instances should be aban-doned as a condition for membership in the group, or for individnal apostolic effectiveness. The trend in substitut-ing community for poverty as the true significance of this evangelical counsel, presages many of the problems the kibbutzim have experienced in their trend toward more and more priw~tization and increasing personal property. At the moment Roman Catholics have no apparent "external enemies" of snfficient threat to bind members and aspirants to religious communities to the requisite personal sacrifices basic to any communal effort. Ecumen-ism has replaced enmity in relating to Protestantism. In-carnational theology no longer sees the world as a "valley of tears." Unity of doctrine is no longer a characteristic of the orders, or even theChurch. Increasing numbers of religious seek employment in secular jobs or outside the order's organized apostolates. The religious life no longer commands the prestige it once bad among the faithful. Tbe kibbutz movement has also shown several possibil-ities that have been traditionally lacking in Catholic reli-gious orders. A communal society of married conples is clearly possible and in some cqntemporary aspects possi-bly superior (in personal fulfilhnent and interpersonal love) to the celibate life. While the structures of existing religious communities do not seem likely to encompass this facet of communal life, it would not be surprising to see new communities of married religious come into exist-ence in the not too distant future. Another wdue of the kibbutz movement is the seeming success of communal groups based on a total democratic process. There are already some indications that the traditionally monarchi-cal religious orders are already moving swiftly to a capi-tular form of government. In most cases the founders of the majority of the Israeli kibbutzim are still alive and to some extent still reflecting the charism that marked the foundation of their commu-nity. Yet it appears that the "routinization of their cha-risma" is not likely to be overly successful. The ideological and "religious" sonrce of the kibbutz movement has al-ready given way to a rapid "secularization" of values by the second generation whose devotion to the kibbutz is either pragmatic or cultural. The positive inspiration of Zionism that has so effec-tively supported the establishment of a Jewish State will certainly diminish in time. Antisemitism is not a motive in a Jewish state, and thus not operative on the Sabra. If and when the Arab situation is normalized, the Kibbutz "external enemy" will also have disappeared. The pris-tine Marxist ideology has been snbject to constant revi-sion, and a wide range of personal and public views are now tolerated among kibbutzniks. The long range prognosis for the kibbutz movement is one of no sizeable growth and more than likely a rapid diminishing of the movement once peace comes to Israel. The small number o[ religious kibbutzim should remain active, as well as a limited number run by convinced Marxists. But the kibbutz movement as a whole will likely prove to have been a temporarily significant social structure in Israeli history due to the particular condi-tions that Jews faced in the 19th and 20th centuries. ÷ ÷ Kibbutzim VOLUME ~0, 1971 799 If this analogy between the kibbutz movement and Catholic religious community life is correct, and if the same present trends continne in both institutions, there is a reasonable predictability that many if not most of the present religion,s commonities may be viewed from some future historical perspective as having served the Church's vital needs effectively up to the end of the 20th century. "!" 4" 4- J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOI, JS 8O0 SISTER CHARLOTTE HANNON, S.N.D. DE N. The Graying of America The far left, the far right, the in-betweeners, the libs and the cons, the silent majority and the articttlate mi-nority have reached a consensus on one point at least-- they all agree that "Darling, you are grown older." Laughingly we sing the line at birthday parties and re-unions, but behind the laughter there is the realization that okt age and retirement are major concerns that warrant major consideration. If Toeffler in Future Shock has clone nothing else, he has alerted ns to the need for planning ahead. Last August and November the Finance Retirement Committee of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur of the Maryland Province sent out 415 questionnaires to religious communities across the country. The returns are interesting and informative as the following table indi-cates: Questionnaires sent out . 415 Questionnaires returned . 271 Retirement Plans in operation . 100 No Retirement Plan in operation . 171 Most of the communities in the last category are anxious to know what others are doing about retirement planning, and they indicate a need to begin making plans as soon as possible. Retirement Age and Status The majority of congregations state that they have no "fixed" age for retirement. They agree that the person himself, his state of health, his vitality, mental and physi-cal stamina--all these factors mnst be considered on an individual basis. Although 65 years is mentioned as a possible age/'or part-time retirement, 70 is the time when most religious begin to think seriously abont retiring. Studies show that the life-span of religious exceeds that of the ordinary layman by five to nine years. If there is difference of opinion about a specific age, there is deft-nitely consensns on retirement status. All agree with the statement from the "Older Americans Act," Article 10: 4- 4- Sister Charlotte is Director of Re-search and Funding for the Sisters of Notre Dame de Na-mur; Ilchester, Maryland 21083. VOLUME ~0, 1971 801 + ÷ ÷ St. Charlotte REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 802 "Older Americans or Senior Citizens should be permitted the free exercise of individual initiative in planning and managing one's own life for independence and freedom." Such thinking, of course, originates in the basic Christian
Issue 22.5 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Personal Integrity and Intellectual Obedience If only through what we may term'a nebulous feeling of supernatural discomfort, no thoughtful religious long escapes the knotty problems implied in his reasoned re-actions to his superior's directives. Sooner or later he wonders how the perfection of obedience could possibly and honorably require that he judge to be wise and prudent what he may on occasion strongly feel to be un-wise and imprudent. Some of the implications of this complex question we have explored in two previous articles.1 The interest shown in these questions together with the oral and epistolary discussions consequent on them have prompted us to propose several additional problems and to seek suitable solutions to them. The Problems Religious superiors, like the rest of humankind, usu-ally do not know what we may call the content of the divine will. As I type this sentence I cannot be certain that objectively speaking this is what God prefers me to be doing at this moment. When a major superior as-signs a religious to teach the tenth grade, he cannot be sure that such is precisely the divine preference for this particular religious. In both of these cases all we can know is that our action, and our intentions are good. At times we may be reasonably assured that the action we contemplate is in its concrete circumstances better than some other, but even then we do not see how God judges the situation. Does not our inability to know the content of God's will render pointless the whole concept of intellectual obedience? Is the subject supposed to conform his judg- 1"Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience," R~w~w FOR RrLtO~OOS, v. 19 (1960), pp. 67-76, and "The Superior's Precept and God's Will," REVIEW FOR RELmXOOS, v. 20 (1961), pp. 435--41. 4, 4" Thomas Dubay, S.M., is the spiritua director at Notr. Dame Seminary' 2901 South Carroll ton Avenue; Ne~ Orleans 18~ Louisi aria. VOLUME 22, 196~ 49~ ÷ + ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4:9,1 ment to the superior's judgment because the latter is somehow expressing the thought of God when he com-mands? And if the superior is not expressing the divine mind, why should one try to think as he thinks? Meaning of Intellectual Obedience Before we wrestle with these questions, we should per. haps review the fundamental principles involved. And among them we may recall first of all that intellectual obedience implies the attempt of a subject to see the wisdom of his superior's decision. While it does not re-quire a man to call black white when his superior is manifestly wrong, yet it is more than an assent to the mere proposition that God wills the non-sinful act of compliance. This latter assent plainly is not a conformity to the thought of the superior (as the classical concept of intellectual obedience would have it) or even an at-tempt at conformity (with which the classical concept would be content when more is not possible). Agreeing that God wills execution of a given command is nothing more than an assent to a universally received principle of Catholic theology: God wills obedience to legitimately constituted authority. Intellectual obedience according to the formulation of St. Ignatius .Loyola in his well known letter (from which Pius XII said we may not depart) requires that the subject "think the same, submitting his own judg-ment to the Superior's, so far as a devout will can incline the understanding." And hence in the many matters in which evidence is not coercive, "every obedient man should bring his thought into conformity with the thought of the Superior" (America Press edition, ;~ 9). This doctrine presents no problem when the subject possesses a founded certitude that his superior is either right or wrong. In the first case his judgment is con-formed by the very seein~ that the direction is correct, and in the second there is no need to try to conform to what is obviously false. The problem arises in debatable matters, matters in which an honest and objective man will agree that there may be something to be said for each of two or more opposing views. Since the evidence in these cases.is not coercive, a religious practices in-tellectual obedience when he makes a serious attempt to see reasons ~or the superior's view as well as for his own. We spont.aneously conjure up reasons for our own opinions, and so intellectual honesty hardly requires much effort regarding this half of the situation. But we do not spontaneously think up reasons for an opposing opinion, and so effort is requisite if we are to be co~n-pletely open. While this effort should be made in our disagreements with any man, it is especially needful in the relationship of the subject to his superior. Because of the position the latter holds as a representative of divine authority and because we may presume that this representafive re-ceives divine help in the exercise of his office (not, how-ever, a help that makes him infallible), the ftillriess of religious obedience bespeaks an especial effort to agree with his thought insofar as honesty permits and a devout will can bring it about. When a good religious, therefore, receives an unpalatable directive, this third and highest degree of obedience suggests that he make an earnest at-tempt to see his superior's point of view whenever the matter is important enough to consider motives at all. Man's Knowledge of the Divine Will From the point of view of the divine will, we may re-call to what extent a conformity is possible and in what sense a superior may be said to manifest that will. A man's will is materially conformed to God's when he wills precisely what God wills. If God were to give him a pri-vate revelation indicating exactly what He wished done at a given time and if the recipient of the revelation carried out the command, there would be a material con-formity. In this case the person's activity would corre-spond exactly with what we have called the content of the divine will. On a moment's reflection one can easily see that a material conformity known to be such is usu-ally impossible. A man simply does not know as a ,rule precisely what God knows to be the preferable course of action together with the circumstances that should sur-round the action. A religious superior is no exception to this limitation on our knowledge of the divine intellect and will. Frequently the superior cannot know that this directive or that is exactly what God would like done at this time and in these circumstances. And if the superior cannot know, neither can the subject. Formal conformity, however, is another matter. It re-fers to the motives one has in doing whatever he does. A man conforms his will to God's when he refers what he does to the divine good. Such is the conformity that St. Paul taught when he enunciated the command that we do all for the motive of God's glory: "Whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor 10:31). While we often cannot know the content of the divine good pleasure and therefore cannot be sure whether or not we possess a material conformity to it, we can always know the motive with which we are to act, and thus we can be sure that we possess a formal con-formity. Hence, even thongh I cannot be sure that my proposal to give ten dollars to this particular poor man is the best thing I could do with the money (God may 4- 4- 4- Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 196.,1 495 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 well know some other better way in which I could use it) and even though as a consequence I do not know whether my will is materially conformed to His, yet if a~ a matter of fact I do give the gift out of love for God I am sure that my will is formally harmonized with His. And this is all that I am commanded to do in the situa-tion. I am bound to have the right motive for whatever good act I perform. When all this, then, is applied to religious obedience, it means that a superior usually does not know the con-tent of the divine will and consequently may or may not be commanding-, in material accord with it. From the point of view of the subject obeying, this does not matter. God does will that he carry out the precept as long as there is no evil in it. (We must notice that in this prac-tical execution of the command material conformity is always possible and commendable, that is, conformity to that content of the divine will which has revealed that it wants men to obey their superiors.) Furthermore, the subject should possess the formal element, the proper motive for obeying, which proximately is the authority of the superior and ultimately the ordering of his obedi-ence to the divine goodness by charity: Suggested Solutions We are now prepared for the first of our problems. Why should a religious try to make his judgment regard-ing some precept conform to his superior's judgment when he is not even sure that the latter's represents the content of the divine will? How can the constitutions of some religious congregations admonish members that they should make their superior's judgements their own, that they should "obey" even the superior's thought inso-far as such is possible? In answering these questions several principles must be borne in mind. First of all, any man is bound by mere natural honesty to conform his mind to the truth insofar as he is able. No one has a right to entertain error. He may have a right to immunity from attack because he is in error, but this is not to say that he has a right to cling to the error. There can be no right to what is unreal. Secondly, in a'genuine difference of opinion between two persons in which difference the truth is not definitely established with 'an objective certitude, honesty demands that any man make a sincere effort to see the reasons for the other's view. Any man is bound to weigh the other man's reasons as well as his own. Any other procedure is mere prejudice. Hence, the demand of intellectual obedi-ence that a subject try to see that his superior's directive is wise is no intrusion on his human dignity or intel-lectual integrity. On the contrary, this perfection of obedience is protective both of intellectual humility and of integrity since it aids a man in divorcing himself from his often inordinate attachment to his own opinion. It opens his mind to other views and other opinions. Hence, this fundamental honesty by which we give a sympathetic consideration to the intellectual position of another is common both to the subject-superior relationship and to the ordinary man-to-man relationship. Yet there is a difference. There must be a difference. Otherwise, we could hardly speak of the attempt a re-ligious makes to conform his judgment to that of his superior as a distinct degree of obedience. But what is the difference? What is the difference between Brother X and Sister Y trying to look sympathetically upon their superiors' decisions and these same two persons attempt-ing to discuss a question of politics or philosophy in an unprejudiced manner? In both situations there is a pursuance of truth, an effort to maintain intellectual in-tegrity. The solution to this problem is difficult, admittedly difficult. And we frankly confess that we are not at all sure that our solution is adequate. We think that it is correct as far as it goes, but we are not sure that it says all that needs to be said. We believe that there are two reasons why a religious' attempt to see his superior's decision as feasible and cor-rect is something over and above this same religious' ef-fort to see a differing view in an ordinary discussion. The first "something over and above" is the supernatural posi-tion of the superior. While he remains a weak, imperfect, and entirely fallible human being, an ecclesiastical su-perior does occupy in the supernatural society which is the Church a position which is ultimately derived from God Himself. As Pope Pius XII rightly observed, the authority by which religious superiors rule is a participa-tion in the divinely received authority possessed by the Roman Pontiff. Therefore, while the religious superior does remain fallible, and sometimes sadly fallible, yet his dispositions and directions enjoy an ontological rank that other dispositions and directions do not enjoy. This basis and rank are the foundation for a new reason over and above intellectual humility and integrity why a sub-ject should seek to view his superior's disposition sym-pathetically and seek, if possible, to conform his judg-ment to it. A second reason is based on the relationship between the first and second degrees of obedience with the third, that is, the relationship between execution of the com-mand (first degree) and conformity of will (second de-gree) with the submission of intellect (third degree). A mere reflection on the psychology of obedience indicates ÷ + Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 498 that the perfection with which a man executes a directive and with which he conforms his intention to that of his superior will ordinarily be dependent on his intellecttial agreement or disagreement with the judgment implied in the directive. Our point is not that the typical religious will not execute a command unless he sees its wisdom but that he often will not execute it as per[ectly when he believes it to be unwise or foolish. Our point is also that he will find conformity of the will, that is, really wanting to carry out this command, much more difficult when the precept appears to him unfeasible. A religious priest whose superior directs him to teach a course which he judges to be of flimsy value hardly throws himself ir, to the task of doing an excellent job with it. He teaches the course, yes. But unless he is a man of rare virtue, he cuts at least some minor corners with it. A sister who is asked to organize a testing program that seems to her ineffectual is an unusual person if she does not experi-ence difficulty in wanting to organize it. Because there is a lack of intellectual harmony between these religious and their superiors, harm is done to the first and second degrees of their obedience. This fact affords us another reason over and above mere open-mindedness why a subject should seek to see the wisdom of his superior's decisions and to conform his judgment to them. If our analysis is correct, it seems to follow that intel-lectual obedience is rooted in the will. The conformity on this third level is, of course, found in the intellect; but the force moving the intellect toward it is the will. This observation is not surprising when we consider that the "moving-moved" relationship is the case even with the execution of a command. The actual operation of teach-ing or sweeping is executed by the other faculties, while the moving role is that of the will. We may speak, there-fore, of obedience of the intellect because it is the in-tellect in the third degree of obedience that is harmo-nized with the intellect of the superior, even though it is the will that moves it to the harmony. There remains another facet to this problem, or, if one prefers, another problem. Granted that we have in-dicated two reasons over and above mere intellectual honesty why a subject should attempt to see his superior's view, we must yet discover what guarantee of truth can be offered that will justify the subject's conformity. After all, is not evidence the fundamental criterion of truth; and if we are going to ask a religious to hold a precept as prudent or feasible, do we not have to assure him of its validity on the basis of objective evidence? And if a religious superior has no divine guarantee that his di-rections conform to the objective truth of things, how can one rightly ask another to harmonize his intellect with them? This is no easy problem. In answer to it ~ve must first, remark that no one is asking a subject to extend the value of his intellectual assent beyond available evidence. We do not suggest that a religious ought to make a certain judgment that his superior is correct ~vhen there simply is no irrefragable evidence that he is correct, nor do we feel that the sub-ject should entertain a judgment of higher value than his superior entertains. If the superior only thinks that this course of action is feasible, surely the subject is not re-quired by intellectual obedience to be sure that it is such. As a matter of fact, the latter would be a difformity, not a conformity. We may observe, likewise, that in many of the disposi-tions made in a religious community neither the superior nor the subject can be prudently sure that a particular course of action is the most feasible. An autocratic su-perior may act as though he is certain that his decisions are the only reasonable ones; but this does not, of course, mean that they are. How often can one know with complete certitude that a given sister should teach the third grade rather than the fifth or that a brother should specialize in history rather than in political sci-ence or that a priest should serve on the mission band rather than on a parish staff? Many of us may entertain strong opinions in such matters, but few could offer in most cases objective evidence that one decision alone is reasonable or even the best possible. It would seem, then, that intellectual obedience frequently does not require a certain assent. But we think that it often requires an opinionative assent, that is, an assent that holds a proposition to be probably true because based on one or more solid mo-tives. Two reasons suggest this statement. First, when an intelligent man or woman (we refer to the superior) decides on a course of action, one may usually presume that there is at least one solid motive behind it that would found at least an opinionative judg-ment that the decision is a prudent one. Secondly, the superior himself usually judges his directive as at least probably correct; and so il~ he can find some good reason for it, the subject of good will should frequently be able to find it also. The first reason bears on extrinsic evidence (authority), the second on intrinsic. Is a guarantee required for the objective truth or wis-dom of the command? Must the superior in looking for intellectnal obedience in his subjects offer them some guarantee that he is at least probably if not certainly right in his dispositions? Although the two questions ÷ ÷ ÷ Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 499 4. 4. + Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 500 may look equivalent, we would answer yes to the first and no to the second. No man can rightly give an intellectual assent to a proposition unless he has some motive pro-portioned to the quality of his assent. I do not proceed in an orderly fashion when I judge to be certain an as-sertion for which I have only probable evidence or when I hold an opinion with not even probable evidence. Hence, a religious need not judge his superior to be surely correct when he can see only probable reasons in favor of the command. When the subject can see no intrinsic reason in favor of the precept's feasibility (and such is rare, indeed), he should either refrain from judg-ing it altogether or base his opinionative judgment that it is feasible on the mere fact that his superior thinks, it so. In this second case he rests on extrinsic authority or evidence. His intellectual honesty is preserved in that he has not made a certain assent, and his obedience is per-fect in that he has made every reasonable effort to bring his judgment into accord with that of his superior. A superior is not ordinarily bound to offer the guar-antee for the assent his subject is to give to his disposi-tions. It would be unreasonable to expect one in author-ity to explain his reasons every time he decides upon some course of action. And it happens occasionally that natural secrecy prevents him from disclosing why he acts as he does. Yet at the same time we feel that often, if not usually, a superior should spontaneously offer reasons for his directives when they are out of the ordinary or when they are especially susceptible to misunderstanding. would even say that unless secrecy forbids it, a superior ordinarily does well to let the reasons for his commands be known whenever an intelligent subject could not l easily conclude to them and when the matter is impor-tant enough to go into them at all. Otherwise, it is dif-ficult to see how the subject could give an intelligentl assent or bring his judgment into line with that of hisJ superior except perhaps by a sheer act of will. As we have just hinted in the preceding paragraph,, all of our above attempts to give a reasonable account the roots of intellectual obedience as it bears on the ob-jective order of things are directed toward cases in whichl an agreement with the superior's mind is called for. There are many cases in the ordinary living of the re ligious life in which the directions given are not impor tant enough even to concern oneself about a conformity~ of judgment. In these it is rather blind obediertce thai is indicated: the willed execution without any thoughi as to why the command is given. We hardly think tha, a sister who has been asked by her superior to serve a.~ companion for another on a trip to town should bothei about trying to discover the rightness of the request o~ why it was made. Such scrutiny too easily lends itself to pettiness. Our above discussion rather envisions more important matters in which a religious should know his superior's mind that he may all the better carry it out. How, then, may we answer the questions with which we began? Does our inability to know the content of the divine will render meaningless the whole concept of in-tellectual obedience? It the superior is perhaps not ex-pressing the divine mind when he commands, is there any point in the subject trying to conform his judgment to that of his superior? Man's inability to know the divine mind in many of the practical details of human lille does not render mean-ingless the widely received principles of intellectual obe-dience. The religious is not assenting to his superior's direction as though it were an infallible oracle, nor is he judging that it is the only possibly reasonable disposition of the matter. Precisely because we reject the notion that a superior is revealing the content of the divine mind do we dissolve at the same stroke that other mistaken notion that in intellectual obedience the subject is assenting to a certain proposition known as such by God. Rather is the subject merely trying to put his whole being, intellect as well as will and body, into a harmony with his su-perior, a man who takes the place of God for him. And this attempt at harmonization implies no violence to in-tellectual integrity for the simple reason that it rests on evidence, either intrinsic or extrinsic. We may conclude, then, that the religious who prac-tices perfectly all three degrees of obedience integrates rather than disintegrates his personality. He executes di-rectives promptly and wholly, and thus establishes a new contact with God who has parceled out some of His supreme authority to men. He wants to carry out the precept because he sees the divine authority in a human instrument, and thus he places himself in the genuine stream of what is. He attempts to set his intellect in ac-cord with his superior's, and thus he simultaneously maintains intellectual integrity and submits his supreme faculty to the divine order. And all this is done through supernatural charity. This is sanctity because it is reality. ÷ ÷ ÷ In~ellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 501 PAUL HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P., is the chaplain at Rosaryville; Pon-chatoula, Louisiana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~02 We are all very conscious that charity inspires us .to give help to others, but have we ever realized that char-ity also inspires us to ask for help? St. Thomas Aquinas was well aware of this. He writes, for example, to a prince: "Your charity has asked me to reply in writing to your question. It is not proper that the requests which charity faithfully offers be refused by a friend.'u Thomas realized so well that charity seeks help as well as gives it, because he knew from experience what unity in lively charity can be. Living in the golden age of the Order of Preachers, when community life was fully synonymous with life in charity, when mutual charity penetrated everything, Thomas daily experienced char- ~ty at its best. Charity was a mutual give and take in per-fect spontaneity. Those early friars knew well the spirit behind St. Augustine's command in their rule: "Call nothing your own, but let all things be held in common among you." In the thinking of Augustine, this statement applied not only to material goods but to whatever the Christian has, whether material or spiritual, whether gifts of grace or talents of nature. Augustine was remarkably conscious of the unity of all Christians in Christ, of how all live one same life together in Him. For example, constrasting his own intensely active life as a bishop with the leisurely contemplation of a monk to whom he is wri(ing, Augustine says: "We are one body under one head, so that you are busy in me, and I am at leisure in you" (PL 33:187). Because I am one with Christ, what Christ is doing in you He is doing for me. And because you are one with Christ, what Christ is do-ing in me He is doing for you. We are one body with many functions of one life. We are one mystical person in Christ. Elsewhere Augustine writes: "Whatever my brother has, is mine, if I do not envy and if I love. I do not have it in myself, but I have it in him. It would not be mine, if we were not in one body under one Head." x Martin Orabmann, The Interior Lile o] St. Thomas Aquinas (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951), p. 9. In this unity of life in Christ, this one life in love, the mutual sharing of spiritual and material goods is love in action. Love receives as well as gives, love asks as well as grants. If the bond of love makes us consider that our brother's needs are our own and inspires us to supply him with what he needs, that same bond of love does not hesitate in appealing to our brother's love for help. Our appeal is based upon our love for him and his love for us. It is only right that what we expect him to grant in char-itY should be requested in that same charity so that both the asking and the giving are an exercise and a strength-ening of the bond of love. Our blessed Savior sets a beautiful example of these things in dealing with the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well. In His love for the woman, He desires to do her a service; but good psychologist that He is, He knows that her pride will resent His offer of help. And not merely because in her particular case pride will resent the un-veiling of her sin but because human beings in general like to be independent and do not care to admit that they need others. Their pride instinctively resents anyone who tries to help them. We have all experienced at one time or another the pain of having our charity rebuffed. And therefore when Jesus wishes to do this woman a service, instead of immediately offering help to her, He begins by requesting help from her. He knows how valu-able a request for help can be in establishing good rela-tions among people. Rather than give her pride an op-portunity to resent His help, He appeals to what is best in her human nature. Human nature was made for love. But love's proper act is to give. To win the woman's good will and love, Jesus gives her the opportunity to give to Him. He asks her to do Him a service: "Give me to drink" (Jn 4:10). His humble request and His need immediately wins her sympathy and benevolence. Upon the initial good will which she thus manifests, Jesus proceeds to build an eternal friendship. By humbly accepting the service of her love, He leads her humbly to accept His love in re-turn, His love with its gift of "living water" springing up into a divine love, binding her to Him in an everlast-ing friendship. This is the apostolic technique which Jesus teaches to His apostles. Christian charity has to be mutual, love has to be a response to love. From the prospective convert the apostle must draw forth some sort of love, even if it is only an act of natural benevolence towards him. Grace, seizing upon this, can transform it into some-thing divine. Since man was made for love and love's proper act is to give, if we would set up a bond of love between our-÷ ÷ Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 selves and our fellow we must give him the opportunity to give to us. We must win his benevolence and sym-pathy by humbling ourselves before him in need. Love knows how to receive as well as give. Is not the recogn:i-tion of another's need a natural incentive to sympathy and love? Is not then the humble recognition of our mu-tual need of one another the best soil for mutual low:? For charity is mutual giving. Almighty God has deliber-ately created us mutually dependent upon one another that we may have an opportunity to love by giving ar, d to love by receiving, that thus the bond of love may 'be perfect. Therefore our blessed Lord instructed His apostles to receive even while they gave: they were to accept the hospitality of those to whom they wished to preach, they were to eat what was placed before them, they were to sleep on what was prepared for them (Lk 10:7-9). They were to be humbly dependent for material things upon the people upon whom they wished to shower super-natural gifts. Thus there would be established a balance and the mutual interchange which is charity in action. St. Paul's words describe the situation well: "There is a just bal-ancing- your abundance at the present time supplying their need, that their abundance may in turn supply your need, thus making for an equality" (2 Cor 8:14). Christ used this same technique with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Though it was getting towards evening and the day was far spent, He acted as though He were going on, giving them the opportunity to urge their hospitality upon Him, so that by their love in giv-ing to Him their hearts would be prepared to receive His greater gifts (Lk 24:28 f.). Christ our Lord sent forth His disciples two by two so that they could mutually give and receive as they trav-elled to their missions, upholding one another in love. For in Christianity there is no room for the proud inde-pendent spirit which rejects others as though he does not need them, spurning their help as though he can get along without them, refusing to accept from others lest a debt of gratitude make him dependent upon them, carefully hoarding his own resources in fear that giving to others will impoverish him and make him dependent. How tremendously more fruitful all of our labors would be if all of us would work together in this humble charity which recognizes our need of one another! True charity is ever humbly aware of our mutual dependence upon one another in Christ and of our solidarity in Him; and therefore it is willing not only to give help but humbly to accept it and to give again in grateful return. For Christians must never give to others with an air of condescending superiority but must always humble them-selves to the level of the needy, in genuine compassion. "Be minded as was Christ Jesus," says st. Paul. "Though he was divine by nature, he did not consider his being on an equality with God a thing to be grasped, bi~t on the contrary he emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave, and was made like to men" (Phil 2:5-6). For the gifts of God, whether spiritual or material, are never given to us in order to exalt us above our fellowmen but rather to give us the means of serving Him in humble love. "Freely ~have you received, freely give" (Mr 10:8). If St. Thomas Aquinas always looked upon requests for his help as proceeding from humble charity, in humility he considered himself the servant of all in that same charity. For example, a young Dominican lecturer of Venice once wrote to him a list of thirty-six questions and asked for the answers within four days! Though this may seem to be an inconsiderate abuse of the generosity of an extremely busy man like Thomas, especially since the questions were vaguely phrased, nevertheless in sending back all the answers Thomas gently replied: "Although I h~ave been very busy, I have put aside for a time the things that I should do, and have decided to answer in-dividually the qusetions which you proposed, so as not to be lacking to the request of your charity." We must beware, then, of setting self-sufficient bound-aries about ourselves, saying, as it were, "This is my sphere of influence in the community, this is the work I will do. I can do this and no more, and I will accept no help in doing it, for I am self-sufficient within these lim-its. I want no help, because I wish to be independent of the need of helping another in return. So let us all de-marcate our spheres of influence, let us carefully portion out the common resources of our community life. This portion shall be mine, that portion shall be yours, and let us not trespass upon one anotherl You may not borrow my help or my equipment or my resources even in time of need, for at all costs we must avoid trespassing the 'rights' of one another. In short, let us kill all the spon-taneity of community life in charity." Religious who by vow have renounced everything, even their own wilI, are the last people in the world who should be insisting upon their rights. Is not charity a higher law than rights, does not charity break down the wails of proprietorship? Does not charity concede to others that to which they have no strict right? For whenever we have something and our neighbor is in true need of it, then it is no longer our own but his. It is not his in justice, but in charity. He cannot demand it of us--unless he is in dire necessity--but he can humbly ask it in love, and we grant it in love. We owe it to him + + + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22, 1963 505 Paul Hinn~bu~ch, O.P. REVIEW FOR REL|G~OU$ in the charity which makes all of us one body under one Head. And yet, there is order in charity. For though what I~ have is given me by God not just for myself but for the service of others in Christ, yet I must use and distribute what I have in an orderly way, using it for the appointed purposes in community life. If I am called upon to de-vote some of my time or my resources in giving emer-geny help to another so that my appointed tasks may seem thereby to suffer, rather than stifle charity's eager-hess to help I entrust my own affairs to divine providence while I attend to the immediate needs of my neighbor. On the other hand, the common ownership of all things in community life, in this one body under one Head in charity, does not justify any one member or group of members o[ the religious community in appro-priating an unjust share of the common resources, taking more than should be alloted when distribution is made to each according to his need. If resources are unjustly appropriated in this way, even the charity of those who are unjustly deprived cannot approve of the injustice, though they may have to endure it in patience. Even charity cannot approve of the injustice, for charity is obliged to love the common good and cannot permit this harmful swelling of one member at the expense of an-other. We cannot appeal, then, to the fact that we are one body under one Head to justify any highhanded appro-priating of the common resources. What my neighbor has is mine, what the community has is mine, but only in the friendship of charity. I have only love's rights to these things. And therefore only in humble charity may !1. re-quest more than is already allotted to me. Only mutual charity makes what is his mine and what is mine his. Charity never demands, charity humbly asks. And when she has received, in due course she makes a grateful re-turn. Everyone who is generous in fulfilling the law of char-ity and is ever eager to be at the service of others sooner or later runs into those who abuse his generosity by mak-ing, in the name of charity, requests which charity has no right to make. There will be those who will use the main point of this article as an excuse for imposing upon others, saying, "I request this in charity, so in charity you may not refuse me." Are there situations when we may refuse requests for help without violating charity? At first sight it would seem not, for our Lord says, "Give to everyone who asks of you" (Lk 6:30). However, our Lord never asks the im-possible. There are times when one is so laden with other duties of justice and charity that he cannot possibly ful-fill a request for help. But in a case like this, charity must know how to say "No." "There is always a way of refus-ing so graciously," says the Little Flower, "that the re-fusal affords as much pleasure as the gift itself would have." Lest we abuse charity's rigl~t to ask help, we must al-ways be very considerate of those of whom we ask help. We should not ask a generous person for his help when we could do the things ourselves easily enough. For if the one we ask is really charitable and generous, then we can be sure he already has more than enough to do, for every-one is asking his help. We must take care never to ask un-necessarily or selfishly. If we really do not need help and the person we ask sees that this is so, then he is not uncharitable in refusing us. In this case a work of charity is not called for, since by definition a work of mercy is aid given to one who has true need. Furthermore, a busy religious has to be dis-criminating in the works of charity he undertakes. Since it is impossible for him to do everything, he does not violate charity if he makes a prudent choice about whom he is to help or about the type of aid he is to give; for as we have said, there is an order of charity. No one is obliged to sacrifice the greater works of charity and jus-tice to aid someone who would abuse his charity. Even in refusing a request which charity has no right to make, we must be charitable in our manner of refus-ing. One must patiently bear with the fault of the one who seeks to impose upon him. Likewise, we must be careful in judging whether or not a person really is abus-ing charity's rights to ask. Ordinarily we ought to pre-sume that the bond of charity lies at the basis of all re-quests for our help. If we may refuse help to those who are uncharitably inconsiderate in the requests they make of us, on the other hand we should anticipate the needs of those whose charity is so considerate of us that they hesitate to ask our help lest they unduly burden us. If, when necessary, charity knows how to refuse help in a gracious way, true charity is also always gracious in its manner of giving help. If our consent to help another is grudging and ungracious, we deal him an uncharitable blow even as we help him, for we humiliate him by our attitude. My son, to your charity add no reproach, nor spoil any gift by harsh words! Like clew that abates a burning so does a word improve a gift. ÷ ÷ + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22~ 1965 5O7 Sometimes the word means more than the gift; both are offered by a kindly man. Only a fool upbraids before giving: a grudging gift wears out the expectant eyes (Sir 18:14-17). "The word means more than the gift" because the gen-uine charity behind the asking and the giving, the giving and the receiving, is the one thing precious above all else. 4- 4- 4- Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANTONIO ROSMINI Three Q estions on the Spiritual Life [Antonio Rosmini, 1797-1855, was one of the great figures of the Church in the nineteenth century. Besides founding the Rosminian Fathers (the Institute of Charity), he also founded the Sisters of Providence (the Rosminian Sisters). As the founder of the sisters, he was naturally solicitous for their spiritual progress and advancement. The Review is happy to present here a translation of a letter :from Father Rosmini to the members of the Sisters of Providence in England on three important matters of the spiritual life. The translation has been made by the Reverend Denis Cleary, I.C.; Saint Mary's; Derrys Wood; Wonersh; Guildford, Surrey; England.] Stresa~ September 24, 1850 Dear Daughters in Christ, I would not wish you to judge my charity towards you by the number of letters which you receive from me. The Lord knows that I have you in my heart and that I offer you to Him every day on the altar. If I write infrequently, attribute this to my weakness and to the fact that I know you have a superior who is full of zeal for your growth in Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, now that this superior of yours, and my dear brother in Christ, is returning to you after his journey to Italy, I cannot but send with him a letter which will serve to thank you for the gifts which you have sent me in your charity as a sign of your devo-tion and in which I shall answer those three important questions which you sent to me. I answer these questions because, although I know that you could have the same answers from your immediate superior who is full of wisdom and the spirit of God, I think that hearing the same things from me, as you desire and ask, will give you consolation and strength in doing good because of that affection and obedience which you grant me in Christ Jesus. It is for this reason that I write, not necessarily for your greater instruction. The first question which you ask me is this: "How can one use a spirit of intelligence without falling away from simple and blind obedience?" ÷ Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 + 4. ÷ ¯ 4ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This question and the other two which follow show your spiritual discernment becau.se they manifest your de-sire for instruction in the most perfect things. Perfec-tion demands that we know how to join and harmonize in our daily actions those virtues which, at first sight., seem opposed and even, perhaps, to exclude one another reciprocally. In fact, although no virtue can ever truly be opposed to another, just as no truth can be opposed to another truth, there is an art in uniting harmoniously those virtues which belong to faculties and passions which have contrary tendencies. When possessed by a per-fect man these faculties and passions come together in an orderly way. Knowing how to bring them together, there-fore, belongs to the study of that perfection to which we are consecrated. The person who seeks for perfection is rather like a composer who knows how to blend the voices of contralto, baritone, and bass. Coming now to your que.,stion, I say that simple and blind obedience can be joined with a spirit of intelli-gence and that this can be done in various ways. The First Way. It must be realised that the higher and the more universal the reason which governs our actions, the greater the use we make of a spirit of intelligence. Acting with a spirit of intelligence only means acting ~c-cording to reason without allowing ourselves to be moved or disturbed by any passion whatsoever. Now the highest and most universal of all reasons for acting is that of doing in everything the will of God (I expect you have seen what I have written on this matter and have also read it). But he who obeys with simplicity and purity is certain of doing the will of God who has said concerning ecclesiastical superiors: "He who hears you hears me." This is a simple but efficacious and sublime reason for acting. It contains so much good in itself that, when it is present, it renders every other reason superfluous. So you see that although obedience is called blind this is not because it is without light but because it has so much light that it does not need to take it from elsewhere. It is as though a man is said to be without light because he does not light candles when the sun shines. The Second Way. Besides this, he who obeys blindly and simply can use his spirit of intelligence in the way in which he carries out what he has been commanded. Two persons carry out a command of their superior: one of them does it without reflection, without attention, without putting his heart into the work, without think-ing of what he has been told, without endeavoring to understand what has been commanded; the other does the same work trying to know, first of all, what his supe-riot's intention was, then endeavoring to carry out that intention in the best way possible as if it were his very own. The former, you see, acts without conviction and almost in spite of himself. The other performs his duty willingly; he desires to succeed; he finds his happiness in this work since he is certain of pleasing God. The latter obeys both with simplicity and with a spirit of intelli-gence, like a living and intelligent person, not like a machine. It is obviously impossible for the superior, when he commands, to mention in detail all those things which concern the way in which the order, is to be carried out. He gives the command and then leaves the subject to carry it out. The subject who has the greater spirit of intelligence can be known immediately through observa-tion of the manner in which he carries out his duty. The Third Way. It often happens that the command is more or less general and that many things are left to the common sense of the one who receives it. In this case, the subject must be careful to note the sphere of action de-termined for him by the command of his stiperior. Within that sphere he is obliged by obedience itself to work in a personal manner, not capriciously, 9[ course, but according to sound judgment, that is to say, with a spirit of intelligence. If you consider the different members of a religious congregation, you will see that they all act through obe-dience, even the general of the order because he is subject to the pope at least. Nevertheless, obedience leaves a more or less free field to the details of their obedience. .Superiors have greater scope in this respect than subjects. According to his position, each one can .and must make use of his spirit of intelligence. In your own house, you begin from the central superior and you go down through all the other offices, each of which is subordinate to the one above and so directed by obedience. Nevertheless, all the work has to be carried out with a spirit of intelli-gence. Everyone has to use this spirit in so far as obedi-ence leaves the matter to her discretion. Take another example, a teacher or a nurse, for in-stance. Obedience imposes this work, and so the merit of obedience is present. But what a great deal of intelligent application is needed to carry it out perfectlyl And if you consider even particular commands, you will find that the greater part of them leaves some liberty where one's own intelligence can be used. For instance, you have to write a letter and have even been told in general what to write. Is it not still necessary to think carefully about the way in which the matter is to be expressed? Obedience, therefore, never determines all the actions which a person does--that would be impossible. Many commands give scope, and great scope, to the exercise of personal initia-tive. + + + Three Questions VOLUME 22~ 196~ ~ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Fourth Way. This concerns the observations which we make respectfully to our superiors about the commands they give us. These observations are perfectly lawful, but in order to make them with a true spirit of intelligence three conditions are required: first, that these observations spring simply from zeal for good and t.he glory of God, not from any self-interest; second, that they are not made lightly--in a word, that we do not say the first thing that comes into our head without having re-flected upon the matter; third, that they are made in spirit of submission so that if the superior insists upon his command the subject does not sulk but does what he is told with alacrity and joy. If the matter has great importance for the glory of God and it seems that what is commanded by the superior is not the right course, one can have recourse to a higher superior. This is not contrary to the simplicity of obedi-ence provided that the three conditions mentioned are put Jr;to practice. Superiors like to hear the observations of their subjects provided that these are offered in a spirit of charity and humility. If after all this it happens that what has to be done and what is done for obedience leads to some harmful effect (provided, of course, one is not treating of sin), the one who obeys has lost nothing. On the contrary, he gains because his act of obedience con-tains a mortification which is most pleasing to God. The man who mortifies himself in order to obey has taken great step forward on the road to sanctity both because he has denied his own will and because he has sacrificed his selblove and submitted his reason to a greater reason, God's very own, from which the command comes. That is suflacient for the first question. The second question is this: "How can one unite prac-tically the spirit of contemplation to an active life en-gaged in works of charity?" Since the union of holy contemplation with the exer-cise of works of charity is the aim of our congregation, follows that we must not be satisfied until we have ob-tained from God the light to join these two things in our-selves. I say that we must obtain from God the power of uniting contemplation and action in our life because the' only master who can teach us such a sublime science is, Jesus Christ Himself who gave us a most perfect example' of it. You see, this science consists in nothing else but' union, and the closest possible union, with Jesus Christ. In His mercy He has already prepared in His Church the' means necessary for this union. Even before we were born or knew how to desire them, these means were made' ready for us. What are these means, then, which enablel us to obtain this intimate and continually actuated union~ with Jesus Christ, this union which does not distract us from works of external charity but, on the contrary, im-pels us towards them and helps us to implement them? The first among them is the pure and simple intention of seeking Jesus Christ alone in all our thoughts, works, and actions. This uprightness of intention is harmed to a greater or less degree by any other affection which influ-ences our actions. It follows that our intention of seeking in everything Jesus Christ alone is not perfect if we have not given up self-love and sensuality entirely. I said, how-ever, that that intention which seeks Jesus Christ alone in everything is hurt by every affection which influences our internal or external actions because an affection or sensation which has no influence on our voluntary thoughts or words or actions (in which case the affection or sensation is entirely opposed by our will) in no way diminishes the purity of our intention. On the contrary, it gives it scope and increases it according to those words of God to St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in tribula-tion." The second means, which serves to help the first, con-sists in carrying out all our exercises of piety, and espe-cially our reception of the sacraments and our assistance at Mass, with the greatest possible fervor, tenderness, gratitude, sincerity, and intelligence. It is especially in these two acts of devotion that there is loving union be-tween Jesus Christ and the devout soul. The third means is that of endeavoring continually to keep alive the love of Jesus Christ in our hearts by hold-ing Him present, painted, as it were, before the eyes of the soul. We have to hear His words as they are recorded in the Gospel; we have to consider the actions which He performed during His mortal life and at the moment of His precious death (all these actions should be familiar to a spiritual person); we must apply His words and His example to ourselves and to all that we have to do; we must ask how He would act in our case and how He wishes us to act; when we are in doubt we should take advice, desiring sincerely to know and to do what is most perfect and is most pleasing to Him; we must listen to His voice with reverence and love when He speaks within US. The fourth means is that of beholding Jesus Christ in our neighbor. Whenever we have contact with our neigh-bor, we must endeavor to be of use to him in Jesus Christ and receive from him edification for ourselves. If we have a great zeal for the salvation of souls, we shall do every-thing in our power to win them and to bringlthem close to Jesus Christ. At the same time, we will wage war on useless and idle words and upon superfluous conversa-tioHnso awnedv vear,i nin c uorridoesrit yto. direct our every wo|rd/and work + 4. 4. Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 Antonio Rosrnini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to the betterment of others and of ourselves, and so to bring forth fruits of eternal life, two things are necessary: primarily and principally, charity should always be ou.r guiding star; secondly, we must ask from Jesus Christ the light of His prudence which multiplies the fruits of charity. A soul that always proposes to itself the good of souls in everything that it says or does will always be recollected even in the midst of many external works be-cause its spirit is always intent on charity; and he who thinks always of the charity of Jesus Christ and has noth-ing else in his heart is always recollected in Jesus Christ and in God because the Scripture says: "God is charity." To acquire the habit which enables these four means to fructify in a constant recollection of spirit even in the midst of external occupations, it is necessary to make great efforts in the beginning and mortify oneself reso-lutely with regard to everything that distracts the mind and is opposed" to this state of recollection and of the presence of God. We must ask this grace of Jesus Christ with great constancy. Only by persevering in intense prayer can the soul be established in that permanent con-dition of quiet in God which is never lost through any' external action provided the will does not give itself to evil. Here you must realise that the power which communi-cates with God and is joined to God is different from those other powers with which we work externally. When, therefore, man has come to a certain state of con-templation and union, he works with those powers which regard external actions without placing any obstacle to that supreme power which gives him quiet and rest in God. So it is that we read of certain holy persons who, while they seemed completely taken up externally, were speaking internally with their God and Creator. And this conversation of theirs, instead of impeding them, helped them to do their external works better, just as outward actions did not turn them away from their interior~ union with God. Such a desirable state is usually obtained by those faithful and constant souls who, at the beginning, suffer much and mortify themselves greatly and pray with in-tensity and wholeheartedness. This is the state which the Sisters of Providence must strive to obtain during the time of the novitiate when they have every opportunity, if only they will use it, of binding themselves indissolubly to God, the spouse of their souls. The union begt, n then must last for the whole of their life. Those sisters who have not obtained it completely during their novitiate must strive to gain it as soon as possible, But let us pass to the third question. The third question was, then: "How can one unite per- fect zeal and an ardent desire for the perfection of charity with perfect detachment from the esteem~ of others and a sincere desire for contempt and ill use." This question is no less difficult to dea,1 with than the preceding two--to answer in practice, ,I mean, not in words. But what is difficult to Jesus Christ and to those who hope in Him and pray to Him . ?~t In order to reply to this last question~of yours, I say that it is necessary to suppose in a person h foundation of solid humility. This consists in not attributing to oneself that which belongs to God alone or to other men. Humil-ity, in fact, is only justice. It is just that m~{n should think himself nothing (because he really is such) and that he should think God everything; it is just tl~at man should recognise that glory does not appertain to !nothing but to that which is everything. Therefore he should wish for no glory for himself but the greatest possible ~glory for God. When a man knows these things, it is just ~hat he should feel a certain uneasiness when he is praised by men be-cause he who is nothing cannot desire to b~ praised with-out usurping what is not proper to him. IOn the other hand, he should be joyful when he sees that men glorify God. Man however is not only nothing. He is something worse: he is a sinner (not only because of the sins which he has committed but also because of th~se which he could have committed and would commit con. tinually if God did not have compassion on him). It lis just there-fore that he should desire to be despised[and that he should rejoice when he is ill treated by mefl. Sentiments of this nature must be unshakeable and deeply implanted in the soul of a religious person. Nevertheless, this per-son must realise also that although man is a, lnothing and moreover subject to every sin, Jesus Christ lias redeemed him through His mercy freely given; He h~s saved him and clothed him with Himself in such a maqner that the Christian bears the adornments of Jesus Christ. These are more or less rich and precious according io the abun-dance of virtues, of merits, and of grace poss,essed by the Christian. A man who finds himself adorned in this man-ner is indeed mad if this causes pride in him. On the other hand, if he realises that all these treasures are given to him freely and through no merit of his own, he will humble himself and attribute to God alone dhe glory of them without usurping for himself even the sdaallest part of that glory. Yet, just as God has given to man theset'reasures of v~rtue and of grace through a wholly gratmtous love, so also He makes h~m a paruc~pator of H~s own glory. Once more, though, man must not consider this glo',ry which is g~ven to him as his own but as belonging to Jisus Christ 4, Three Questions VOLUMF 22~ 1963 4. 4. ÷ Antonio Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS who, through His mercy, has wished to pour it out upon those who believe in Him, and to allow them a share it. With all this well understood, we can formulate certain rules which enable us to unite a desire of perfecting onr works of charity with detachment from self-esteem and, moreover, with a sincere desire of contempt (a most pre-cious thing). The rules are the following. First Rule. Generally speaking we must not give any occasion for contempt, at least through our own fault. When, despite this, we are belittled~ we must receive our humiliation with joy as something precious; we must thank God for it without fearing that it will damage our works of charity because, even if some damage does re-sult from it, this is desired by the Lord for His own ends. We ought not to turn away from it but trust in Provi-dence which will know how to obtain greater good h'om the immediate evil. Second Rule. We must never do anything whatever to gain praise from men. To do so is a most despicable act. When praise doescome of its own accord, we must at-tribute it to Jesus Christ to whom alone it belongs; we must, for our part, fear it as a danger and take precau-tions against it by internal acts of humility and contempt of ourselves; we must protest that we do not want to re-ceive it as a part of our reward. After this, if we find that praise is useful towards the perfection of our works of charity, we can take pleasure in it provided that this pleasure concerns the perfection of charity. We must not refer it simply to ourselves and we must be careful that no feeling of vanity or pride arise from it. On the con-trary, after we have received praise we should prepare ourselves for greater humiliation, persuaded that praise has made us no better than we were before. Third Rule. When we realise that the praise has been exaggerated, we should be displeased because this is con-trary to truth and justice. We should attribute it to the large heart of the one who gives it. Fourth Rule. In order to know whether we are really detached ourselves, we must see if we are glad when others are praised. You especially must ask yourselves whether you rejoice when praise is given to your sisters. Even the very smallest dislike or jealousy on this account would be a very great defect. You must be generous with others but especially with your sisters; you must consider their virtues far more than their vices; and you must try to maintain, by just means always, the esteem which others give them. Everyone must be ready to turn praise away from herself and see that it goes instead to her sis-ters. Each one must wish to be first with the work in hand and the last to be praised. This is not a dit~icult thing when a person considers his own defects and the virtues of others; when he no longer judges or condemns the defects of others; when he leaves ~ll judgment to God to whom alone it belongs; when he puts into prac-tice the lesson which Jes.us Christ tau :ht with these words: "Do not judge and you will not be judged. In fact, exposing oneself to the danger of j, " " one's brethern is the same as doing tlztdging wrongly ¯Therefore, in order not to be in danger o~ em an injury. lnj"us ¯uce against them, one must abstain [croom mevitetrinyg d aen-finitive judgment which may harm them. tions as the answers occurred to me. I hope that, if you meditate and do all this, you ever more dear to God and assure for your mortal crown. Your most affectionate fat~ Filth Rule. We must never speak of th ings for which we can be praised-~even the world considers this wrong. Moreover, although we ought not to bl'ame ourselves without good motives, nevertheless we ought to strive to cover up our virtues as far as we can andI to speak con-temptuously of ourselves sometimes provided so with sincerity This i . ¯ ~ .we can do you are speaking with yo~u rp rsaislsteewrso orrm wy iethspl et~cmerlsloyn ws h"en wh.om you are friendly, provided, once mo~, that itwl~tahs a s~ncere foundation. My dear sisters in Christ, I have replied t.o your ques- ,n our Lord will become seives an lin-er in Christ, A.R. ÷ Three Questions VOLU~ ~:,, SISTER JEAN DE MILAN, S.G.C. Toward Greater Maturity ÷ ÷ Sister Jean de Mi-lan, S.G.C., teaches psychology at Rivier College; Nashua, New Hampshire. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 The compatibility of neurosis and religion has re-ceived considerable attention in the psychological litera-ture of the last. thirty years. It is argued that sanctity re-quires a certain integrity in the psychic order,1 that man's struggle for perfection is directly proportionate to his mental equilibrium.2 There is no doubt, then, as to the importance of mental health in religious life where men and women consecrate themselves to God by vows to practice the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Religious commit themselves to community living and they depend mostly on one another for the works of the community and for companionship. It takes only elemental charity to prompt one to look into the dynamics of a neurosis in search of the elements incom-patible with a religious life. It is now an accepted fact that without being diagnosed psychoneurotics everyone exhibits neurotic symptoms at irregular intervals. It will be the purpose of this paper to identify these neurotic traits and to suggest measures within the framework of a religious life which can help to attenuate if not to eradicate the troublesome symptoms. The paper will be developed along twelve characteris-tics listed by Schneiders as typical of neurotic person-alities: immaturity and sensitivity, self-centeredness, un-realistic ego ideal, rigidity and anxiety, isolation, ag-gression against self, mental conflict, lack of control, sug-gestibility, irresponsibility, lack of sense of humor, and emotional instability,s These traits can be found in many people including religious; it is only when they become x Jordan Aumann, "Can Neurotics Be Saints?" Cross and Crown, v. 5 (1953), pp. 458-59. s Robert Meskunas, "Sanity and Sanctity: An Inquiry into the Compatibility of Neurosis and Sanctity," Bulletin o] the Guild o] Catholic Psychiatrists, v. 7 (October, 1960), p. 248. s Alexander A. Schneiders, Personal Adjustment and Mental Health (New York: Rinehart, 1955), pp. 390-95. a consistent and persistent pattern that/one speaks of a neurotic personality. As a type of adjustment, it is in-adequate and it represents an meffioent and unwhole-some effort to meet the demands and rdsponsibilities of daily living. / 1. Immaturity,and Sensitivity The neurotics immaturity makes allI problems and frustrations loom large and menacing, IThis tendency, often paired with regression, connotes not only loss mature habits of behavior but a consequ~ent progressive inadequacy of response. The neurotic be.comes decreas-ingly able to meet the ordinary demands for social living and begins to withdraw from acuve part~opauon, m group acuwty. He does not master hfe ~ut expects life to look after him. He is unusually sensitive to comments concerning himself and cannot tolerate/any form criticism. His sensitivity makes the stresses~ and threats of reality almost unbearable¯ Religious life favors the cultivation of a/Christianper-sonality through the development of a perfect life---~ne exquisitely balanced, of noble service to ohe's neighbor, a life most happily modeled on Christ Hi~aself. In lead-ing to spiritual maturity, religious life de~aands of one constant and close personal contacts in theI common life which comprises factors capable of actualizing the po-tentialities of the individual. To be a constructive and mature power, the individual personality ]nust exercise itself through activity upon others. Religious who can be characterized by "immaturity and sensitivity" are likely to be living in a sElf-contained world. They have refused to walk through the doors swinging outward where the self can be ektended and actualized. 2. Self-Centeredness Neuroticism is characterized by a life which is, in some respects, self-centered. It is ~mmatunty s firs.t ally. The neurotic makes his ego the center of the universe; good is what is good for the ego, bad only what unpleasant to it. Menninger, a renowned psychiatrist, b~lieves that Christ Himself laid down one of the pnnople~s of mental health that is now recognized as of paramo,unt impor-tance. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all quoted Christ when they said: "For whosoever will save his life s~all lose it, but whosoever will lose his life for my sake will save it." What better can condense the attributes of a mature per-sonality? "Some men can love others enough~ to derive ¯ more satisfaction from that than from being lo~ved them-selves. It is still a magnificent precept. If you can follow VOLUME 22, 1963 ,519 it, you will never have to make a date with a psychia-trist." 4 Religious life, because of its theocentric plan, teaches a person to surmount his egocentricity. It also provides a basis for satisfactory interpersonal relations and cha:r-ity toward fellow men in the fatherhood of God instead of in changing human sentiments.5 The spirit of self-abnegation and self-denial is fundamental to the re-ligious life. Religious are called to share one mind, one heart, one life, one love in Christ. Their social service is motivated by the love of God in the neighbor. Self-love, then, tends to decrease as a function of one's love. for others. The paradox of a self-centered religious be-comes a serious indictment. + + + Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3. Unrealistic Ego Ideal The neurotic harbors an almost pathological ego ideal which prevents him from achieving a realistic attitude toward the issues and problems of daily life. His goal is a purely idealized and often artificial one. The ego ideal, the self one wants to become, may take the form of an ideal of personal conduct or it may be identified with certain desired accomplishments. The purpose of the ideal is to bring about identification with it in view of self-actualization. It emphasizes the forward movement or activity that is characteristic of living or-ganisms. The personal pattern of tendencies is projected into the future. This orientation toward future goals is commonly accepted by psychologists as a mark of matu-rity. Obviously, it reaches its highest perfection in re-ligion where man is oriented toward his ultimate goal.e Religion aims primarily at bringing persons closer to God, and by doing so it may secondarily promote their mental health. When a person believes that God assists him in a very personal way, life's perplexities and emo-tional crises become relatively unimportant. With such a clear-eyed notion of God, of His claims on the indi-vidual and His plans for him, the religious has a reliable and stable framework upon which to build a plan of life. Religion is the supreme moral virtue dominating his interior life and his relations to other human beings, and the religious view of life becomes the philosophy which dominates both thought and conduct.7 Such a man is strengthened by the sense of his own personal dignity. ' Schneiders, Personal Adjustment, p. 160. ~ James H. VanderVeldt and Robert P. Odenwald, Psychiatry and Catholicism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952), p. 185. e James E. Royce, Personality and Mental Health (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1955), p. 277. ~ Thomas Verner Moore, Personal Mental Hygiene (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1944), p. 236. A religious has only to gauge his serentty to evaluate himself on this trait. 4. Rigidity and Anxiety The neurotic's rigidity and anxiety d, not allow ~him to adapt to changing situations. Flexibility, suppleness, and malleability are the signs of life. I Rigidity, rigor mortis, is the sign of death. Such is the sta'te of the person who lacks malleability, whose personali~,y is excessively rigid'S Fear and anxiety, the very core of neurosis, are emo-tions which generally assume a rather egoistic character. It is well known and readily accepted thatldiffuasnexiety is reduced in the neurotic by the development of somatic symptomatology, exther phys~ogentc or psychogemc ~n nature. The physical symptoms then bdcome ways of structuring the anxiety¯ Anxiety may result from dejection flowing from one's inabilityto realize his ambitions; it maylbe due to in-jured vanity. There are surprisingly few neurotics' among people who are genuinely humble. Real Ihumil!ty is a prophylaxis against the anxieties one encounters ~n every day human interaction, for the truly huml~le person not only recognizes his own weaknesses and limperfections but he remains peaceful when his deficiencies are recog-nized by others also.9 One who has consecrated himself to God by religious vows is officially the spouse of Christ. Bu~ one can be officially the bride of Christ without having made in reality a complete sacrifice of himself in which his will is identified with and absorbed in the will of God, or without having attained to that psychologtcal state that St. John of the Cross designates as "spiritual ,matrimony." This state results in a cessation of all anxiety and a men-tal state of peace and delightA0 It is quitd remarkable how religious experiences tend to the moral perfectton of the one who has them. They give him a be~ter mode of adjustment in his relations to other humanl beings and a spiritualized conception of the nature of t~ials. 5. Isolation There is a certain amount of hostility in .he neurotic make-up coupled wtth tnabthty to get along w~th others. The psychoneurotm ts essenually a maladjusted personal- 8 Charles J. D. Corcoran, "Types Suited or Unsuited for Religious Vocation," Proceedings o] the Eighth Annual Convocation o[ the Vocation Institute (Notre Dame: Notre Dame Press, 1955), p. 33. 0 Raphael C. McCarthy, Sa]eguarding Mental Health! (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1937), p. 253. lOThomas Verner Moore, The Driving Forces o[ H~man Nature (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1948), pp. 421-22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 521 4. Sister lean de Milan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity and the victim of a bad system of mental habits. isolation results from a group of defense reactions, in-cluding primarily the fundamental biological reactions of defense and avoidance. The neurotic withdraws from his social group and becomes a nuisance even unto him-self. Man is a social being whose ultimate destiny is bound up with his observance of the great commandment dual charity. His perfection as a person is analogous to that of a seed which, to bear fruit, must grow outside of of itself. Religious growth in perfection can be measured in terms of one's serviceability to and influence on others. A life in the service of God and man, a wholehearted de-votion to the ideal of religious life, appears as the realiza-tion of our friendship with God. The profound feeling of loneliness and sense of isolation one experiences oc-casionally can be cured by a sincere trust in God, our friend. 6. Aggression Against Sell Neurotics are characterized by a great deal of petulance, annoyance with others, sensitivity to their at-titudes and behavior, readiness to quarrel and to find fault, and so on. Self-hatred as well as hatred of reality underlies both the spiritual and emotional disturbance. Aggression against self flows from conceited pride which has a twofold weakening effect: one of walling up its victim from reality and the other of making him super-sensitive to anything that might be construed to indicate a belittling attitude on the part of others,ix Running through all these neurotic ups and downs is a thread of chronic dissatisfaction and hopelessness which pre:;ents the eternal problem of "to be or not to be." The neurotic tries to evade the problem but no evasion is possible. He goes on unhappy and feeling offended and disregarded while it is within his power to modify, change, develop, and perfect his attitudes of mind, his emotional reac-tions, and the habits that fall under the competence of the will. It may call for the adoption of a new plan of life. Religious life, by having one strive towards the per-fection of a Christian personality, calls for a conscious development along the lines of private and social con-duct. Weekly confession is productive of a healthy ac-ceptance of one's shortcomings without introspective brooding. One is helped to come to a realistic acknowl-edgement of one's place, one's assets and liabilities, and one's dignity and dependence on God. Meditation is also a great promoter of insight. n James A. Magner, Personality and $uccessIul Living (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1945), p. 44. Mental Conflict Since it is the nature of conflict to pull the organism in different directions at the same time, deep-seated neurotic conflict is bound to disrupt the organization of personality. In the concept of. conflictI the conscience principle is of supreme importance; for it often happens that there is no real conflict between desire and its mere physical fulfillment, or between desire a~d one's sense of expediency, but that it is mainly and al~ove all between desire and the sense of duty. When impulse and fear are in conflict, the neurotic tries to resolve the conflict not by cont.trolling the im-pulse but instead by evasion and decep, uon. The fear results in behavior which seeks grauficauon while trying to keep punishment from occurring; thits strategy com-monly involves secrecy and falsehood. Th~ neurotic seeks to avoid social disapproval, but his conscle, nce hurts him. Attempts at repression may be unsuccessful and the in-dividual may resort to neurotic symptoms. Rehg~on, by reason of its experiences, behefs, and prac-uces, ~s eminently stated to the reducuon of damagxng conflict, feelings, and frustrations. It constantly reminds one of the intrinsic value and dignity of man, and of the fact that he is created to the image and likeness of God; there is no better way to offset the traumatic effects of in-feriority and the feeling of personal worthl~essness. There can be no more solid anchor than trust in! divine provi-dence and in the belief of His personal interest in each of His creatures. Conformity to the will of th~ all-wise God makes life's sorrows and fears bearable. Whlen a religious weakens under the burden of mental conflitcts, it will be wise for him to work out the debits and credits of his conduct in terms of self-will and will of G~d. 8. Lack of Control When the emotions are chronically ou~[ of control, some degree of neurosis exists. There is no neurosis with-out some evidence of failure in control an~t integrative functions. Integration presupposes wisdom ~in the intel-lect and character in the will--a scale of lvalues, self-knowledge, and habits of self-control. Most o,[ the neurot-ics are recruited among those whose will power is undeveloped. Stability amid the ups and downs of emotional moods is essential to both physical and mental heal~.h. Here the virtues of fortitude and temperance play their part. Re-ligion gives moral principles with a bac,king which makes them easier to hold onto when the going is hard. Meditation, a daily spiritual exercise for all religious, Moore, Mental Hygiene, p. 306. 4. Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ $i~tet lean d~ Milan, $.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 readjusts their thinking to a proper sense of values. Be-sides, one is not allowed to elude the dynamics of grace for any considerable time when one truly lives his re. ligious life. 9. Suggestibility Suggestibility is closely linked with emotional im-maturity and harmful dependency. The suggestible neu-rotic is controlled by an idea or by someone else rather than by himself. His want of self-confidence makes him dependent upon others so that he leans on their judg-ments and readily yields to suggestion. He is vacillating in his purposes, uncertain in his opinions, fearful of re-sponsibility, and reluctant to assume the initiative in any activity. Such feelings batter at a person's mental in-tegrity until it is weakened or destroyed.13 Suggestibility resembles "lack of control" inasmuch as it implies lack of integration. The greater one's erno-tional vulnerability, the greater will be the predisposition to neurotic reactions. No doubt the neurotic is happier with his neurosis than he would be without it in view of all the circumstances external and internal as he per-ceives them; however, he lacks the happiness of an inte-grated personality. What VanderVeldt said of religion can be said of re-ligious life: "The condition for the mental health value of religion is that people truly live their religion.TM Perhaps not all people who are supposed to be religious and become neurotic have made their religious convic-tions an integral part of their lives. 10. Irresponsibility Sense of responsibility is the realization that one has certain duties and obligations to fulfill and the deter-mination to fulfill them to the best of one's abilities. Sense of responsibility and the willingness to accept obli-gations are dependent to a great extent on maturity. The comparison is often made of a neurosis being a closed door that bars dyn~imic development for the neu-rotic. If the doors of the neurotic hell are locked from the inside, the psychotherapist can only help the patient find the key. This is not an easy task as the neurotic pa-tient clings to his symptoms even though he is disturbed by them and seeks psychiatric help. The neurosis is a way of life that is pleasant to the neurotic, especially when he is able to manipulate the environment to meet his selfish needs. The ability to assume responsibility is in large part a McCarthy, SaIeguarding Mental Health, p. 266. VanderVeldt and Odenwald. Psychiatry and Catholicism, p. 193. matter of moral courage¯ One who has honest religious convicuons feels obhged to do something worthwhile for God and for man. He turns aside from the unwholesome pursuit of selfish pleasures. Religious Iprinciples direct his mind to the purpose of life, and in/so doing they do not deprive him of pleasure but' give it i~ abundance and permanence as he attains the great purp, ose of life in the service of God and man. If he has adopted the religious ideal with enthusiasm, then it become~ a powerful in-hibitory force against the development of unwholesome mental conditions.15 11. Lack ol Sense of Humor A good sense of humor is one of the c iteria of mental health and adjustment. It is not found in the neurotic whose life is humorless, a drab affair d~ minated by ill-ness, conflict, frustration, dissatisfaction, ~and discourage-ment. Humor is based on the perception of incongruities; it is a feeling of surprise, the joyous shock Iof discovery in our appreciation of life's incongruities. To find these con-trasts we must be self-detached,.account ourselves of little ¯ importance, look outwards and not rewards, feel drawn to people and to th~ngs ~n thanksgxwng; for humor ~s the reward o1: a wxll-to-commumty. "Wlll-to-cornmumty ~s not to be understood as a fixed determ~nauon to hve with the community but rather the will td live in a com-munity as a grateful member of a crowd,°r group. Hu-mor should be the natural endowment oflall thowsheo seek to live in religion. The test of a true sense of humor is the capacity to laugh with others at one's self; but that i~ not all. One must discover the reason for such laughter. One must learn to discover in the laughter of others s~omething like a comphment. True humor ~s akin to brotlierly love and sympathy; ~t brads us closer together and relaxes all un- ! due tensions. There is nothing so effecuve in checking the ingrowing pains of pride as a sense of h~umor. People who take themselves too seriously need the ~antidote of a good laugh to reduce values to their true llevel and to declare a permanent moratorium on manyI of their pet grievances and frustrated ambitions.17 A sense of humor combats anxiety, which is a blight on the ~ehg~ous life, by exercising the mind in a way which develops a living, vibrant suppleness. Cheerfulness is the siga which ac-companies sacrifices made out of true love, the love of God. Gloom and sadness are the signs of s~lcrifice made ~ Moore, Mental Hygiene, pp. 244-45. xo Ferdinand Valentine, The Apostolate o[ Chastity (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 15. x7 Magner, Personality and Success]ul Living, p. 48. ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22~ 1963 out of self-love, out of vainglory. A" sense of humor enables one to behd without breaking under the weight: of the cross, to see the proportion between the suffering,; of this life and the glory of the next, and to see oneself in the humble relationship of creature to Creator. 12. Emotional Instability Emotional instability is a dominant feature of the neurotic personality and a primary determinant of the neurotic's difficulties. Along with his emotional change-ability and high general emotionality, he exhibits be-havior that is characteristic of a spoiled child. There is an intimate connection between mental and moral health. Wholesome effective living and mental stability require an adequate scale of values, or philos-ophy of life, and a set of worthwhile attitudes and habits. These qualities can be provided more efficaciously and more abundantly by religion than anything else in one's life. Only moral virtue can give a healthy, integrated personality. The virtues moderate one's emotions and temperament, bringing them into balance. A virtuous life will result in unity and integration of personality. Summary and Conclusion Religious are not immune to neurotic behavior; at one time or another, a religious is likely to exhibit neu-rotic traits. But by its very nature, the religious life can help one counteract the possible neurotic tendencies. A brief discussion of the positive contributions of religious life to mental health was introduced with the discussion of each neurotic trait. The religious man or woman of humble faith in God, of daily prayer and consultation with God, of devotion to his or her religious duties as God has given light to see them has the assurance of a full perspective on life, health of mind, peace of soul, and a view of time in the light of eternity,is ~s James A. Magner, Mental Health in a Mad World (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 298. 4. Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 526 ROBERT j. KRUSE, C.S.C. Au in Religio 'From a supernatural point of view, th, exercise of re-ligious authority and the practice of ehg~ous obedience are meaningful only when conceived as~ participations in the authority and in the obedience of Christ our Lord. eAd::a°~n:r~ ~Vreo~tern~p. t to understand authority and obedi- . ~ a ~nrist-centered way of ~ife, we become gud~ of gloss misunderstanding In such }a situ . - gardless ot the reasonableness "a n d t h et ingenudittlyO oIlf~ oreu-r solutions to the problems which religiouslauthority and religious obedience pose, such solutions remain void of genuine supernatural worth. In discussing authority and obedience, therefore, our first and constant care must be to associate them with our life in Christ. ~therwise our discussion will remain purely human and natural and a ~. consequence sterile Attempts ,~ ~-~ - ~-,. ¯ s. hfe~as ~,s Christian a"nd relig~io tu~s x lcifaett~ ~m Uu~lvt lbnee wanaal~zffd in divine terms. To confront supernatural reality with purely natural reflections betokens a wand of reverence ~r~he g~dly way of life with which we ~re ~a . ~st our Lord. ~ ceu ~n In this article we will speak of authority in the r - ligious life. In a subsequent article we will ~er some r~ flections on religious obedience. Of the t~o topics the latter is the more all,cult. Both are intimately connected. Afith~rity and obedience are relative terms so that what-ever ,s said o~ the one necessarily contains implications for the other. In our discussion of authority ~e ~ill group our considerations about three focal poiqts: first, re-ligious authority and the mystery o[ the ~ncarnation; second, religious authority and the imitation of Christ our Lord; and third, religious authority and] the mystery o~ the Redemption. Divine life flows to the souI through many channels. Ultimately, however, all of those channels drink at a sole spring and that spring is Christ. It is He who gives ÷ ÷ Robert J. Kruse, C.S.C;, is a faculty member ot? Holy Cross Fathers Semi-nary; North Easton, Massachusetts. VOLUME 22, 1965 Robert CK,~.Ce., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 528 to the soul living water, "a fountain of water, springing up unto life everlasting" (Jn 4:14). What is it that the Christian and that the religious seeks? He seeks a share in the life of God. For without a share in the life of the eternal God, man is deprived of all eternal significance. Unless a man looks outside of himself to a higher order, to the transcendent order, to God, in search of an ex-planation for his own existence, unless a man looks be-yond self to Another for the fulfillment of his own noblest hopes, he remains imprisoned without hope in the finite, in the created, in the temporal order--with no more persona/significance than that of any other transi-tory phenomenon. Ultimately, all religious questions re-duce themselves to this sole question: the nature of man's relationship to God, the possibility of man's sharing in the life of God. For apart from such a possibility man becomes merely a moment in time. And self is incapable, totally incompetent to satisfy its own profoundest aspira-tions. So that man seeks a way out of the maze of human, created, and limited reality, finite love, imperfect good-ness and truth, a way which will lead him to the enjoy-ment eternally of unlimited reality, infinite love, perfect truth. That way is Christ. Christ is the sole way. There is no other way. Among all communications of divine life, none re-motely approaches that enjoyed by the holy humanity of Christ our Lord. For in all truth the human intellect, the human will, and the human body of our Savior are the intellect, will, and body of a divine person. No created being save the holy humanity of Christ, that hu-manity f.ull of grace and of truth, enjoys this personal union with God. Truly in the womb of the Virgin Mary are celebrated the nuptials of God and of man. In the mystery of the Incarnation, we witness the wedding of the divine and the human in the person of the Word made flesh. And in virtue of His holy humanity, the Son may be said to render perfect obedience to His Father and our Father. "Therefore in coming into the world, he says., a body thou hast fitted to me .B.ehold, I come., to do thy will, O God" (Heb 10:5-7). It is indeed significant that because of His obedience our Savior is glorified and exalted. "Appearing in the form of man, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even to death on a cross. Therefore God also has exalted him" (Phil 2:7-9). It is equally significant that because of His obedience our Savior lays claim to His Mystical Body, the Church, and wins authority over that Body. "Christ is head of the Church, being himself savior of the body," so that, "the Church is subject to Christ" (Eph 5:23-24). God has made all things "subject under hwihsi cfhe eint,d eaendd i sh hiims b hodey ""a (vEepn hea a2so: 2 'o2-v--e2 r-~ ,a) . r/t t,h, e_ C h u r c h., indeed would onlyY g uruhdrigsitn. gOlyn athssee ontth teor lhthaen dw, imll aon y." sup.eriors. The obvious explanatiofi is a~t hand: ~h:uir. Perxor" ,s not Chtr. iIsn d e e d , t h e s u p e./rior ma n be conspicuously Christlike T~;o ~.2, .y ot. even. course, irrelevant. For the. s.u. p,~er-i~olras naauttlhoonr iat s", .ot authority of Christ even if tbo . ¯ ,~ - y as the --- ~uperaor § conauct is far t~oro gmr ~asnpr itshtlei kper.o Tfohuen rdo osti gonf itfhicea pnrcoeb olefm.~/tihiees I innc aa rfnaailtuioren. God has willed to use human channels fo~" the communi-cation of divine life. First and foremost, t~e holy human-ity of the Word Incarnate. That humani,ty is, of course, "tried as we are in all things except sin" ~Heb 4:15). But in His Mystical Body the Incarnation ~1of the eternal Word is extended through all the centuries of man's pilgrimage in exile. And to His Body C~rist has com-municated His authority. In the Church~.~which is the prolongation through history of the mystery of th c,.,arn.auo.n--davme life is communicated ;,,! ,.~" .~__ t, oa. lhe Church can do this only becaus~ Christ is her Head; and in Christ human nature has lald claim on the divine, on the life of God. So that in th~ Church, the Body of Christ, the perfection and humanity receives truly divine gifts, fduilflfneess of Chri.~t's There is, of course, this crucial our Savior's fence between is --' r-. ,., r~.er ~s holy, perfectly sinl,~ss; the latter str~lYesP:~t~ut~iYn "fer~n'wnghi21.y. In the lmeantime it ~vL~.rot~uide of the holiness of its Hena ~dt. sBeuetk ws rite.~h:daelm Cphtriiosnt oin r - h.as c,o,.mmumcate.d to His Mystical B.bdy a arti~i- ~m,~e, ~sni.n ~f.un ltnaless osw on[ a tuhttaato Mrit"ys, tai c~aa]r-t i_cri, ~.,.;.~ i ~soay cann~o, ~t msucbnv eevretn. t~r,~a, ~,~,,.e~ m_t_ynstee.rry l nofta t}hlie. bIlnec naronra itmm.np ercecmabalien si m~ plliivciirt~lyg aty today and everyday. Such religious are ~unwilling to admit that divine life can be communicated to them through human channels---channels ¯ frailties which the very term "humans"u ibmjepclite tso. Talhlu tsh ien our treatment of authority, perhaps our basic need is to emphasize more the "humanness" of it~that it is the ex- ÷ tension and continuation of the mystery of ~he Incarna-tion, the m)stery of God's making His own a human ÷ nature in order thereby to redeem human nature. y our Loro resid " ~mperfect and sinful human bein¢~. . I , ~ an --~, we mUSt also alIlrm ~ut~i~y VOLUME 22t 1963 5,?,9 4" 4" Robert Kru~e, C£.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 53O that it is a duty incumbent upon those in authority to become increasingly perfect and sinless. In this effort those in authority have a sure guide: our Lord's exercise of authority. We have here a question not of what author-ity might be but of what authority must be. That is to say, there is an obligation for those in authority to ad-minister their trust in a Christlike manner. It is not, therefore, a question of some vague, elusive ideal but rather a question of serious moral obligation. Of cour:;e, as in every creaturely .undertaking, perfection is never totally realized. That does not, however, render its quest any less imperative. What, in more concrete .terms, does the Christlike exercise of authority involve? Fundamental, it seems to us, is the sense of service. "But Jesus called them (the apostles) to him and said, 'You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. Not so is it .among you. On the contrary, whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you, shall be your slave; even as the Son of Man has not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many' " (Mt 20:25-28). In the last analysis it is the functidn of those in authority in the religious life to contribute by their direction to "building up the Body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the deep knowledge of the Son of God, to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12--13). Religious authority, then, stands in service of Christ's Mystical Body. The superior must never forget that his commands are addressed to a subject in whom the Spirit of Christ dwells. Let those commands never grieve that Spirit. Authority's commands must come from Christ: and be directed to Christ. That is, the superior must speak words which are sensitive to the Spirit of Christ within himself--words which the Spirit of Christ within the subject recognizes as springing from a kindred Spirit. It is the same Christ who both commands and obeys. Con-siderations of a purely human kind, attitudes which re-flect a purely natural assessment of the nature of author-ity-- these are entirely out of place and constitute a degradation of religious authority. Fundamentally, the superior's role is to act as an instrument for the more per-fect rule of the Spirit of Christ over the hearts and over the conduct of those vowed to religious obedience. In the fulfillment of this role, external trappings de-signed to enhance authority's position are of dubious value. One of the most gifted theoIogians in the Church today writes in connection with this point: In the life of the cloister there are still to be found age-old rituals governing the etiquette of superiors, involving demands of respect from subjects, secretiveness, ma ifestations of su-periority, appeals of superiors to a hi her wi ¯ 5°.? escens,o etc. All hould m' ,hs?lay . or w.Juter away. ~UDerlors s .,~a o ~ ~ permitted to me worm aroudd ,~.~ cast a long ~nd quiet lance at fluential, who re~e~'L~ff?c, . w~o ~re truly ]powerfu~ and in- ¯ ~ a ~reat ~ea/ ot unquestioning obedience pompous front. Superiors should oyu, inetflly i andsmeciut trhitayt ibne cheirntadi na Circumstances their subjecu know ~ore than ' matter at hand? ~ey do about displays of condescension "ro~w st o:- these ourel x , . y e 3ernal competence of the superi8or m proDort~on to ¯ . The truly l~r--- the ~n recognizes spontaneously the 7 ~ cat superior speaking, of all these trappings.i nInsi gthniisf ircea~nacred, ist pisir situuraelllyy salutary to read and meditate upon our Eord's r " . sh~p w~th H~s apostles. Nowhere in the ,ospelse~a~'°~e find our Lord making a fuss over SUch trivia, "You me Master and Lord, and you say well, fqr so call therefore, I the Lord and Master have wasOed yIo aumr f~e eIft,, you also ought to wash the feet of one a,nother. ~i~ ~u ]~ ~x~le, that as I hav~ done t~J ~ ~ ~noum oo (in 13:13-15). Regarding the matter of superiors' see~I i'ng coun~s e' l, some reflections are in order. Today, perha~ps more than at any time in the past, given 'the comolekit o tieth-cent . t Y f twen- . ury apostohc activity, it ~s'urgent ~hat superiors tsheeek i nadspviicrae.t iHonolsy o Mf oththee Hr tohle. ,C ch~ur:c_h:, .e v e ~ .s-e ~ns .i t~"ve to necessity in th~ ~-:-~'o- u s y r ~uVle-s- tw~,h picrohw sohees dd oto~tr tohvise ~ve ~rv 5nao-tt -t.hueg amd- vo¯rice es eorniol ubsu -ot uestions t-h.~ ~,k,u .~. .~ o tfLter n r~e" ulres y the consent of councId.ors asq well. Superiors should gladly reco~ize the Chu ~ch's w" -~d-~ta_g ~ersd taoi nojne gg aai~nde dw firlolimng sleye akvina~il ctohue-m~s :e1l~v,e_s7 o.~'-t~sff~ any reason w ,, the., .k_. ,. ,o . ,,o~,. l~or is there sistance and ehn~l i,g~hyt e~n-mouelnat ctoo nthnonsee t /o~eciria sl~l,a arpcpho fionrt eads-for this task. To put the matter very frankl ~: the Holy Spirit is perfectly capable of inspiring eact and every religious in a community with both a supern ttural view-point and useful practical suggestions re. arding the apostolic work entrusted to the communit, blu.n gtin the s " ' . , Far from + we!gh carefullyu tbhjee cstusp mernmaatut~ravl em, ethrieto s u- e~-'m--r sh,ou!d courage the religious to appropriate ~aoc otit oa n~ wtophoesnal ,p eon-s-sible, and in every case welcome the subject's interest and enthusiasm. It is false to suppose that ;vorthwhile l0 t0 K9~ar0l )R, aph,n 3e~r,4 S. .J . , " R e f l e c t i o n s o n O b c, dience," Crc Currents v. Authority VOLUM~ 22, 1963 Robert K~,r~u.~se,., REVIEW FOR REL)GIOUS ideas can emanate exclusively from those in authority. Such an attitude is an affront to the Holy Spirit. Related to the matter of seeking counsel is the matter of openness. Some superiors, regrettably, are excessively secretive even regarding insignificant daily directives. Many of their undertakings are shrouded with an aura.of mystery. The real mystery is what advantage they think derives from such a procedure. It is small wonder that subjects fail to display much enthusiasm for the su-perior's proposals when they are rarely invited to share in the superior's confidence. We would recommend to such superiors prayerful reflection on the words of our Lord spoken in the intimacy of the Last Supper. "No longer do I call you servants, because the servant does not know what his master does. But I have called you friends, because all things that I have heard from my Father I have made.known to you" On 15:15). What a contrast between the conduct of our Lord towards iHis apostles and the conduct of some superiors towards their religious. In this connection it is most helpful for supe-riors to cultivate within their communities a family spirit and that holy familiarity which the term "family" suggests. Nothing is to be gained by remaining aloof and distant. How can one who is aloof and distant touch and quicken the hearts of his subjects with the Spirit.of Christ? We might consider many other practical questions re-garding the Christlike exercise of authority. More im-portant, though, than coming to grips with parti(:ular problems is grasping the ideal which will serve as a guide for the resolution of every problem. That ideal is at once easy to understand and difficult to practice. What would our Lord do if He were in my place? How would He handle this problem? How would He win to Himself this person? To be a good superior demands intimate knowl-edge of our Lord and constant docility to the inspirations of His Spirit. Finally, some comments regarding authority and the mystery of the Redemption. The religious life, as all Christian life, is at the same time both incarnational and eschatological in character. It looks beyond the temporal order to the creation of new hea,~ens and a new earth. Indeed, the mystery of the Incarnation is itself the prin-ciple of this transformation. God makes Himself a sharer in our humanity only that we in turn might: share in His divinity. And ultimately our divinization will be accomplished solely by our personal sharing in the mys-tery of the Redemption. We must make our own the mys-tery of Christ's passover from death to life. With Christ, the great wayfarer, we journey each day through ter-restrial exile and affliction to our celestial dwelling and resurrection. "Wherefore we do not los! heart. On the contrary, even though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by d~y. For our pres-ent light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measure (2 Cor 4:16-17). Every Christian in the fulfillment of h, is vocation en-counters the cross of Christ. Justly does Saint Paul declare that we are ' always beanng about ~n our Ibody the dying of Jesus, so that the life also of Jesus maylbe made mani-fest in our bodily frame" (2 Cor 4:10). Certainly the re-hg~ ous superior ~s no exception to th~s rule. The exercise of authority is a cross. The superior shoul~l willingly em-brace that cross recognizing that only by Isharing in the mystery of the cross is self-love subject to passion and to death and the love of God to renewal and ~o resurrection. "This saying is true: If we have died withI him, we shall also live with him; if we endure, we shall rilso reign with him" (2 Tim 2:11-12). To exercise authority with anxious care is the supe-riot's cross. It requires no small self-sacnfic,e. On the con-trary, thanks to the constant demands of all kinds made ¯ upon his time, his energies, and his interest, the superior is truly "poured out in sacrifice" (2 Tim 4:8). A continu-ing death to self-love attends the wgflant superior s com-mitment to his holy trust. In this context welmust address ourselves to one problem in particular--a problem which occasions the deepest suffering for the conscientious su-perior. Stated in the broadest possible term~s, that prob-lem is one simply of remaining faithful t~o the super-natural order m the face of the pressures wli~ch a purely natural wewpo~nt bnngs to bear on rehgmus hfe and the apostolate. How many superiors are d~str, essed by the disintegration of spiritual values with which they are periodically confronted? How are they to res~pond to this challenge? Doubtless, the question is a vexifi~.g one. In such cases what is clear is that the super!or must re-main faithful to supernatural values. Spec~ous as the temptation to compromise may be, such compromise un-dermines. the very structure of religious life. S~metimes it may appear that only by making concessions to man's innate self-indulgence can harmony be maintained. Are not such concessions a mistake? Has not our ILord Him-self declared: "Do not think that I have come to send peace upon the earth; I have come to bring alsword, not peace., and a man's enemies will be those of his own household" (Mr 10:34-36). Obviously we are not sug-gesung that the superior pounce upon every trifling de-parture from regular &sc~phne. Shortcomings of this kind are usually nothing more than manifestations of our common frailty in persons of genuine goo~,d will. To ÷ ÷ ÷ Authority VOLUME 22, 1963 533 ÷ Robert Krt~e, .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 tax the subject's good will over every peccadillo is hardly a Christlike manner of exercising authority. The situ;t-tion we envisage is far different. We have in mind the case of the religious who deliberately and systematically by his actions and attitudes exhibits practical contempt for the religious life. Cost what it may the superior mtlst courageously resist such a betrayal of religious values. To permit flagrant disregard for the supernatural order to go unchecked is intolerable. It proves demoralizing for those religious honestly striving to fulfill their vows and scan-dalizing for the faithful who almost inevitably become acquainted with such a state of affairs. Certainly in all such cases those in authority must dis-play arl exquisite kindness and sympathy, tempering the rmness of their decisions with tangible benevolence, t,ut I firm tliey must be--for the sake of the religious life it-self. Let St. Paul's exercise of authority be their model: "For though we walk in the flesh, we do not make war according to the flesh; for the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but powerful before God to the demolishing of strongholds, the destroying of reasonings--yes, of every lofty thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every mind into captivity to the .obedience of Christ" (2 Cor 10:3-6). Surely no cross burdens the zeal-ous superior with more anguish than the recalcitrant subject. It taxes both his prudence and his courage to the utmost. Only let him recognize in tiffs cross an instrument for his personal sanctification. For the realization of God's will let him sacrifice his own popularity. To act with firmness and decision seems temperamentally almost impossible for many superiors. Nevertheless, their voca-tion demands just such firmness. In their weakness let them surrender to the Spirit of Christ their Lord, the Spirit of fortitude, who has been poured forth in their hearts. By so doing they will purify their own souls and will contribute significantly to the sanctification of their subjects. For their course of action is self-crucifying and so redeeming. Regarding positive steps to be taken in such situations, it is extremely difficult to generalize. Two suggestions come to mind which may prove of some utility. First, when dealing with such cases it would seem particularly desirable for the superior to work in close harmony with his councilors. Such collaboration contributes signifi-cantly to an objective evaluation of the problem at hand, minimizing the danger of the superior's being prompted by merely human considerations in his analysis of the situation. In addition, one or another councilor may be in a much more advantageous position to cope with the problem than the superior himself. Second, it would seem a duty incumbent upon the superior to neutralize and even to turn to the spiritual advantage of the corn .any d!sedification or scandal ar;~;n~ t_AJ_ ,mun"l.ty ject's behavior Cann~, -~-- .o,,:~ ~,ul~ an unruly sun- ,,L L.c superior exploit this oppor- ~t~rn2~aYn~n~?Cf~lrC~etaer:nnce~hn:ne~ elli:k,gelo,u as s~ ;wttiteuldle sa osf tuon- encourage prayer and sacrifice 'both for dheir delino confrere and for their own . : ¯ v,--o~vc,ance ~n noeiity. This ~uh~ULnb7 odn°noe;~of_ co,urse: ,m. a spirit of h~mility. Passinl~ tiit-~rS snoulo. I~e SCFU U ' " violatioofn - - . e rChh ri.s.t.h. kpe sIpoiruit swlhyi cahv ~ohoiduled dan aimsa ate ! the entire community. Rather, a sense of cornorate re-sponsibility and an awareness of man's Inborn weakness should be developed. In some such anner as this can the superior offset the harm done y th problem reli-b ! gtous in his community. In this article we have attempted to relate the exercise of religious authorit,, to the fun-'- our faith¯ the Incar~nation a--~ -u~a-m- e,~n t-a tt m. ysteries ot ¯ .tt ttte l~eclemDtlon A from such a vision of .~-^-: . t : 2 part dn~,.~.~u ,.~.,. ,~.~. . -,,~:,~,tLty mere e, XlStS tlae real ,at purely natural attitudes will invade our minds and shape our thinking along lihes devoid supernatural dimensio¯ns Such in~r,,o:~-- l_ . - of dured. That is why, practically "s -n~e,a~k,-isn c,~an .nt.o_t _o e, en- ,- ~,,I t,e sole tr .bmee Cashurrt.set s0 ,of wthne eCxherirsctiisaen oe¯xf eirtc ~ioo^,~-- u^-t', -a.".u.[ni o, r¯ltv can onu.e devoted some attention to ¯ xoi tHIS reason we also ¯ authori"ty and ~th e ~¯m~¯ tation of Christ. In closing, we would recommend to all who seek more knowled,,e on the su~-:- - -- ,~ d- ivine Lord¯ For l~ove of Him iosj cbcotr nm oatf t~,~kenyo wstuleadyg oeu orf Him,. and out of love shall grow likeness. And ultimate that ~s all Christian authority needs: to be ~hristlike. ly + + ÷ Authority VOLUME 22~ 196~ BROTHER PHILIP HARRIS, O.S.F. The Parent's Role in Guidance 4. Brother Philip Harris, O.S.F., is the vice president of development of St. Francis College; Brooklyn, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS One area of formal guidance1 in the schools today which has been most neglected but which holds the great-est promise for the future is parent guidance. Although extensive training is now provided for a profession or an occupation, little assistance is offered to the newly-mar-ried couple facing one of the most challenging human responsibilities--the rearing and education of children. The average parents want to do a good job of raising their offspring as useful citizens. But they need the~ as-sistance of educators who are willing to share the fruit of their own special knowledge and experience. Such a partnership with parents can be a.great aid to the over-burdened and under-staffed guidance department as it seeks to help a maximum number of youth in adjusting to a confusing and complex twentieth-century world. By right, and in fact, the parent is the child's principal counselor. Jusot as parents have the primary duty to edu-cate their children, so they have the basic obligation of providing sound guidance to them. Any guidance en-deavors of the school should be based on this premise, for educators only supplement the counsel given to students by their parents. The influence of parents on a child's life decisions is formidable. It is the task of the school also to aid the parent so that the young person makes the correct decisions and attains optimum personal development. It is understandable that in this age of rapid techno-logical changes, vocational opportunity, and personal challenge parents would look to the guidance specialist to help them discover, develop, and direct all of the God-given potentialities of the child. The theme of this con-ference is "The Adjustment of Young People to a World in Accelerated Technical and Economic Evolution." Par-ents possess the opportunity to assist today's youth to be- 1 This is the text of a paper delivered to the International Con-ference on School and Vocational Guidance, Paris, July 16-22, 1962. come tomorrow's successful adults. Ho!ever, the faculty in general and the guidance worker in[particular must help parents to understand the child of tl~ television and the space age, to project themselves into the future so as to determine educational and vocational possibilities for their children in the decades ahead, to appreciate the school and the guidance department's objectives and practices, to utilize good principles of met tal hygiene and right living in their families. Such a plan for cooperative and compiementary child formation by parents and educators must be~in with the pre-school youngster and continue throul~h ~aigher stud-ies. How to accomplish this will be the Isubject of this paper. Before examining the methods for peiping parents to fulfill their natural role as guides, it is ~seful to realize the advantages of such emphasis through t ae student per. sonnel services of the school. Values o[ Parent Guidance A parental guidance program strengthms a schooI's guidance efforts in the following ways: l) Teachers are limited in the amoun~ of time and energy they can devote to helping pupils so~ve their prob-lems and meet life's challenges. Trained counselors, even on the high school level, are few in nurhber and can guide only a fraction of the student bod~. Any sound guidance practices, therefore, that parents can utilize with their offspring will lessen the educator's load and permit school counselors to do more effectiv~ worL 2) Prevention of more serious problems ~hould be the aim of .any. paren.tal gu¯idance effort. If p~rents can be alerted to signs ot emotional disturbances, .to the effects of broken homes or rejection, to their children,s needs especially psychological), to the acceptance Iof their chil- ~tgi~srd.less ,of speci.a.1 talent or limitation~, then many 3) Througinh stchheoiro cl ownitlalc bt ew riethd upcaerden otsr ,a evdouicdaetdo.rs may gain insight into the family background ofttheir pupils and are better able to understand each child! 4) Parents gain a greater appreciation of]the school's program and the teacher's efforts. As a resuh, they may give increased support to school activities, fcr they truly appreciate every endeavor made for their chil ~l's improve-ment. Some of the means for translating these calues into realities through the school's guidance effor follow: Parent Clubs Teachers are familiar with various home-sc/~ ol groups, such as the Parent Teacher Association and Fathers' or Mothers' Guild approach. Such or~anization~. o ]. however, ÷ ÷ ~Pmarde Gntusidance VOLUME 22, 1963 4" 4" 4" Phili~ HaOr.Sr.iFs,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should have a two-way effect. The parents may raise funds for special school projects and assist in other ways; the school should provide, in turn, programs that help the members do a better job in their role as parents. Par-ents with exceptional training and skills may be willilxg to aid pupils and other parents with special knowledge and experience. For example, speakers for a career day can be recruited from a parents' guild; or parents who are doctors, nurses, or psychologists, can be called upon to address the parent group. Volunteer workers of all types from among the pupils' parents may offer free service to the school. A well-functioning parent club can be a deterrent to juvenile delinquency and offer good leisure time activ-ities for both parents and children. It not only will bring the school and home into closer cooperation but also may promote greater harmony and understanding between parent and child. Parent Forums Any aspect of child development or improvement serves as a good topic for a parent forum. It is best ithat parents be invited together who represent children of distinct grade or age levels, such as the upper, middle, or primary grades, or the pre-adolescent or adolescent pe-riod. Thus, there will be some common meeting ground for discussion. The student's intellectual, vocational, so-cial, or moral development can serve as the basis for a number of group conferences. This type of affair can be conducted in various ways. One is to have a guest or faculty speaker whose address is followed by questions from the floor. Another procedure brings in a specialist whose talk is discussed by a panel of parents with a faculty member as moderator. Parents of the graduating or senior class often profit from an educational forum to which representatives of high schools (or colleges) which the graduates will likely attend are invited for individual questioning or group discussion. These general meetings of parents are most effective when they do not take more than two hours for the total program. They may be preceded by some type of audio-visual aid while the assembly hall is slowly filling up. Sometimes films on adolescence or family mental hygiene may be projected and then followed by a discussion led by one of the faculty. Usually parent forums are held in the evening, but a week end or holiday afternoon may prove appropriate. Refreshments served after such events help teachers to meet the parents in a relaxed, social atmosphere. Parent Group Conferences These conferences are small group me~etings of parents and a teacher. If a guidance counselor or~ school l~sychol-ogist is available, these conferences may be arranged with him. These group interviews run'from ~fteen to twenty ~tin.utes and ,gi.ve the parents an. opport,~nity to present ae~r parental ~mpressions and experiences and to hear the educator's evaluation of their child. ~uch interviews have great potential for "preventive" ~ ¯ cational, vocational, or social areas. Tclo{uen tseechhn~n iinq ueed uis, most effecti.ve when these conferences a~e arranged parents a common problem, rot ex!mple, ents of students failing the sam~ two school subjects or the parents of pupils who are truant or.l.the parents of students who are withdrawn and antisocial or the parents of "exceptional" children--such natural groupings will permit the process of multiple counselin~ to take place. The teache~-counselor must prepare for ~he conferences by studying the family background anbdeI t¯horoughly fwahmosilei apra rwenitths mthaek ec uump tuhlea tgirvoeu pre. cords of the studbnts ,u. oSno motm tet~ i.sn p.terorecsetidnugr ree sbeya rPcrho hfaess sboeresn Sreapwo r~tnedd Mona ah vlearr iaa-t Chico State College in the United States. Their gr0ut~ counseling approach included botfi parents and student~. It centered a~0und underachieving pupils and involved a series of eight sessions where freedom of e~xpression was uppermost. First, students were asked to sit in a circle of six with a counselor, while the parents Isat off to the side as observers. Then, after personal introductions stu-dents were asked to express their feelings a~s to why ,they were ,u.nderach.ieving. The sessions were structured aproos.tut~.moan sK weye rteo ps,w cist cohre qdu, ewstiitohn tsh. eA pfaterre nthtsir itn3 ~th mei ncuirtcesle the and the youth as observers. Prior to such meetings~, it is helpful if both parents and students fill out an inventory of their attitudes toward each other and sc[ ool. Gradually, parent and offspring will gain insight into their own personal relationships and uriders~ anding as to why the child is not obtaining better grade.,. A plan for improvement can be developed, and a gap of time be-tween the fifth and the last two sessions will )ermit them to try out these ideas in practice. Then, th~ final guid-ance periods can be devoted to reports of success or fail-ure as well as a realistic review with implications for the future. The initial results of this technique i adicate that such family counseling can become a useful part of the school guidance program. Parents and Guidance + + ÷ Philip Harris, O .S.F. REVIEW FOR REL]G|OUS 540 Individual Parent Guidance Teachers and administrators have long met with par-ents on an individual basis to discuss their mutual con.- cern--the student. Frequently, such meetings were con-cerned with an analysis of the pupil's problems, abilitiet~, potential, and plans. However, this old technique can be made more effective by the use of some modern ap-proaches. For example, with the student's permission, his autobiography, anecdotal records, test results and ventories may be interpreted and discussed with parents. Another useful procedure is role-playing--the teacher switching to the role of the parent or the child and pos-sibly the parent switching to the role of the student. Or, the youth may be invited to attend the session to explain his feelings or position, or to "role-play" his parents. Parent Bulletins and Reports In addition to the written reports commonly given to parents by schools, bulletins which interpret standard-ized test results may be prepared to help parents gain greater insight into their child's abilities, aptitudes, and interests. A newsletter can be issued by the guidance de-partment, principal, or parent organization on: com-munity guidance and psychological resources; suggested means of helping a child with specific physical, psycho-logical, or social problems; a bibliography of free or in-expensive publications useful in the guidance of youth, of use to parents; scholarship or student aid opportuni-ties; entrance requirements of local institutions of higher education; projects for family group recreation; adoles-cent needs and conflicts; and principles of good human relations in the home. In working with modern parents, it is wise to consider the changes that have taken place in parental attitudes toward education and their goals as parents. The Chang-ing American Parent by Daniel R. Miller and Guy E. Swanson (New York: Wiley, 1959) is but one example of published reports that provide much light on the sub-ject. Many guidance books for teachers contain a chapter or two on working with parents. A recent volume, for example, Guidance in the Elementary Classroom by Gerald and Norma Kowitz (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959) devotes the last chapter to "Counseling with Par-ents." Another recommended work is Adlerian Family Counseling edited by Dreikurs-Corsini-Lowe-Sonstegard (University of Oregon Press). The school's attempt to aid the parents to fulfill their God-given responsibilities as guides to their own children will undoubtedly prove fruitful in the good accomplished attaining the objectives of the school guidance service, in saving on teacher time and energy, and in the, good public relations thus promoted. SISTER TERESA MARY, C.S.CI Religious 0 ce and Critical Thinking It is often said that we are living in a critical t.he people of the present tim . L . a.ge,. T, hat mose of the ,~, o,~L- _, ~- ,~-,: naor,e critical t~aa consc.musne~s s. .o.f. t~h,e,, ~co, mat pteIeaxstl tmy opfa rtth, efr uon~i tvheerisre g. eMateenr recognize that they must constantly adapt [their thinking to manifold new discoveries being made.~ While it is not necessary to doubt the existence of absolutes as some of I our contemporaries do, the need. to recq~ze relative aspects of man's being and knowledge o~ the world is much more apparent today than ever b~fore A new manifestation of the evolutionary ~rocess in th ha,s . ~coe ab?y~ largely because ot t~he ~e~t ro e world ~twy esncthioetlhar cs einnt uthreiesse Mpeoriroedosv eisr, bethe ~ i"nng o cw o¯~m ~em,~ u g -ne i c a a a.te c~ea~ath m content and method to large masses of or " ~eople. The spread of scientifi- -~ . ,-- , dreary the development of the crit~ic ~a-lu supginrti tn eacmespsnargil ym menea. nIss this critical spirit a good or an evil for them? than e a s g ~re Although the wordc .n.t~.osm,, often e a to break down some existing structurec ownintohtoeus ta desire apprec~atmn of facts~ ~t need not have th:~ 1 . ~rop~r meamng As a genuine intellectual effort, ~,t~s ure-sfuolrttsu nmaatye more often be presupposed as good and ~onstructive. Criticism is usually offered out o~ a sincere ~ntent'on to better the existing structure, not to destroy i~, and~is the m~ural product o~ a creative mind. Without seein~ the ~ ly as the values which he holds have been critically examined, Sister Teresa ra~"mnally acceet~d,.an~ then u~e Mary, 5 as general guides to behavior is in-ra~ her than as ng~d mvmlable principles can the perso~ be character- structor in theolo~ ~zed ~ liberally educated." Paul L. Dressel, "'The Role of Critical at St. Mary's Col-Thinking in Acquiring Enduring Attitudes and lege; Notre Dame, w~th Revolutionary Chan~es ~ . Know'ledge to Deal Indiana. National Con er~ . ~. ?~.u, a paper presente~ to a. 19 .~ f . u n~gner Education in Ch'cz£. ~ ~' v0~v~ ~, ÷ + ÷ Sister Teresa Mary, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS deficiencies in the current state of our existence, individ-ually and within a group, we cannot even maintain our present good, much less acquire all the good that is po:~- sible for us.2 The tendency of the modern age to be critical can, if rightly exercised, open up wider oppo:r-tunities for full human existence. Having recognized the value of the critical process in human activity, we come to the problem of this article, to consider the relationship of criticism to the virtue o[ obedience in the religious life. While attachment to per-sonal judgment has always been the crucial issue in the question of obedience, this matter takes on added dimen-sions in an age which emphasizes the value of a good, free, critical personal judgment. When a subject has been educated to think for himself, there is bound to be a se-vere adjustment for his personality if he is obliged to give this up in the interest of religious obedience. Part of our problem will be to determine whether the subject of obe-dience is obliged to give up personal judgment in any way and, if not, how he is to coordinate a conflicting judgment with the will of the superior. The following examples from current articles should suffice to show that there are a variety of answers to the problem of obedience. These answers have seldom been compared so that some sharp differences among them could be properly noted. It will be well to look at them first before trying to answer whether religious obedience and critical thinking are compatible. All authors, of course, agree on two points: the supe-rior's will is to be obeyed in all commands which are not sinful, and this obedience must be more than a mere external execution of the command; as a genuine human act it must flow from self-determination to the goodness of the act of obedience. The religious subject recognizes in the light of faith that the superior has been invested with authority in a congregation estab
MARCH, J900 Qettysbur Mercury CONTENTS. The Power of Ignorance, 1 Remembrance, 8 The Death of King Solomon 8 The Uses of Dreams,. 13 Editor's Desk, 17 A Word Deserved, 18 Meeting of The Pennsylvania College Alumni Association of Harrisburg, 19 The Veil of Separation 20 The Dead on Expansion, 21 The Old Chief and The Black-smith, 22 Why We Broke Camp, 27 At The Breakfast Table 30 GETTYSBURG COLLEGE LIBRARY .GETTYSBU^!§bRG C DUPLiCfA'. i FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and . Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. Have you an assured -&&& R. I. ELLIOTT Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGAR S. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. %/& tgr? Mr* Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. Would you try for a government posi-tion, if you knew just how to am" and the kinds __ positions from which you can choose, and what to do to insure your getting on the list after you have applied 1 The Government of the United States is the best of employers. Fair compen-sation, regularity of payment, reason-ably sure tenure, tasks not too difficult, i ana hours not too long, offer strong at-tractions to young personsof both sexes whohavenosettledincome. Manyenter Government employ, spend their spare i hours in studying law or medicine, or finance, and save enough from their salaries to start In a professional or business career. We have just published a book from whlchemy candidate may learn just what is necessary and wliat tinnecessary in | brushing up his studies for an examina-tion: and what his chancesare, all things considered, for making his way into the I Civil Service, and staying there. The title of this book is "How to Prepare i'or a Civil Service Examination ; U Hh Recent Questions and An- , swers." It contains all Information which any candidate would require to firepare for any competitive office under he Government, and includes a "Ten weeks1 Course of Study,"ln the form of questions actually asked at recent ex-aminations, with the correct answers to , them. Besides the technical require- ' menta. It also covers all the elementary branches, like arithmetic, spelling, pen- | manship, geography, letter writing, civil government, etc., etc., so that one who masters this course of study would not only pass well an examination for o, yov- , ernment position, but would be cure of I preferment over other applicants for a clerkship in a business house. CLOTH—$2.00 Postpaid—560 PAGES Another booJciree(Quick atFigures)if you mention this paper when ordering. mros & NOBLE, Publishers ' 4-6-13-14 Cooper Institute, N. Y. City SchoolbooTcs ofall publishersat one store .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1900. No. 1 THE POWER OP IGINORAINCE. [ABSTRACT OF A LECTURE BEFORE THE TEACHERS' INSTITUTE, JANUARY 27TH, BY PROF. O. G. KLINGER.] I AM here to engage your attention for a little while in a sub-ject which is too seldom considered, but rich in educational value. It is the " Power of Ignorance." We often hear of the power of knowledge—it has been the pet theme of platform speakers for many generations ; but who has stopped to consider the power of the unformed intellect, or of the intellect developed but dominated by some blinding prejudice, or pride of opinion ? And yet Ignorance has played as mighty a part in the world's drama as Knowledge. All the domain which Knowledge calls her own has been wrested from Ignorance. Ignorance, dark, gloomy, superstitious, destructive, first; knowledge second—at the beginning a glimmer, a mere insight, a guess, and then a growing light—at the present a great luminary, an hour above the horizon. All that makes our nineteenth century habitable for men and women, such as you, is the product of advancing science. No other age has been so great as our age, because Knowledge has stricken off the shackles of superstition, shaken the obstinacy of bigotry, deepened the sympathies, augmented the value of human life, converted the forces of nature into servants, established the dignity of self-hood, brought freedom to light, conquered the ocean and annihilated space. Her advance has been in the face of Ignorance, which at each moment has con-tested with pen and fire and sword her progress. My object this evening will be to set forth as clearly as I may be able the power of this antagonist of knowledge, that in the light of it you may see more clearly the sanctity of freedom of research, freedom of thought, and freedom of speech. QETTYSBU*G COLLEGE LIBRARY GETTYSBURG, PA^ THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Remember, that knowledge is power only when it informs some human will, and directs some human choice. Knowledge concealed within the lids of books is not power—it is so much waste paper so far as the world's progress is concerned. It must possess the mind, illumine the intellect, impel the will in its choices, and become a human force. And by ignorance I mean the mind that is not informed, a will that makes its choices in the dark ; a htiman force without direction. But this is not the only kind of ignorance. It has happened in the world's history that men and nations of large culture have been so dominated by pre-judice, by pride of opinion, by love of party, by bigotry, as to avert from themselves the best blessings which the merciful Father had designed for them. There are wise fools in the world as well as dullones, and bigotry, which is but a form of ignorance, has been a great obstacle in the path of progress. Our thought must search for its illustrations in the cabinet of History, and they will not be difficult to find. Every page is re-plete with them. We take those that strike the eye first, because of their magnitude—conspicuous examples of the blighting effects of gross ignorance, and the more refined but less hopeful bigotry. I refer to the Barbarian invasion of Rome, the fall of Alexandria, the massacre of St. Bartholomew, and England's loss of her American Colonies. The tidal wave of ancient civilization, which took its rise in Egypt and the Mesopotamia, never flowed farther north than the Black Sea, the Carpathian mountains, and the Rhine river. Be-yond these boundaries lay in dark obscurity the terra incognita. Of this whole, vast, indefinite stretch the ancients had only the most meagre information, and they peopled it with the most hor-rible, most fantastic creatures of the imagination, as children fill the dark with hobgoblins and spooks. And as though their fears had been prophetic, out of this very region were to come the forces which would overturn their government, raze their cities, crush their pride, and extinguish their culture. The old civilization reached its maximum development in Greece and Rome—the former leading and the latter following in the sequence of history. In Greece it was expressed in a litera-ture and art the most perfect the world has ever enjoyed ; in Rome it took the form of an architecture, " full of expression of gigantic power and strength of will." The former gave to the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. world the Parthenon ; the latter the Coliseum. The former fur-nished ideals of the beautiful; the latter ideals of social order. Greece has since been the teacher of all that pertains to the aesthetic nature ; Rome of all that pertains to government and jurisprudence. ?j£ ?|s *f% yf* 5|* 'J^ *f* *"p While Greece was achieving her greatest triumph—while adorning her cities with the most exquisite art, perfecting her language, and evolving her beautiful philosophy ; while Rome was rearing triumphal arches, sending nation after nation under the yoke, and welding together the whole civilized world into one massive empire—up in this region of the north there was a strange restlessness, of which the southern nations never dreamed, but which forbode for them the most direful consequences. A dreary stretch of forest, reaching from the Rhine to the North Sea, unbroken save here and there by patches of cultivated land—a wilderness of mighty trees, which bowed their heads be-fore the Blusterer of the north, or sank beneath the weight of years, but at whose root the woodman's axe was seldom laid— whose deep recesses furnished safe retreats for bear and the wild-boar— such was Europe in the third century Anno Domini when the Goths first emerged from its retreats and stood upon the banks of the Danube. Great people they were, tall and massive of shoulder, with great swelling muscles—a giant each one, whose tawny hair, reaching to the shoulder, was his especial pride. From under shaggy eye-brows gleamed eyes which seemed cut out of blue Arctic ice, reflecting every flash of passion, and terrible when lit up with the rage of battle. Great animals, with the germ in them of great souls, true to their word, loathing nothing so much as shame and cowardice, with heart attuned to carnage, afraid to die elsewhere than on the battlefield—whose Heaven even was a Val-halla of eternal conflict—such were the Goths. Beyond them towards the east dwelt the Huns, a Tartar tribe. Let Gibbon describe them : '' These savages of Scythia were com-pared to the animals which walk very awkwardly on two legs. They were distinguished from the rest of the human species by their broad shoulders, flat noses, and small black eyes, deeply buried in the head ; and as they were almost destitute of beards, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. they never enjoyed either the manly grace of youth or the vener-able aspect of age." To render them more hideous still, while they were yet of tender age their parents gashed their cheeks with knives that their faces might look more ferocious with the ugly scars. They were so constantly on horseback that their legs received the curve of the horse's body. Their hideous appear-ance was a true index of their character—ruthless, lustful; they struck terror into the hearts of their enemies on the field of battle. Beyond them dwelt another tribe of people, of whose origin we know nothing, and of whose character we know little. The Sienpi were the natural enemies of the Huns, into whose terri-tory they made frequent incursions. Brave and savage, skilled in the use of such weapons as they had, they were able to chill with terror even the hearts of such creatures as the Huns. It is probable that under the pressure of these implacable foes the Huns migrated from their ancient seats, near the Chinese Empire, towards the west. Their coming in countless hordes was an astonishment to the valiant Goths, who trembled before their uncouth enemies and retreated before their onslaught. Thus it happened that in the fourth century of our era, the Goths suddenly appeared upon the banks of the Danube and besought a refuge within the bounds of the Roman Empire. Their petition was at length granted, and the fate of the South was sealed. At once, on the death of the great Theodosius, occurred the revolt of the Gothic tribes. Under the leadership of Alaric, after various vicissitudes, they traversed the country from the Danube southward and sought a rich harvest of fame and treasure in the fair land of Greece. Passing, without opposition, through the pass of Thermopylae, they ravaged the whole country to the plains of Sparta. *A* *A* *1* *±* *1^ *Jf* ^^ *^ *f* ^ *j* *r» *T* *T* *r* 'T* You have read of, even if you have never seen, the devas-tating power of the cyclone. The sun rises upon a stretch of prairie, beautiful with swaying grain, and dotted with towns and villages. The sky overhead is flecked with shredded clouds, which reflect and refract the sun's rays—distant prisms of hazy texture. Suddenly from out the sky, with scarcely a moment's warning, comes a mighty shadow. Your ear is startled by the deep bellowing of winds as they struggle in the upper air. Dower THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and lower they force each other in their whirling conflict. The one from the west hurls back the one from the east, and, with in-conceivable rapidity, the storm-cloud, lightning-riven, skims the earth. You know the rest. The sun sets at evening upon a blighted land, filled with ruin and death. \1A *JJ «X* *.IA »L* *±? ^f *!_.* if* if* *f* ^f* *J* ^T* *J* 'I* The passing of Alaric and his Goths left Greece stripped of her beauty ; her temples lying in ruins; her sculpture broken and stripped of its golden plates ; her towns and villages a mass of burning embers. '' The whole territory of Attica, from the prom-ontory of Sunium to the town of Megara was blasted by his baleful presence ; and, if we may use the comparison of a contem-porary philosopher, Athens itself resembled the bleeding and empty skin of a slaughtered victim." The cyclone of ignorance has passed, and what the centuries had achieved of all that ap-peals to the aesthetic nature was in a day destroyed by the barba-rians, whose natures were insensible to the allurements of beauty, except as it was expressed in the grace and symmetry of the female form. Alexandria, founded at the mouth of the Nile by Alexander the Great, and coming under the sovereignty of Ptolemy Soter, and afterwards of his son, Philadelphus, became under their fostering care, and by reason of its location, the foremost city of its day, and the real center of the Hellenistic world. It was from her that the Romans received the Greek civilization, which wrought such a miracle among them ; from her that the literary and artistic in-fluences went forth to mold the taste of Europe ; it was in her that poets and critics wrote and labored in the Hellenistic period. For the Ptolemies were patrons of art and literature, and invited to their court the learned from all parts of the world. To facili-tate research, a great museum, similar in character to our modern university, and a great library were established. Here were gath-ered the manuscripts of all the Hellenic writers, great and small. These the scholars of Alexandria, from the third century B.C. downward, sifted, preserving what was of value and destroying what was worthless. The works of the great thinkers, from Homer to Demosthenes, were edited, and their scholia form the foundations of all modern critical study. This happy state of things continued until the time of Bishop THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Theophilus, " the perpetual enemy of peace and virtue ; a bold, bad man, whose hands were alternately polluted with gold and blood." This narrow-minded bigot, caring only for power, knowing little of the glory of Greek literature, and caring less, pillaged the library, destroyed the compositions of ancient genius, and forever impoverished the world of scholarship. " Nearly twenty years afterwards, the appearance of the empty shelves ex-cited the regret and indignation of every spectator whose mind was not totally darkened by religious prejudice." Nor did the exquisite art which adorned the streets, as well as temples and private homes, suffer a less bitter fate. Images of gold and silver were melted, and those of inferior material were broken to bits and cast into the streets. Thus could religious fanaticism, inflaming the heart of an unscrupulous, ecclesiastical politician, and blinding his eyes to the enormity of his crime, subvert and destroy in a few hours what scholarship had accumu-lated during six centuries of labor. *J* 5JC ftfi *jC *fs 3j£ ?JC 5JC The darkest page in the history of France is that which re-cords the power and influence of the Guises. Hand in hand with the Queen-mother, Catherine de Medici, they labored for the ex-termination of the Huguenots. To trace here the intricate schemes, the diabolical plottings, the attempts at assassination, the submission of truth and honor to accomplish their design, would require too great a space. After unwearying effort, con-tinued through several years, they at length succeeded in winning the King's reluctant consent to the massacre of St. Bartholomew. At a given signal, in the early morning, the work of destruction began with the murder of Coligni, and when it ceased three days later, fully thirty thousand Huguenots had miserably perished at the hands of the Catholics. The persecution of the Protestants of France continued with varying degrees of savage intensity until the time of Louis XIV. This monarch, when old, was tormented by the memory of his many evil deeds, and sought some way in which he might atone for them before Almighty God. That way was suggested by his Queen, Madame de Maintenon. In pursuance of her awful plan, L,ouis revoked the Edict of Nantes, and outlawed every Huguenot who refused to embrace the Catholic faith. By this act of religious bigotry '' fully three hundred thousand of the most THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. skillful and industrious of the subjects of Louis were driven out of the kingdom. Several of the most important and flourishing of the French industries were ruined, while the manufacturing interests of other countries were correspondingly benefited by the energy, skill and capital which the exiles carried with them." Many of them found their way to America, and their descendants have been among our most distinguished citizens. It is hardly too much to say that France has never recovered fully from the disastrous effects of Iyouis' infamous policy. *(£ 5jC 5|C ^|C 5J» *j£ *(> *1^ In the history of the world it has never been the privilege of any other nation to have such colonial possessions as had England in the New World. Her government of the colonies was one colossal blunder from the beginning, but it remained for the ob-stinacy of George the Third to alienate them wholly and convert them into "a government of the people, by the people and for the people." " He had," says Green, " a smaller mind than any English king before him, save James the Second. He was wretchedly educated, and his natural powers were of the meanest sort.'' He had but one idea—to embody in himself all the powers of the government. " Be a king, George," had been the contin-ually repeated exhortation of his mother from his early youth, and to be a king George thought he must be a tyrant. The story of his tyrannical acts which before twenty years had passed by had driven the American colonies into revolution and independence, and brought England to the verge of ruin, is known to every schoolboy, and would be a twice-told tale if repeated before this audience. L,et it suffice that we in America owe the government, of which we are so proud, to the conceit of one who was the most conspicuous failure that ever disgraced the English throne—to him we owe all, but for it all owe him no thanks. *«i* xL* *1* ^U -J-* *£* •& ^S ^^ *X* *T* *T* *T* *T* I am done. My effort has been to suggest to you the de-structive and pernicious power of ignorance in some of its most common forms. In spite of advancing science, superstition and bigotry and fanaticism still persist, though happily their power is limited in our day to the pen. Our eye is set on that day, no longer far removed, when freedom of thought and speech shall no longer be challenged; when the minds of scholars shall be free from prejudice; when the common man of our land, as in ancient 8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Greece, shall be able to appreciate arid to enjoy the finest art and literature; when in the workshop and on the farm, at the anvil and before the mast, we shall have men who think. The dawn has already broken; the full day will come in its own good time. REMEMBRANCE, If, perchance, in days to come, A truant thought strays back to me, Pray, believe the kindest ones In turn, are entertained of thee. As the sands along- the shore, To-day are thrown upon the beach, And to-morrow waves return To hurl them far beyond our reach; So the friends of yesterday, The ones we always held so dear, Quietly vanish from our sight, And leave us waiting, lonely here. —B. THE DEATH OF KING SOLOMON. THE king paused in his walk and, leaning against one of the tall pillars of the porch of the palace, gazed long at the flashing glory of the temple which rested like a diadem upon the brow of Mount Moriah. The sun had set ablaze the towering pinnacles of the building, and the burnished gold burned and flashed in the red rays of the setting sun. Already the purple shadows were creeping between the columns, and as the king gazed his face was exceeding sad and the shadows on his brow were deep as those between the columns. His waving hair was whitened by the frosts of three score winters. His eyes had not lost their piercing gaze, but his forehead was furrowed by care and his face had much of the sadness which too much self-indul-gence and the too familiar knowledge of the heartless world en-gender. His cheekbones were high and his chin rather promi-nent. The very spirit of majestic command seemed expressed in all his features. Yet withal, there could be traced about the mouth and eyes those delicate markings which are the imprint of a kindly, generous nature, and which contradicted the cynical THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. expression which sometimes swept like the hand of a demon across his features. In his eyes and towering forehead there was a suggestion of that gigantic intellect which had grappled with all the problems of the universe. Kindly, just and God-fearing, yet self-indulgent, and led astray in his quest of happiness, the sadness which burdened his great soul was mirrored in his coun-tenance. Solomon, the mighty ruler, the matchless judge, the wisest scholar, the profouudcst philosopher and the learned psy-chologist— this Solomon, was old, and weary, and brokenhearted, troubled by the disasters to his great empire, which he foresaw, sad at the thought of many wasted years. As the sun sank below the horizon, he turned away from the temple and cast a momentary glance at the magnificence about him ; then with a gesture of contempt, he walked slowly into the cool, shadowy gardens of his palace. Long but slowly he paced among the shadowy paths, engaged in profound thought. It seemed as if his God, with whom he had once walked very inti-mately, granted him a knowledge of the close approach of death ; for suddenly he straightened his stooping shoulders and lifting his hand beneath a light where the gesture might be seen, he summoned the ever alert attendants. It was the king's will that the court be summoned. Swift runners sped from palace to palace in luxurious Jerusalem. Lords and courtiers rose from banqueting tables and hastened, wonder-ing, toward the palace. For had they not been summoned by the royal word ? And who in all the land might delay when King Solomon called? Surely, none. The great hall of justice was ablaze with light. Throngs of whispering nobles were the evidence of surprise at this night summons. Suddenly all were hushed. The heavy curtains at the royal entrance had been held aside and now the solitary figure of the king moved past the kneeling nobles to the great throne of ivory and gold. The king took his seat between the huge, crouching, golden lions and looked awhile in silence from one face to another. Some were old and tried friends and counsellors who had been with him when as a young man he had received the sceptre from the hand of Israel's God and his father, the royal David. Others were younger, and as his eye glanced from one to another, he thought of their fathers, some of whom were mighty warriors, others wise counsellors. IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. At length bespoke: "Oh Nobles, I have summoned you hither this night, at this unaccustomed hour, to bid you farewell. This evening, for the last time, I saw the red light of the depart-ing sun kiss the house of our God, resting upon it like a beuison from the Most High. "I go unto my fathers. To-night, ere the first rays of the morning sun laugh on the waters of Jordan and wake our queenly city from her slumbers, I go on the last, long journey. I am old and very weary of life, and I go to the grave, whither ye all are hastening. '' Oh Nobles—Counsellors and Warriors—ye whose heads are hoar, and who follow me soon, long have we labored together for beloved Israel. Some, perchance, even knew my father, David. Oh, grey-heads ! your king loves you. " And ye, whose raven locks the frosts of many winters may yet whiten, sons of mighty men, my young men, your king loves you not less. Be ye faithful as your fathers to the God of Israel and your king. " Ye have seen my race, which now is nearly run. To the dominions of my father I have added, and have made Israel ex-ceeding strong and mighty. Ye, too, saw me turn aside from following after Jehovah. Ye know the punishment—how I must have this fair kingdom rent and torn from me. But know that the God of Israel, in his measureless kindness and mercy, which are even as the fathomless space of the whirling orbs, has par-doned my transgression and forgiven my sin. " Now the hour is come and your king goes to the court of the Ruler of the universe. My nobles—counsellors, warriors and statesmen—remember your love for Solomon and stand faithful. Turn ye not aside after riches and honor. 'A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold. The rich and poor meet together; the Lord is the maker of them all. A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth.' " 'Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good or whether it be evil.' " But the night flees and my strength fails. This night, ere the rosy morning descends from the hills and touches the purple vineyards, I will to be borne to my palace which is beyond Giloh. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. II For, oh Nobles, know that a weary old man wishes, in his weak-ness, to look once more upon his pleasant palace which gleams in its whiteness, amid the green gardens, and from there be gathered unto his fathers. ' Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.' " And now, fare ye well, my Lords ; may the mighty God of Israel be with you. Oh my children, a long farewell." The king stood for a moment with hands outstretched in bless-ing over the silent, awe-struck nobles, then moved with calm and composed step down from the throne at whose base the world had bowed. He gazed a moment longer at the assemblage of grey-headed men, who were separate ; then with a last majestic wave of the hand he passed from the judgment hall and the sight of his nobles forever. He hastened to his waiting chariot and was borne slowly along the road which leads to Hebron. His palace and gardens, with their pools which lay like three turquoise amid a sea of emerald, were his destination. Only once did the king rouse himself from the reverie into which he had fallen. As the white splendor of Jerusalem, bathed in the tropic full-moon, was disappearing behind him, he stood up in the rocking chariot, and with a gesture of matchless dignity, bade a last adieu to his queenly capital. Then he lapsed again into reverie. And of what did he dream? Who can say? Perchance it was of the future, per-chance of the past. Of that past when he ruled at Jerusalem, while the wealth of the world was poured in front of the lions of his ivory throne. The memories of a sacred and glorious past must have thronged upon him. Along this very road the mighty David passed and repassed. Here he had kept his father's flocks as a youth. Back and forth in this vicinity the jealous Saul had hunted him. Yonder, in the velvetry blackness, sleeps Rachel, the beloved of Jacob. There, alone, through the centuries, her ashes rest. A little farther on, at Giloh, the house of Ahithophel, the faithful counsellor of David, suggests its train of memories ; or perhaps some glorious vision of this plain, as it was destined tq appear, bathed in glittering light and echoing to the " Glory, in the Highest" of the angels, may have been vouchsafed to this son of David. And now, beyond Giloh, the chariot approaches the palace, 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. in the midst of its gardens. The weary old monarch steps from his chariot as he has done so often before at this spot. Hither, in the past, he has come in the dewey morning to find rest and quiet. And now, in the evening of his life, the king comes to his beautiful gardens to die. How the heart of that mighty ruler must have grieved as he looked back over the desolate years of which he had exclaimed "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity!" Slowly the king passes between the sculptured columns of his marble palace which rise, slender and graceful, to the distant roof swimming in dusky shadow; on between the two statuesque guards in their golden armor ; on, into the palace with its purple velvets and its tapestries. Fountains murmur and tinkle about him ; rare birds, strange beasts, gathered from the four corners of the world for the pleasure of this mighty potentate, are all around him. The mingled odors of many flowers float to his nostrils. But they are all unnoticed. In sad and solemn quiet the king paces slowly to his chamber. It has been whispered that the king wishes quiet and to be left alone, and the palace which in the years of the past has been filled with music and oftentimes with the sounds of revelry, seems to be without human inhabitant, and as silent as some great, white mausoleum. Only once, at the break of day, the attendants steal to the chamber of the king, and behold his form outstretched upon the couch, then as if terrified by the sight of the angel of death hovering over the king, they disappear. So, not surrounded by the nobles of the land or by sorrowing dear ones, but alone, the spirit of King Solomon stands on the •brink of the dark waters of the river of death and awaits the sum-mons of the most high God. Thus, while in communion with Jehovah, his spirit unterrified by the approach of death, is con-ducted into the council-chamber of the universe. And Israel's greatest king is dead. For "God's finger touched him," and even as the stars began to fade the mighty spirit of King Solomon had winged its flight into the unknown. Once more the lord of day ascends the dark mountains of Moab, and gleams upon the white palace which rests on the crest of a hill amid its green gardens like the white foam upon the crest of some dark-green wave of the ocean. In this palace, designed only for pleasure and joy, there is sadness and gloom. But the features of the king are tranquil and placid in death. Fven as at THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 13 evening the setting sun may break through the clouds and shine over the gray ocean, soothing the tired waters to rest, so now the morning sun lights up the countenance of the king and shows the perfect peace which has taken the place of the sadness and trouble. Amid the grief of a nation the king has gone to his last, long rest. —Max. THE USES OF DREAMS. C. L. '01. IT may be of interest to note at the outset some of the physical and the psychological phenomena of dreams. " A dream is a train of thought, images or phantasies, that passes through the mind in sleep.'' In dreams we lose all voluntary control over our thoughts, and our minds are, as it were, freed from all re-straints, turned out of the boundaries set by will, and left to roam at pleasure through almost infinite areas of thought and imagina-tion. Some claim that the activity of the soul does not cease for a single moment, and that dreams are one of the results of this constant activity. Others affirm, with equal certainty, that the soul has periods of inactivity and rest, when our sleep is entirely devoid of dreams. But does it not seem more reasonable that we forget our dreams, or rather fail to recollect them ? It is true, of course, that the action of the soul during the hours of slumber is much more feeble than during waking hours, but even this statement cannot be made without exception. Un-doubtedly the imagination is, at times, more lively in sleep than at any other time. A person, whose imagination is notably dull and lifeless, can, oftentimes, especially when just lapsing into un-consciousness, picture before his mind the most lovely, Edenic bowers, fairy landscapes, and scenic views that divest even Alpine glories of their rapturous charms. Occasionally the mind is very active also during periods of somnolence. This is proved by the fact that mathematicians, after having worked for days and weeks, perhaps, on a difficult problem, have finally solved it while wrapped in sleep. Again many persons of small originality and creative genius have composed poems of a merit that would have justly surprised them when awake, and have preached sermons and delivered lectures to enraptured audiences. Some persons of little or no musical ability have in their dreams outrivaled Mozart 14 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and Beethooven in their musical productions, and their render-ing of them, and surpassed Jenny Lind and Patti in their vocal successes. The idea that the ancients had of dreams was vastly different from that which prevails at present. When superstition and witchcraft were fastened to everybody's creed, when ghosts stalked to and fro in every graveyard and haunted the scene of every murder, when enchanting sprites, bewitching elves, and diabolical imps jostled each other in the minds of nobleman and peasant, a dream was thought to be something of great import-ance and of good or evil omen. As each succeeding age has broken one or more of the super-stitious fetters with which it was bound and has approached nature and nature's God, and looked at nature not as a blind in-congruous force, but as an orderly and harmonious creation, evil has been traced to its source and found to consist not in the un-accountable and uncontrollable flights of a fanciful imagination, but in natural laws that have been violated or broken. This contrast may be explained by the difference between ancient and modern philosophy in accounting for the origin of evil. In Homer the thought is often emphasized that " Dreams come from Zeus," and a dream often meant as much as the flight of birds or the con-dition of the inspected vitals. The undertaking of an important expedition or of a desperate conflict often turned upon a dream of an officer during the preceding night, and many an unsuc-cessful exploit or disastrous defeat was traced to an ill-omened dream. Just after the expedition of " The Ten Thousand Im-mortals " had started on its perilous journey toward the capital of " The Great King," Xenophon, the leader of the expedition, had a dream in which, in the midst of a terrific thunder storm, he saw a ball of lightning fall upon his father's house, enveloping it in flames. The report following the bolt waked him. He considered the dream favorable because it seemed to be a token sent from Zeus, the author of dreams. On the other hand it seemed like an evil omen in that it might be interpreted that the " Immortals " were to be surrounded by the barbarian hordes as the house had been by the flames. No doubt the wretched failure of the expedition was largely accounted for by the commander's dream. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 15 Possibly no other book is so replete with stories of dreams as the Bible. It is reasonable to suppose that before the dawning of the " New Dispensation " divine communications were often sent to mortals through the media of dreams. Joseph's dreams seemed to his jealous brothers, and also to his devoted father, to be a mere idle, if not presumptuous, fancy of superiority over them. His brothers hated him because of their own interpreta-tion of his dreams. They were unable to free their minds of the unpleasant prophesies which they thought the dreams contained, so they cast him in a pit at Dothan, and then, as if to make more sure against the dreams' fulfillment they bartered him off to an Egypt-bound caravan of Ishmaelites. This " Dreamer " in-terpreted his own dream, and his brorhers were, afterwards, only too glad to make obeisance to his fruitful sheaf. Passing by many significant dreams, let us notice the dream which came to Joseph, husband of Man', the mother of Jesus. He was warned in a dream not to remain in Judea, but "to take the young child and his mother and flee into Egypt." Upon the prompt obedience to this dream depended the life of the infant Jesus. Had Pilate heeded the warning of his wife's dream, he would not have delivered up Jesus to be crucified. In these in-stances dreams seemed to be angelic messengers from God with important dispatches. We recall the dream of the late, venerable Dr. A. J. Gordon, pastor of the Clarendon Street Baptist Church, Boston, which in-spired him to write that popular book, "How Christ Came to Church." In his preface the author states that he is not so sup-erstitious as to believe that every dream has a good or a bad meaning, but he believes, as in his own dream, we may learn val-uable lessons and receive wonderful inspiration even from dreams. Indeed, there are many cases on record where a dream has in-spired the mind to accomplish a skillful and even a masterful fete. Coleridge's " Kubla Khan" was suggested to him by a dream while he sat napping in his chair. Upon awaking, he seized his pen and wrote from memory that composition. The great musician, Tartani, composed his famous "Devil's Sonata" under the influence of a dream, in which his Satanic Majesty en-chanted Tartani by his wonderful exhibition of skill upon the violin, and challenged the dreamer to a match. As soon as Tar- i6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. tani awoke he took up his violin and composed, in answer to the challenge, the above named composition. In the time of Shakespeare dreams were often misunderstood, and one of the most unpleasant aspects of death was the frightful dreams which were thought to accompany it. In Hamlet's So-liloquy on Death, when contemplating suicide, the " dread of something after death"—harrowing dreams, prevents him from becoming his own murderer. "To die,—to sleep ; To sleep ! perchance to dream /—ay, there's the rub ; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause." It is the thought of these fearful dreams that makes him decide to bear " Those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of." We owe a debt of gratitude to those promoters of civilization which have unveiled to us those harmless forces which were for centuries enshrouded in an awful mysticism. We recognize that dreams are simply the production of an unbridled fancy, of an imagination uncurbed by will, the "reflections of our waking thoughts." We no longer believe that to dream of gold is good luck, and to dream of silver, bad luck. We reply to such a thought the words of the proverb, " It is as idle as a dream.'' We sometimes gain some inspiration and profit from dreams, but we do not invest them with power to bring us either ill or harm. We see in them a proof of our immortality, and often associate them with our condition after death, but in no terrifying way, and as far as disturbing dreams are concerned, we may meet our death " Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Entered at the Postojice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. Voi,. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1900. No. 1 Editor-in- Chief, . A. VAN ORMER, '01. Assistant Editors, W. H. HETRICK, W. A. KOHLER. Business Manager, H. C. HOFFMAN. Alumni Editor, REV. F. D. GARLAND. Assistant Business Manager, WILLIAM C. NEY. Advisory Board, PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg-) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten Cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address" must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORS DESK. WITH this issue the ninth volume of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY begins. The retiring staff, continuing the work of their predecessors, have delivered into our hands a journal that occupies a high place among college publi-cations of the state. Their encouraging words and helpful sug-gestion, together with the kindly expressions of THE GETTYS-BURGIAN, and. the readiness with which contributors have re-sponded to our call for material, give us encouragement. We now fully realize the burden of work that it is ours to bear; neither are we insensible of the responsibilities that rest upon us; hence we solicit a continuation of the same co-opera-tion thus far extended to us, that we may present to the students, alumni, and friends of the institution a literary journal worthy of Pennsylvania College. i8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The recurrence of the twenty-second of February naturally causes one to look back through the not yet dim vists of Ameri-can history to the days of the Great Commander, whose life is a panorama of noble, self-sacrificing, patriotic deeds. We read with admiration of his boyhood and youth ; we see his growing worth as he delivers Gov. Dinwiddie's message to the French officer ; we gaze upon him with }oy as he tells the British general how to fight the Indians ; we laud his bravery as we see him in the front of many battles, and as he crosses the raging Delaware on that fateful Christmas night; we raise our hats in reverence while he fervently implores the interposition of the God of Bat-tles in behalf of the Continental armies ; but to know his true worth we must follow him further—we must see him cast aside the proffered crown and become a private citizen; we must note his magnanimous spirit at Yorktown, read the record of his suc-cessful administrations, stud}' his farewell to the American people and follow him once more into private life ere we can fully ap-preciate him whom '' Providence left childless that he might be called the Father of his Country." A WORD DESERVED. THE business manager and the assistant business manager of the late MERCURY staff have done so much for the journal that they should receive special mention in its columns. The chief difficulty in the way of the monthly nearly always has been lack of money. Occasionally, but not often, a manager has been found who, at the expiration of his term, could give a respectable report to the literary societies. Two years ago, on account of financial embarrassment, the monthly was changed from a news and literary journal to a journal entirely literary, and its name was changed to "THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY." In the first year, during which at least one issue was not published for want of money, THE MERCURY ran in debt, and serious thought was at times entertained by the staff of giving up the paper altogether. Such was the pecuniary condition of THE MERCURY when it fell into the hands of Mr. Hamacher and Mr. Moore. As regards what was done, it is sufficient to say that at present the paper is THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 19 on the best financial basis she .ever has known, and considering the chaotic state in which the late staff received it, we may say-without exaggeration that Mr. Hamacher has proved himself an exemplary business manager. —H., '00. MEETING OP THE PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE ALUMNI ASSOCIATION OP HARRISBURG. THE annual business meeting and banquet of the Pennsyl-vania College Alumni Association of Harrisburg and vi-cinity was held at the "Harrisburg Club" on the evening of February 27th. At the business meeting the Committee on Or-ganization and By-laws submitted a Constitution which, with several minor alterations, was duly adopted. An election was }hen held for the selection of officers for the current year, the following being elected : President, M. H. Buehler, Harrisburg ; Vice-Presidents, Capt. F. M. Ott, Harrisburg; Rev. D. H. Gilbert, Harrisburg; Rev. F. D. Weigel, Mechanicsburg; Secretary and Treasurer, Chas. Hollinger, Harrisburg. At the termination of the business meeting the members ad-journed to the banquet hall of the Club, the walls of which were gracefully draped with flags and college colors, while numerous palms and other tropical plants were tastily scattered about the hall. In an alcove to one side was seated a full orchestra and mandolin club which rendered classical selections during the pro-gress of the banquet. Covers were laid for forty-two and an ex-tensive menu, served in the highest style of the culinary art, was thoroughly enjoyed. The Association had the honor of entertaining as its guests prominent Alumni of the various educational institutions; Yale being represented by Hon. Lyman Gilbert, Harrisburg; Prince-ton by Charles A. Bergner, Harrisburg; Dickinson by its Pres-ident, Dr. George E. Reed ; Irving by President Campbell; Penn-sylvania College by President H. W. McKnight, Prof. O. F. Klinger and Prof. Chas. Huber ; other guests being Mr. Charles A. Kunkel, Harrisburg, and Dr. Leslie Kauffman, of Kauffman, Pa. The office of Toastmaster was ably filled by Capt. F. M. Ott, '70, and toasts were responded to as follows : "Pennsylvania Col- 20 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. - lege," Prof. 0. F. Klinger; "Yale," Hon. Eyman D. Gilbert; "Colleges for Our Sisters," Dr. E. E- Campbell; "Princeton," Charles H. Bergner, Esq.; "Our Rival," Dr. George E. Reed; "Our Alumni," M. W. Jacobs, Esq. Addresses were also made by President McKnightand Rev. Dr. D. M. Gilbert. This initial banquet of the Association proved to be an unqualified success and was one of the most successful and complete functions of the kind ever held in Harrisburg. The members of the association present were : Rev. T. B. Birch, Prof. C. F. Kloss, Prof J. F. Kempfer, Rev. E. D. Weigel, all of Mechanicsburg; Rev. M. P. Hocker, Steelton ; Rev. Benj. R. Lantz, Millersburg ; Rev. G. M. K. Diffenderfer, Newport; Dr. J. F. Staley, Mr. F. W. Staley, Middletown; J. S. Alleman, Esq., Arthur D. Bacon, M. H. Buehler, Jno. F. Dapp, Meade D. Detweiler, Esq., Rev. Luther DeYoe, Dr. C. B. Fager, Dr. V. H. Fager, Prof. L,. O. Foose, Rev. D. M. Gilbert, Jno. W. Hay, M. D., C. H. Hollinger, John Hoffer, Jr., M. W. Jacobs, Esq., Croll Keller, Dr. Geo. B. Kunkel, Rev. Marion J. Kline, Dr. J. B. Mc- Alister, Capt. F. M. Ott, Dr. C. A. Rahter, Rev. M. H. Stine, Dr. H. B. Walter, E. H. Wert, Esq., H. M. Witman, all of Har-risburg, and Rev. J. Edw. Byers, Penbrook. ^ THE VEIL OE SEPARATION. " Ah sir, there are times in the history of men and nations when they stand so near the veil that separates mortals from im-mortals, time from eternity, and men from their God, that they can almost hear the breathings and feel the pulsations of the heart of the Infinite. Through such a time has this Nation gone, and when two hundred and fifty thousand brave spirits passed from the field of honor through that thin veil to the presence of God, and when at last its parting folds admitted the martyred President to the dead heroes of the Republic, the Nation stood so near the veil that the whispers of God were heard by the children of men." —JAMBS A. GARFIBW. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 21 E THE DEAD ON EXPANSION. XPANSION is in future the policy of our country, and only cowards fear and oppose it."—Buchanan. " It is of very dangerous tendency and doubtful con-sequences to enlarge the boundaries of this country. There must be some limit to the extent of our territory, if we would make our institutions permanent. I have always wished that the country should exhibit to the nations of the earth this example of a great, rich, powerful republic which is not possessed of the spirit of aggrandizement. It is an example, I think, due from us to the world in favor of the character of republican government." —Webster. " We are not seeking annexation of territory, certainly we do not desire it unless it should come by the volition of a people who might ask the priceless boon of a place under the flag of the Union. I feel sure that for a long time to come the people of the United States will be wisely content with our present area, and not launch upon any scheme of annexation."—Blaine. The editor of the School Gazette, after quoting the above, ex-plains that the utterances of Buchanan and Webster were made when the South sought to increase the territory of the Union, and that Blaine's statement is only ten years old. Her Dewey lips Hobsoned his, while like a Shaft'er glance, Schley-ly thrown with a Sampson's strength, pierced through his heart, Weyl'er true love was Miles away, suffering Cervera heart-pangs than this false woman could believe. "O'tis beyond me," said he," why I should Merritt this ?'.'—From the Lesbion Herald. " When you see a stately temple, Fair and beautiful and bright, With its lofty towers and turrets Glistening- in the sun's clear light, Think how soon the noble structure Would to shapeless ruin fall, Were it not for sure foundations Firmly laid beneath it all." —DR. C. H. PAYNB. II 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE OLD CHIEF AND THE BLACKSMITH. THE final day had come and the east was already bright with day. In golden splendor the pure sun mounted the hori-zon of a calm, cloudless sky. Its yellow rays lit up the green patches of corn and pasture in the most delicate colors and tiuted the distant mountains, stretched in majestic line far into the north, in soft purple. All was calm and peaceful. Silence seemed to rule the universe, as if it had hushed it for a great oc-casion. What an occasion it was ! Among those mountains the poor Indian was busy long before sunrise preparing with sorrow-ful mood a journey of the deepest woe and gloom. Yes, this was the day. The red man must change his home. Those hills so rich in fruit and grain were not his. The barren mountains had no place for him. He lived on the white man's ground. He hunted the white man's game. One last, lingering look on a happy home, the abode of his ancestors, his rightful inheritance, where once he enjoyed his wild day unmolested and drove his game over unclaimed land. He must go and the white man gives no farewell, no sign of sorrow, no clasp of the hand, save one, a hard laborer, an honest blacksmith. The early morning found his roughly-made work-shop at the foot of the mountains in full operation. Now the noisy anvil broke the deep silence and now the groaning bellows breathed loud and heavily, sending the black smoke far into the clear sky. Within and without in scattered heaps lay almost everything that a smith could make use of, and much more that he couldn't use at all. The workman stood by the side of the forge, his one hand bounding up and down with the handle of the bellows, the other poking at intervals the roaring flame with an iron rod. He was a large, broad-shouldered man, with slightly bended back, a re-sult of his much stooping. A thick gray beard swept his broad breast, which was partly exposed by an open shirt. His face was large and stout, of hard masculine expression, full of force and intelligence. A well proportioned head, broad, high forehead and prominent chin, showed a man of no low, trivial thought, but one of judgment and decision ; a man, who, if he would have a chance to develope his powers, might have been a genius, but by force of circumstances remained uneducated, possessing, however, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 23 a great amount of good common sense, which he made use of when the occasion demanded it. As he stood by his work his brow was tightly contracted and his eyes firmly fixed on the flame. He was thinking. What were his thoughts ? Let us believe that he was thinking of the Indian. He ofteu thought of him. He pitied him. He believed that the Indian deserved a home and that he could love a home with as much tenderness and fidelity as any one else ; that he had feelings and that he had a soul as immortal as his own. Such were the thoughts of this poor workman as he stood in his shop on the last day for the Indian in his Eastern home. Suddenly a man appeared before the door. The smith, somewhat taken by surprise in the midst of his thought, quickly turned and beheld before him a neighbor; a farmer who was generally known in the community as being of a sour, selfish disposition ; a man with whom the smith could never become wholly reconciled. He was one of those many persons whose only care and thought is to en-large his borders, heap up his wealth, drive his wife and children at the first peep of day from their warm beds into the fields, and at evening reckon a profit of five cents a good day's work. He had no thought for the Indian. He hated him and could scarcely wait until he would leave the country forever. The reason for this was a selfish one. He found out that the Indians had dis-covered a silver mine iu the mountains and were working it with immense success. "They couldn't take this along," he argued, ' 'so the first man to find it would be its owner.'' He knew that the blacksmith was in close friendship with the redskins, and more than likely would know more about its locality and value than any other person in the neighborhood. He therefore came at an early hour to the shop. The smith began the conversation. " Good morning, Henry. A beautiful day?" "Splendid," replied the farmer. "They can't complain of bad weather.'' " No, they can't," answered the smith, " and I don't believe the weather bothers them much. They have other things to com-plain about; a lost home, for instance." "And lost produce and grain," quickly returned Henry. " I'll warrant they will have to raise their own now." " Henry," answered the smith with earnest expression, look-ing his visitor fair in the face, " I don't believe they ever stole a 24 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. cent's worth from you. You have not treated the Indian right and he knows it, and before he would steal your crops in revenge behind your back, he would meet you face to face like a man." " Well, what I see with my own eyes I guess I can believe," replied the farmer in great haste. " But whether they stole it or not, how about the mine? They can't take it along." " No, they surely can't," said the smith, sorrowfully, " but I would to God they could. Some of our greedy neighbors, ex-cuse the word, Henry, you know it's the truth, some of our greedy neighbors can hardly wait until the Indian leaves to lay hold on that mine, the only means the poor creatures have of making a livelihood. They are friendless, homeless, without pity or sympathy, and worse than all, an unknown west before them. It's shameful. But, Henry, one thing I wish with all my heart, and that is that these mountains might bury the treasure deep in their bosoms before the merciless white man pollutes it with his unworthy hand." "Come, come, come," began the other. "You're on your old subject again. That isn't the point. Some one will get it and so why not try for a share ?" No sooner had the last word slipped from the lips of the farmer than both were startled by the clatter of hoofs over the little road-bridge by the side of the shop. Henry walked briskly to the door, saw the Indian, immediately returned, somewhat paler, however, and whispered to the smith, " It's the chief." The Indian entered, dressed in all the gaudy decorations of his rank. His black silk hair fell gracefully about his muscular shoulders. His face was broad and brown, painted in circular stripes of various colors. A pair of black eyes, tightly pinched, glanced sharply over his high, prominent cheek-bones. Although old, as the wrinkles in his forehead would indicate, he seemed as agile and quick of motion as a young warrior on his first hunt. Bending himself slightly forward he made a becoming salute with his right arm, and, with eyes tenderly fixed on the old smith, ad-dressed him. '' What I have to say will not be long. You know all. The red man must leave his native hills for the barren west. The day has come when he must bid adieu to his mountain home. He comes to give good-bye to a friend. The Indian leaves many enemies, but he comes to give the blacksmith a kind farewell. He envies not his little home, his small fields, his blacksmith THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 25 shop. May he live in peace. May prosperity gladden his ad-vancing years. Ah, no more shall he bend his back beneath the horse. No more shall he swing the sledge. The red man's friend shall be rich in fields, proud in wealth, honored among men. The treasures of mines shall make happy his children's homes. His grand-children shall live well, they shall be truly fortunate. The Indian's silver shall be theirs and it shall prosper in their hands." " Come," continued the chief, drawing a silken scarf from his waist, " come, friend, let me bind your eyes and I will lead you to a treasure such as man never beheld before. Come, it is yours." The old smith was astonished at the chief's offer. He stood mute and silent. Recovering himself he approached nearer to the Indian and with broken speech humbly addressed him. "I thank you heartily, chief, for your ofier, but I cannot accept it. I live happy. I work hard all day long and am satis-fied with my little home and family. What do I want with all that wealth ? Why do I deserve it ? I could not rest night or day by living off of the Indian's silver. No, chief, I refuse it. I thank you for the offer, but give or sell the mine to one who could work it with untroubled conscience." The chief was greatly troubled by the smith's refusal and was on the point of pressing his offer further, when Henry broke in, his face beaming from ear to ear as though he was sure it was his already. " I'll let you bind my eyes, venerable chief. I'll take it." The Indian, with angry countenance, drew back in amaze-ment and with scorn answered him. "Youtakeit! Ah, no, no, no, white man ! Rather let it rot with the ages than have it en-rich the hand of an enemy." Approaching the smith again he kindly entreated him to accept. "It's yours, take it. Come, let me Show you your wealth ?" " No, I can't accept it," inter-rupted the smith humbly. " It would bring worriment upon my gray hairs and strife among my children. No, I can't manage so large a treasure." The chief, now aware that it would be useless to urge him further, quickly stepped forward and said : " Then, if you will not take my silver, take my hand. The mine will remain where it is. Man cannot find it. It is the Indian's treasure and ever shall be." Then bowing low before the old man he withdrew to his horse, mounted and departed for the mountains. The farmer, j| 26 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. not feeling very well, quietly walked to the door and was gone without a word. It was some time before the blacksmith returned to his work and resumed his place at the forge. He thought the matter over and over and finally concluded that he had done the right thing. He worked hard that whole day till evening, when he locked the shop, walked silently home and told his wife and children the whole story. They all in the old quaint way agreed that father had done the best and so went to bed and slept. The next morning the smith arose bright and early, as usual, greatly refreshed from the anxiety of the previous day. After breakfast he started for his shop, which was not far distant, thinking not so much of the fortune which he had refused as Of the wandering Indians, who must have been by that time far on their journey. Arriving at the shop he unlocked the shabby door, entered it and taking a small iron shovel from the wall stepped to the forge and began to clear away the ashes to start a fire. After thrusting his shovel several times into the heap, he became greatly astonished at the smallness of the hole. It seemed to have grown much smaller during the night. Bending over the forge he began to scrape away the ashes with his rough hand. To his surprise he found that at the bottom of the open-ing stood a bright, round kettle filled with silver blocks about an inch square. With trembling hands he lifted the treasure from its hiding place and stood it on the anvil, noticing at the same time a small piece of paper sticking out over the rim of the vessel. Drawing this gently from the blocks he unfolded it and saw drawn in rough outline the figure of an Indian, under which was written the words, " To the Indian's friend." —W. H. H., '01. " "When you see a mig-hty forest, With its tall and stately trees, Lifting' up their giant branches; Wrestling with the wintry breeze; Do not fail to learn the lesson Which the moaning winds resound, Every oak was once an acorn, All unnoticed on the ground." —DR. C. H. PAYNE. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 27 WHY WE BROKE CAMP. TEIYL you a story? Well, if you have patience enough I'll tell you of an experience I had last summer vacation, while on a camping trip. You see, every summer vacation when I come home I spring it on the " old gent," that, after having worked so hard for nine months, my poor brain needs rest. Well, he takes it all in, and gives me a vacation of several weeks. Then the old gang gets together, and we go on a few weeks' loaf. Fun ? Well, I should say so. I^ast Summer, following our usual custom, we visited "Straw-berry Island," a beautiful little Island in the middle of the broad Susquehanna. Here there is but one small village of a few hun-dred population. The rest of the square mile of the island is heavily wooded, and affords an excellent place for campers. Usually there are anywhere from three to six parties camping on the island. But at the time we were there none of the others had yet arrived. Soon we were settled down, and were enjoying ourselves very much in hunting and fishing. One evening after we had been there about a week, I went to the village for our mail. When I got back, and distributed the letters to their respective owners, I took my own letters and drew apart a little to read them. The first one I opened was from my father. (You know my father is postmaster in the town in which I live, and, as it is a pretty large town, usually has large quantities of stamps, besides a good deal of money, on hand.) Well, to continue where I left off, the first letter was from my father, and the very first line conveyed to me the startling news that the post-office had been robbed the previous week of a considerable sum of money and about $400 worth of stamps. There was no clue to the robbers, and at present the officers were at a stand-still in their investigations. It is needless to tell you that I was surprised at the news. My first thought was to leave for home next day, but further in the letter father said I needn't let this spoil my fun, and that I should stay as long as I wished. So I decided to stay. The next afternoon I was appointed to run over the island in search of some stray chickens for our evening meal. I started about four o'clock, and leisurely made my way across the island. About a quarter-mile beyond the village I came upon a thick 28 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. clump of trees and undergrowth, situated about three hundred yards from a farmhouse. Thinking this would be a good place for the chickens, I cautiously made my way into the thickest part of the copse. Suddenly I was startled by hearing a gruff voice directly in front of me. I stopped at once, and soon heard another voice, raised in an altercation with the first speaker. He was cursing him roundly for a cheat and a rascal, saying that after having done the dirty work (I couldn't quite catch what), he wasn't going to take a cent less than half of the haul. I be-came interested in what was going on, and crept closer to the speakers, and saw two as villainous and rough looking toughs as ever I beheld. Between them they had a large bag of money, and beside the larger of them lay a peculiar oblong tin box, which somehow or other seemed very familiar to me. All at once it struck me that that was the stamp box which I had seen so often in my father's safe at home. Then it flashed upon me that these were the robbers who had so neatly eluded the officers of the law. My first impulse was to get back to camp at once, tell the other fellows about the robbery and my discovery, and then come and capture these fellows. But, on second thought, I saw it would be wiser to watch them, and find out where they took the booty. Soon the rascals came to an agreement, and decided that they would hide the " swag " until a convenient time should offer for them to dispose of it. They then picked up the bag and stamp box and made their way toward the other side of the island. It was now nearly dark, and I thought I could safely follow them. So I waited till they had gone, and then cautiously picked my way after them. After a half-hour's walk they came to a small tent pitched in a wooded hollow near the shore. They entered here, and I crept up close to catch every word concerning the disposal of the money and stamps. After a good deal of discussion they decided to bury it in the ground under the tent, and in order to do this I knew they would have to move the tent; so I quietly slipped away and hurried off as quickly as possible to our camp, and told the boys about the whole matter. They were eager to go at once, and even more so when I told them that the postoffice authorities had offered a re-ward of $500 for the capture of the robbers. Now, this meant $100 apiece for us, and we could do a good many things on $100. So we decided to go that very night. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 29 We had with us several revolvers and hunting-guns. Each fellow armed himself with one of these, and was soon ready to set out. We started about eleven o'clock, and reached the village a half-hour later. Here I stepped into a store, telephoned to the police at home that I had caught the thieves, and then proceeded. About twelve o'clock we were nearly at the robbers' camp, and I told my chums to take it easy so that we might take the men by surprise. Every fellow cocked his revolver and made ready for business. We crept silently up to the tent, and, peering in, saw two dark forms lying within, sound asleep. Then we entered, and order-ing two of the boys to cover each man, I proceeded to awake the larger and tougher of them. I succeeded pretty quickly, and soon had him securely bound, and then proceeded to do the same for his partner. We found all the booty buried in the earth under the tent, and then loosening our prisoners' legs, ordered them to march on ahead. We soon reached our camp, and binding the men again so that they could not get away, we took turns at guarding them during the night. We held them till the next evening, when my father came with two officers. We all set out for home, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the malefactors in prison. In due time we received the reward. I saved mine, and father added a substan-tial sum to it. That's the reason I am flush this term. Come up town and have some oysters on me, the whole gang. — " APFI,EBEB." '■ Oh, wad some power the g-iftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us ! It wad frae monil a blunder free us And foolish notion, What airs in dress and g'ait wad lea' us And e'en devotion." -BURNS. i\ 30 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE. GRACE had been said. The preacher of the village, whose gray hairs had never been endangered by conjugal wrath, in short, who was a bachelor, had performed that solemn office, as was his wont, at the Lyn boarding-house. Around the table sat six. The preacher, by right of his sober mien and broadcloth, of course, occupied the first place of honor, that is, he sat at the end of the table next the door leading into the pantry, from which issued the appetizing sound of the sizzling, sputtering and splashing of the cooking, or the rattle and clatter of pots and pans, and occasionally, to vary the program, the bang of falling dishes invariably followed by a lecture on culinary economy and general management by the matron of the establish-ment, who at divers times and in divers manners, delivered these emphatic and lengthy dissertations to the cook, a buxom, grin-ning lass of perhaps sixteen summers, who bore several red marks on her face, testifying to the violence of gesture with which the lecturer was accustomed to drive home her rather striking argu-ments. Next to the preacher sat Mr. Eyn, who boasted the empty title of " Eord of the House "—a little, pinched, henpecked piece of crusty mortality, who spoke with a very emphatic "I intend" or " I will," but, as I observed, only when his wife was in the pan-try and the door closed. In her presence, or within range of her eye through the open pantry door, he seemed to sink about six inches in stature, and peep slyly out of the corners of his e3'es, like a cat expecting a sudden and unannounced visitation of boot-jacks and stove-pokers. Beside the hard-fated Mr. Lyn was situated, geographically speaking, a volcano of sentimental effusion, or, perhaps better, sat the village poet. He looked like a poet, at least to a stranger, having all the visible qualifications—long hair, a sentimental air, a canary-like whimper that sometimes sounded like the sigh of a zephyr, and a box of dyspepsia tablets sticking out of his vest pocket, which would most strongly confirm the theory suggested by the unbarbered hair. At the end of the table, opposite the snowy-templed " shep-herd in Israel," sat the school-mistress, another very important functionary in the village, enthroned in dignity and starch. She THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 31 always dressed in a rusty shade of brown satin, evidently to match her complexion, and had it so thoroughly starched that she could sit down only in one way, there being only one hinge in the dress. She was always " precise" and plain, never bedecked herself with flowers, perhaps because she couldn't starch them. Slight in figure, in her rusty armor she looked not altogether unlike a mud-wasp— a dignified mud-wasp. Her features denoted character, but as Pat said, who sat around the corner from her, they looked a little smoke-dried. Pat was a red-nosed Irishman, with a broad, open, jolly Irish face, always lit up with an expression of bantering humor, and partly covered with a thin, scattered crop of stubble. He was the man of all work about the establishment, and bossed about by the lady of the house, curtly snapped at by the next highest power, Mr. Lyn, divinely stared at by the volcano, furiously glared at by the mud-wasp, and reproached every now and then by the preacher for profanity, he bad a very wretched time of it, and often gave that as a reason for the redness of his nose. "Be-jabbers," he would say, " Oi must droon moi troubles;" but how he drowned his troubles by reddening his nose I never could imagine. Grace had been said, as I stated before, and Jane began to serve roast chicken, starting with the preacher. " Thank you, my girl," said his reverence in his blandest tone as she turned from him to the poet, who took a wing with a smile—a very poetic smile—and, holding it up on a fork that all could see it, in his softest canary notes began : " Oh for the wings of an angel, To fly to that heavenly shore, I would leave this land of sorrow, There in joy to dwell evermore." " Oh, how delectable !" exclaimed the ecstatic teacher. "What spontaneity and brilliancy of genius ! Surely, Mr. Bilious, you have been endowed with those peculiar qualities of intellect which combine with a deep and susceptible emotional nature to consti-tute those favored and favorite mortals, whose function in life and society is to add to the general happiness of humanity ; one of those who drink of Olympian fountains and feast on the ambrosial —the ambrosial—feast on the ambrosial—in short, Mr. Bilious, you are a poet." She always rattled out her comments in a man- 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. \ ner something like a hysterical alarm-clock, and stopped for the same reason, too—because she was run down. The flattered rhymer, in his confusion and gratitude, blushed a sort of 3^ellow green, and fumbled about in his inspired cranium for a suitable answer, when Pat relieved him. " Ay, Midam, a pooet's boorn a pooet; ye can't make 'im." Though "Madam" rarely condescended to notice any of Pat's remarks, she replied: "Mr. O'Brien, I fully appreciate the force and significance of that sententious and universal truth to which you have just given utterance. I find it true, in my ramblings through the variegated fields of imaginative literature, that a skill-ful master of the poetic art must—must possess certain natural endowments of mind and feeling. He may avail himselfof the most efficient intellectual discipline in the most advanced institutions of learning, established in either hemisphere, the Eastern or the Western, fortne impartation of knowledge and mental develop-ment, and yet, sir, may never gain admission into the temple of the Muses." " Yis, a pooit's loike an iditor. Ye moight fade a goat tin years on newspaipers, but shtill ye couldn't make an iditor av 'im." Very much to Pat's annoyance—for he felt unusually honored in being patronized by such an able representative of scholarship and high English—the poet, who felt that they were both allud-ing to him, chimed in : " If Nature on you doth bestow it, To reveal her charms, to be a poet, In school or out you're bound to show it, And all the world will some time know it." "Och, bedad," supplemented Pat, with a dubious smile of malicious humor, intending to punish Mr. Bilious for this obtru-sive sally, "Ye remoindmeso much of Samson in the Scriptures." The poet shook out his tresses of black, hanging in Miltonic waves over his shoulder, proud to have them compared to Sam-son's immortal looks of strength, but Pat. continued : " Ye both use th' same wippin, only ye make pooetry with it and he slew the inimies of Israel." Of course, we laughed; the preacher till he was as red as Pat's nose, I till my sides ached, and even the school-mistress smiled as loud as the constitutional gravity of her deportment would permit, the poet, all the while, turning alter- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 33 nately red, white and blue, and looking as though he had swal-lowed a smoothing-iron. Mr. Lyn alone did not smile—the pan-try door was open. The cook was seized with a fit of tittering that went nigh end-ing with her dropping the coffeepot, with which she had now reached the school-mistress, filling the cups as she went round the table. " O Miss Jane, do exercise more vigilant care lest you occa-sion some disastrous calamity. Just cogitate how seriously I might have been scalded by that liquid, in that state of violent ebullition, as you undoubtedly apprehend. Such inexcusable carelessness cannot, must not be tolerated, young lady." Jane, somewhat abashed, colored and would have attempted an apology, but the preacher, ever ready to rescue one in embar-rassment, interposed : " Nothing hurt, Jane; accidents will hap-pen everybody. I don't wish them to you," he added, with an air of cheerful gallantry, " but I like to see you blush up ; your cheeks look like peaches." " Yis, yer Riverence," added Pat, "and Oi am so fand of paiches," looking at the preacher and then at the cook. The teacher had, by far, too positive notions of propriety not to rebuke the facetious Patrick. " Undoubtedly, Mr. O'Brien, you have not had the advantages which the cultured usually de-nominate the ' privileges of high society,' those elements of good-breeding enjoyed in homes of education and refinement, or un-doubtedly you would not be guilty of the audacity, so boldly and improperly to allude to the female employee of the establishment in which you occupy the humble position of a menial. Mr. O'Brien, I certainly am surprised." Pat looked at me and winked, evidently not much discon-certed by the bombardment. •'You exhibit," she continued, angry because Pat did not wilt, " directly under and within the range of my ocular vision, such indecency towards me, one so manifestly your superior"— another wink. "Well, did I ever!" she ejaculated, closing her mouth with a snap like a pocketbook, looking daggers all the while at the unabashed Mr. O'Brien. "Did ye iver," rejoined the impregnable Patrick. "It's moire than Oi can till ye what ye iver did; yer auld enough to 34 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. have done imiything, judgin', as the poet says, 'by the silver min-gled mang th' gauld.' " '' Sir,'' sharply retorted the now thoroughly enraged pre-ceptress, "I do not propose—" " Nay, Midim," interrupted Pat., " Oi didn't ask ye to pro-pose, and there's no danger of innybody havin' ye innyhow, un-less p'rhaps yed propose in the dairk av th' moon." During this passage between the scholarly tongue of the out-raged pedagogue and the native wit of the mischievous Irishman none of us dared to laugh out, though we suffered severely with suppressed mirth, which, in my case, played a little game of earth-quake in my abdominal regions, made me drink two glasses of water in quick succession and spill half a cup of coffee over the table. Determined to beat a retreat with at least the honors of war, she turned from the Irishman, as if perfectly disgusted with his conduct, and addressed Jane, who was about to give her a^second cup of coffee. " No, thank you. If I should indulge in the sec-ond cup of this beverage, although I consider it exquisitely pal-atable and invigorating, when administered, or rather taken, in moderate quantities, my digestive organ would be greatly exag-gerated— I mean aggravated, and probably develop in the course of time sub-acute gastritis or some other modification of irritant poisoning. Indeed, I have entertained the greatest apprehension of"—just then the door bell rang, and I was called out. —A. N. ONYMOUS. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C. H. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming Fall and Winter season cannot be surpassed for variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering, repairing, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing' Goods, go to. I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flammelstomn Broom Stone Gompany Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Cut Stone Work. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P Telegraph and Express Address. BROWNSTONE, PA. : R. R. R. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century ^^.0 Double-Feed Fountain Pen. ^^Poiated- GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. .$2 SO . 2 50 No. 3. Chased 3 00 Hexag-on, Black or Mottled No. 3. Gold Mounted 4 00 Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted . 2 50 . S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to shozv them toyou WHITEWATER, WIS A good local agent-wanted in every school. ^mmwmmrmwmmwmwmwm^ Printing and Binding "We Print This Book THE MT. HOLLY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing' and Binding, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing- to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. K SPRINGS, PA. VL H. S. BENNER, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc., Tobacco and Cigars. Yl CHAMBERSBURG ST. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest,including the th ree days" fiffht, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. MUMPER & BENDER Furniture Cabinet Making, Picture Frames Beds, Springs, Mattresses, Etc. Baltimore St., GETTYSBURG, PA. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta- People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. .GO TO. fjotel (Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON J. A. TAWNEY o. Is ready to furnish Clubs and Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. Washington & Midde Sts., Gettysburg. XWTT. TrJ. //dfe//>/l/d. C/)/Cd50. Sd/iftvnasco. London. PdnsJerf//?. Co/03ne. CALL ON F. Mark Bream, The Carlisle Street Grocer Who always has on hand a full line of Fine Groceries. .Photographer. No. 3 Main St., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. Our new effects in Portraiture are equal to photos made anywhere, and at any price PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. ^entpol Jfotel, ELIAS FISSEL, Prop. (Formerly of Globe Hotel) Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Steam Heat, Electric Light and Call Bells all through the House. Closets and Bath Rooms on Every Floor. Sefton & Flem-ming's Livery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges Moderate, Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rales $1.50 Per Day. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. L Try My Choice Line of .' £ High-Grade Chocolates 3 L, at 40c per lb. Always fresh at ,\ C CHAS. H. McCLEARY "j C Carlisle St., Opposite W. M. R. R. ^ Also Foreign and Domestic Fruits '(' Always on Hand. JOHN M. MINNIQH, Confectionery, lee, -andIee Creams. Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. BARBER SHOP®® CHARLES C. SEFTON, Proprietor. .Baltimore Street. The place for Students to go. Only First-class Tonsorial Work. LIVERY ATTACHED. ESTABLISHED 1876 PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, Col-lege Souvenir Spoons. NO. 10 BALTIMOE ST., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. HARRY B.AR010R, Chambersburg: Street, Gettysburg:, Pa. Electrical .and Bicycle Supplies Repair Work of Every Description.
HAY, 1906 1T0L. XIT. HO. 3 GETTYSBURG COLLEGE GETTYSBURG, PA. i »»^wiiw»ir^Ww>BffwwuWiii>ii come; and there too we become subject to the great discipline of suffering from which we learn how to meet the real prob-lems of life. Some time ago a contractor of New York City, advertised for twenty five laborers at two dollars a day. Within a (ew hours scores of applicancs thronged his office, until it became almost an angry mob. Each one attempted to make applica-tion before his competitors, and in that way increase his chances lor appointment. This contractor at the same time advertised for a high class specialist to manage a branch of the work, wages twenty-five dollars a day. Days passed and not one man made application. The difference between the re-quirements of the two positions was largely a difference of ex-perience. What the polishing is to the beauty of a diamond discipline and experience are to the usefulness of a life. The experience of nations again and again have shown that an army is of value in active service only to the extent that it is well equipped and trained So the life of an individual is of true value to the world in so far as the powers of that life are cultivated to perform such service as will contribute to the bet-terment of mankind. The man made wise by experience endeavors to judge cor-rectly of the things which come under his observation, and form the thoughts of his daily life. " What we call common sense is for the most part, but the result of common experience wisely improved." The whole of life may be regarded as a great school of experience in which men and women are the pupils. The world today sends forth the cry for men and women of experience, men who are trained and equipped for action. The apprenticeship of difficulty is one which the greatest of men have to serve. It is a good stimulus and discipline of THE MERCURV. 73 character. It often brings forth powers that without it would have remained dormant. Just as an electric current passing through a wire requires resistance in order to produce light and heat, so men are often caused to shine brightly in some chosen profession or work because of the resistance they en-counter. It seems as if in the lives of some, the sharp and sudden blow of adversity is required to bring out the divine spark. There are natures that blossom and ripen amidst trial that would only wither and decay in an atmosphere of ease, and comfort Some men only require a great difficulty set in theif way to exhibit the force of their character and genius ; and that diffi-culty once conquered becomes the greatest incentive to their future progress. When a boy fourteen years of age Joseph Lancaster after reading " Clarkson on the Slave Trade " formed the resolution of leaving his home and going to the West In-dies to teach the poor Blacks to read the Bible. He set out with a Bible and " Pilgrims Progress " in his valise, and a few shillings in his purse. The difficulties he encountered were al-most beyond conception, yet they were only a means of strengthening his courage. Soon one thousand pupils were under his instructions. Above the door of his school room were written the words—" If people will not send their chil-dren to school here and have them educated free they may pay for it." Thus Joseph Lancaster was one of the precursors of our present system of National Education. Men do not always succeed through success; they much oftener succeed through failure. Many have to make up their minds to encounter failure again and again before they succeed. Talma the great actor was hissed off the stage when he first appeared. Montalembert said of his first public appearance in the church of St. Roch, " I failed completely," and coming out every one said, " Though he be a man of talent he will never be a preacher." He made one attempt after another until he succeeded; and two years after was preaching to large audiences. Each mind makes its own little world. The cheerful mind makes it pleasant, the discontented mind makes it miserable. n JLiiiiiiiMiL i Z 1 74 THE MERCURY. " My mind to me a kingdom is " applies the same to the peas-ant as to the monarch. Life is for the most part but the mirror of our own individual selves; and he who regards it as a sphere of useful efforts of working for others good as well as his own will find this earthly existence joyful, hopeful, and blessed. AN HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED SCENE FROM ROMEO AND JULIET. S. E. SMITH, '07. SCENE—A Street in Venice. Enter Benvolio and Mercutio. Ben. The sun now sinks and ends the rule of day, And night her sable mantle spreads abroad, Save where the moon doth rend her dark'ning folds, And stars like moths do pierce her sombre woof. Mer. .Through my blue veins a sultry flood doth pour Encouraged by the blazing orb of day And should old Capulet and his fell fiends Approach, my swora should feed his hungry point. Marry ! I would give them what ardent Sol Doth thrust into my blood, a poison rank. Ben. Kind sir, forget our deadly strife this eve When springs a breeze from out the deep blue sea, That has the kiss of Venus for its mesh And tangles hearts of men in stouter folds Than ever fisher wove to snare the fish Which sport in wanton glee in cool sea caves. Mer. Then come, let's hasten from the street to where The moonbeams chase each other through the leaves And while the calm and sleepless night is young By music's charms invite old Morpheus To come to nurse our minds till dawn returns. But look ! young Romeo, with head adroop Comes slowly down the street like one whose friends Have faithless proved. Dost thou surmise the cause THE MERCURY. 75 Which drives the heir of Montague To sulk ? Enter Romeo. Ben. To what fair maiden's bower now My Romeo do you your mind address ? Rom. Zounds ! Thy thoughts are ever far from truth, Ben. Now hear ! Mer. Behold the youthful champion of truth ! This night, my honor e'en will vouch for it, I saw him stand beneath a linden tree And rail against the fate that prompted him To look at Luna's silver bow across That shoulder which foretells ill luck 'tis said ; His calf like love was shocked at thought of this And now he pines lest Rosaline should spurn His ardent love. Rom. False babbler hold thy tongue Your wisdom keep for dumber men than I. Exeunt Benvolia and Mercutio Romeo 'goes toward villa of Rosaline. Rom. It is beyond my comprehension quite Why Rosaline doth so indif'rent prove, In spite of all my growing burning love She seems as cold as snow on mountain tops, Or can it be my heart has hid its fire And kept from her its fierce enkindling flame. Well should that be ; tonight I'll leave no spot In her fair heart unscorched by foul desire. Come Orpheus and lend thy mellow art That I may touch and melt her hardened heart. He sings under her window. Sea waves gleam with a tint of blue, The heavens vault is azure too, Yet their hues so rich and rare With thy soft eyes cannot compare, Cho. Come love come and hear my pleading Come and kiss me and caress me Or my heart will pine away. . J 76 THE MERCURY. The lily blooms so sweet and fair The violet gently drugs the air Yet all their beauty and perfume If thou art nigh, are forgotten soon, Cho. Come love, etc., etc. Rosaline appears at the window aboi'e. Ros. Who comes at this quiet hour of night And rends the air with woeful songs of love; It is not love but passion's fiery breath That desecrates the holy calm of eve; This passion is a treach'rOus, murd'rous fiend Who steals abroad beneath the name of love And poisons minds of maids with that unrest Which blights the budding flowers of virgin minds. Rom. Oh Rosaline be not unkind I pray But come and sit with me beneath the moon ; Enjoy the evening cool mid sighing trees While I declare to thee my heartfelt love Which bounds and struggles till it tears my breast. Ros. Oh youth entrapped by Venus give good heed To what I say, and do not come again To haunt the garden of my father's house, Thy passion fierce does not arouse my heart To join with thee in amorous delights, Minerva, chaste my patron goddess is And follow her I will through all my years, For she preserves the happiness of life While Venus blights the ones who trust in her. Romeo goes away. Rom. What pity that such wondrous charms should be Untouched by love's divine consuming fire For from such burning would arise anew Fair forms of beauty which would bless the world. Now sadly to my couch I take my way With unrequited love to pine away; m THE MERCURY. 77 WHAT IS THE RIGHT USE OF BOOKS? E. G. HESS '06. TO those who are students and scholars books are of in-calculable value. By properly using them their minds become vastly enriched, filled with noble and graceful images and guided to profound truths. They are their masters in-structing them in history, philosophy, literature and art. By them the entire line of one's mental horizon is sometimes changed. In the lonely hours of solitude books are one's cheer-ful companions. In deep heart-rending sorrow they have the power to console effectually. When one is confronted by trials and temptations, they beeome a firm and unbending shield. Deep inspiration and renewed life may be found directly back of the print. A library of choice books, therefore, is more precious than great wealth without them. When the imagi-nation constructs its gorgeous and fantastic forms or builds its magnificent air castles, the library is a veritable fairyland. Your handsomely illustrated geographies and well worded geologies speak of the earth with its beautiful mountains, whose gentle slopes with red roofed huts scattered among green groves of pine and hemlock, with here and there an open heath, arch gracefully upward until their majestic snow-capped summits pierce the very vault of heaven, or of clear swiftly flowing streams, rushing over beds of solid rock, suddenly breaking over a perpendicular ledge, then falling, mantled with fleecy clouds of spray, over which hover the brilliant colors of the rainbow, and dashing its hissing torrents into the raging foam-ing gulf below while the eternal roar of the water echoes along the stupendous gorge. Others give knowledge of plant life, from the tender mosses and the tiny delicate flowers to the gigantic trees of the forest. And, yet, has anyone ever obtained the pleasing, refreshing odors of the most fragrant blossoms from reading books, or have the leafy boughs shaded and protected him from the scorching rays of the noon day sun? Can one, while read-ing, hear the ceaseless roaring waters or see the grandeur of the fall ? Hume says : " The poet using the most glowing colors I .:*)*. .11 _ » i',> I 1 Hi f 78 THE MERCURY. of his art cannot depict a scene in such a way that his de-scription might be mistaken for the real landscope." Our histories speak concerning the great men of the past and their remarkable achievements. They tell us of Napoleon, Caesar, Alexander and hosts of others. These interesting his-toric recitals thrill and inspire us, yet we who know only American life frequently fail to think ourselves into those far away lands, and that distant past, into the very conditions un-der which these people lived, thought and fought. They and their deeds belong to the dark dominion of the past, and no book,however well written, can perfectly reflect the past. They, thus, generally appear to us as mere names upon the printed page rather than actual living historic characters who had bodies of flesh and blood very similar to our own. What then do we have in books more than signs for thoughts ? Can real knowledge and actual thoughts be found in books? Can knowledge be found elsewhere than in some one's consciousness ? Truth may exist independent of our minds. But the alphabet, Latin, Greek or Hebrew, the Cunei-form system of the ancient Persians and Assyrians, the Egypt-ian Hieroglyphics are only symbols for ideas and thoughts. The benefit derived from the printed page is wholly a matter of interpretation. Let one hold in his hand a Chinese book, there is a world of truth printed upon its pages, but, unless he understands the language he is unable to interpret it, thus the book conveys no thought. Let him stand before Cleopatra's Needle in New York and unless he be versed in Egyptology, the golden key of interpre-tation is wanting and those curious hieroglyphics are meaning-less. Let two men read a page of English, there is a differ-ence in interpretation proportionate to the difference in capa-city and development. There is also a vast difference in the mental experiences of the same person when he gets his con-ception of an object, or event from the pages ot a printed book or has it indelibly stamped upon his memory by actual personal experience. In the former case, because of the asso-ciation of ideas the words have for him a certain coloring which they had not for the author, and his imagnation working THE MERCURY. 79 over the ideas produces a picture unlike that which was in the author's mind. We hear much about impure drugs and adulterated food. We want our Rio coffee of the same quality and value as when it departed from the port of Brazil. But in our acquisition of knowledge we do not apply these same strict business princi-ples but permit ourselves to be satisfied with second-hand experiences. Some have read books on travel, perhaps the very guide books which are indespensible to a man treading his way amid the cloud-hidden heights or appalling depths of an Alpine glazier. A fatal step may be saved by the book. But no one would read these books and say he has had actual experiences of travel. Thus, when one is struggling with the grave prob-lems of life earnestly striving toward the highest development, a good book may save him much effort, perhaps a disas-trous mistake. But we would not conclude that we gain ex-periences of actual life by reading these (so-called) life books. Only in our imagination can we follow the experiences of great men, leaving an infinite gulf between the experiences gained by reading and those gained from actual life. Let books, therefore, serve us as a pair of eye glasses, as a microscope or telescope. Let them help us to see through the eyes of the authors what otherwise we should not see. Dur-ing leisure hours, let them inspire us, but whenever we can see directly, let us waste neither time nor effort in studying other men's records of what they saw. Emerson says: " Meek young men grow up in libraries, believing it their duty to accept the views which Cicero, which Locke, which Bacon, have given; forgetful that Cicero, Locke and Bacon were only young men in libraries when they wrote these books." Thus as scholars we look toward the future and see unwritten books waiting to chronicle our own original investigations. 8o THE MERCURY. SHOULD THE VOTING MACHINE BE INTRO-DUCED INTO PENNSYLVANIA? FRANK W. MOSER, '07. THERE is an old saying that the Yankee will do nothing by hand that he can invent a machine to do for him. He maintains the astonishing record of patenting twenty-three thousand new mechanisms every year and a study of all the complications almost overwhelms one. Outside of the realm of electricity no invention has met the need of the hour so thoroughly and efficiently as the voting machine. This state-ment can be proved by the citing of several facts and its special application to Pennsylvania can then be inferred from general conditions. In the first place voting machines have worked well wher-ever they have been tried. This fact alone is exceedingly sig-nificant when we consider the conditions of turmoil in politics and labor that have marked the last few years. A trial under such circumstances is a trial indeed and the fact that it has proved thoroughly satisfactory is splendid evidence of its value to any state. Considering the rapidity with which the Aus-tralian ballot came into use, we can almost predict that, after the complications in the larger cities, especially in Philadelphia, voting by machine would spring into the front all over the land. Buffalo has voted by machine for several years and seems more than satisfied with the result. This satisfaction is splendid evidence of its worth among the recent inventions tending toward the bettering of conditions in the state. Secondly, when voting is carried on by machines, none of the troubles of a recount can arise. The machine is run some-what on the principle of the cash register and records unerr-ingly and promptly. In tabulating the results, the viewers make numerous errors both by accident and even sometimes it may be with intention and in the press of a hard fight the er-rors are unnoticed and the result, if close, may not embody the will of the people. The automatic action of the machine makes such mistakes an impossibility. The importance of this point can hardly be overestimated since the charges of fraud THE MERCURY. 8l In voting and criminality in the recounts have been spread so broadcast in the daily papers. There is only one immediate and final remedy for this; only one thing that will make such action impossible ; only one thing that can prevent libelous in-dictments from flying on every daily sheet; and that one thing is the voting machine. Thirdly, the result is ready as soon as the voting ceases- There are no long hours of waiting for the results to be an-nounced nor of wearisome labor by the officers. Immediately upon the closing of the polls the machine is ready to hand out its tabulated account arranged in neat and systematic order. Like many other.things in the world the voting machine is shunned because the people are not used to it. There has hardly been an invention in the history of the world's progress, but the people were wary of it, called it a hoax and its inventor a lunatic, and applied a multitude of like foolish accusations, and it is often only after long and severe test that they can be urged to take up with it. The voting machine is simple, very simple, when once it is understood. There is no red tape about the machine nor any patent levers nor anything else of the kind to confuse or annoy the voter. It is as simple as the cash register, a touch and your vote is cast. That these facts are especially applicable to Pennsylvania cannot be doubted by any sound-minded person. Whenever in state or city the power falls into the hands of corrupt and reckless men, pessimism cries out that popular government is a failure. The crisis through which Pennsylvania has just passed, the smoke of the conflict still lingering over the battle-field, ought to be an object lesson at once forceful and abiding. Were the power of corruption in machine and gang entirely dead, then we might settle down to our newspapers and maga-zines with some degree of security, but the lightening that ever and anon illuminates the edge of the cloud shows that there is still dormant energy behind the apparent calm, which may break into a storm at any minute. Superficial remedies, advocated by would-be reform societies, are worse than useless. The reform must come from within and be deep and perma-nent to achieve the best results, and the introduction of the 82 THE MERCURY. voting machine would be a big step toward preventing any such conditions from becoming prevalent in the future. Penn-sylvania needs the voting machine because, having just passed through a stormy period, she is still hanging in suspense to-await future events ; she needs the machine because the ma-chine would give a reasonable guarantee of fairness at the polls; she needs the machine because she is the keystone of the union and should be solidly for the right, a position it would assist her to maintain ; she ought to have the machine because her citizens are ever broad-minded enough to put away prejudice against the new and fall into line on any improvement in state government. To repeat, the machine ought to be introduced into Pennsyl-vania because it has met with decided success wherever it has been tried; because none of the troubles of a recount can arise; because the result is ready as soon as the voting ceases ; because Pennsylvania is now in such condition as to render the introduction of the voting machine not only advantageous but imperative. It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year To fall a log at last, dry, bald and sear : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be. —Ben Jonson. mmwwm**— • THE MERCURY. 83 IN THE SHELTER OF A ROCK. E. A. CHAMBERLIN, '08. WILLIAM BLODGETT always was an enthusiastic pho-tographer. Although only an amateur, yet some of his battlefield views rivaled even those of the professionals, Mumper and Tipton. His mountain views, water scenes, and views of historic spots, had won a name for him among his numerous college friends and outside admirers. Scarcely did a publication of the " Amateur Photographer," appear without the use of one of Blodgctt's reproductions as an illustration. One afternoon, after he had puzzled his brain over Prof. Nixon's cycloids and hypocycloids, he strapped his camera over his shoulder, placed his tripod beneath his arm, and strolled forth in the direction of Culp's Hill in quest of speci-mens for his botanical collection, and for further purpose of adding to his already numerous supply of battlefield views. After walking about a mile, finding only a few flowers, he came upon a scene which made the heart of the young photographer leap for joy. He had often seen it before but it was never so inviting as now. The avenue had been built in the side of the hill, and, as he halted upon its white surface to feast his eyes upon this garden spot of nature, he beheld stretched below him in a small valley, masses of rock, one upon the other, between which flowed Rock Creek now flooded to its banks by early spring rains. One mass of rock in particular showed the results of the hor-rible struggle which had taken place at this point nearly forty years before. Even now upon the rock could be seen the marks of many bullets, and streaks of white lead oxidized by the rains of many years. The trees here thick and tall were beginning to bud, while in the background loomed up a wooded hill, the only sentinel which had withstood the victorious charge of O'Neal's men. An excursion from Baltimore was upon the field but, as luck would have it, all seemed to be elsewhere sightseeing. So with no one to disturb him he planted his tripod and arranged his camera for a view which in his opinion would far surpass a similar scene, taken by a Princeton student, which had been 84 THE MERCURY. published a few weeks before. Not a breeze disturbed the leaves in the tree-tops—not a creature could be seen, with the exception of a distant buzzard sailing over the ground once made fruitful, in his aviarian mind, by the inhuman struggles of two contending armies. With a last look upon the scene he turned, removed the cover from the plateholder and gently pressed the bulb. That night after he had worked for two hours upon his Latin, he went to his dark room and proceeded to develop his treasure. How carefully he measured the powders and liquids, how gently he removed the plate from its holder and placed it in the tray. The image arose upon the plate resplendent in the ruby light. Yet Blodgett's heart sank within him as he looked upon it, for, in the very centre of the picture, just above the rock, appeared a small black spot which would render the negative practically' worthless. Tired, disgusted and discouraged, he finished the process and went to bed. As the first rays of the morning sun shone in his window he jumped out of bed to take a better look in the daylight at the defective spot. Imagine his surprise when upon holding it to the window he discovered that the black spot was caused by no other object than the head of a beautiful girl, made even more beautiful by its surroundings. She had undoubtedly been concealed and, at the very moment in which he had pressed the bulb had looked over the moss covered edge of the rock. The face was one of exceptional beauty. During the day, and those which followed, Blodgett often looked at the small features, the dark waving hair and the eyes which he knew, from their expression, must be of the deepest blue. He had never seen the young lady in question, and, make inquiry as he would, no information upon the subject could he gain. He searched the spot sheltered by the rock for some clew; this was also in vain. He found nothing save a few dainty foot prints upon the mossy bank. The months and years flew past. Blodgett graduated from college and entered a school in Baltimore, where it was his pur-pose to make a special study of photography, his great hobby ; yet he never forgot the face which had appeared from behind ,.-. --- r—i THE MERCUKY. 85 the sheltering rock, and never failed to look for it even in the busy city in which he now lived. One day while passing through Druid Hill Park he was struck by an automobile and lay seemingly lifeless upon the speedway. A burly policeman lifted him tenderly, placed him gently upon a grassy bank and after noting the number of the machine sent in a hurry call for an ambulance. Blodgett thought himself in a deep pit while ever and anon there would appear above him in bold outline against the outer light, a face the same which had in his college days appeared in like manner from behind the rock. At last the pit vanished and there bending over him was the face with a small nurse's cap surmounting it. The face although now slightly older was nevertheless the same. His air castles had materalized. He had been injured internally, and it was several months before he was able to leave his cot. In the meantime he had told the owner of the face, a certain Miss Hartman, about the photograph of the rock and had received her side of the story. At the end of a week they were fast friends, and, as the weeks lengthened into months their friendship changed to something even deeper. He is now one of the leading photographers in Baltimore while she although her name is changed yet her face is the same as on that day when it so suddenly appeared and then as quickly vanished behind the shelter of the rock. THE ]\|ERCURY Entered at the Postoffi.ee at Gettysburg as second-class Matter VOL. XIV GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1906 No. 3 Editor-in-chief WARD B. S. RICE, '07 Exchange Editor . THOS. E. SHEARER, '07 Business Manager THOMAS A. FAUST, '07 Ass'l Bus. Managers. HENRY M. BOWER, '08 H. WATSON DAVISON, '08 Associate Editors GEO. W. KESSLER, '08 J. K. ROBB, '08 EDMUND L. MANGES, '08 . Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, LITT.TX PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Busi-ness Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. Every young GOLDEN MOMENTS. man ^Q ;«. about to enter an institution of learning has to a certain extent made plans which when he makes them does it in all sin-cerity and fully intends to carry them through. The majority realize that they are entering into a course of training which when completed will have changed them and made them entirely new persons. There is such a Pt».H»^f| THE MERCURY. 87 diversity in men's lives that no two men will receive the same amount of benefits. Some who have laid extensive plans and are ambitious may not accomplish as much as a man whose intentions are not so extensive but has the natural faculty of making use of his time. Spare moments have well been called the gold dust of time. At this time of the year when nature has taken on her •summer clothing it is especially easy to waste our precious moments in which we should be carrying out our plans. We are now nearing the close of another school year and for this very reason we should not even let nature or any other factor •waylay us or take advantage of us, but we should do as the runner who on the home stretch puts forth his best efforts and finishes his race in an admirable manner. It is a hard thing to go to one's room and work when one could enjoy the beauti-ful evenings on the campus. But when time has been idled away there is always a feeling of discontent while on the other hand when time is well spent there comes a feeling of content. There is a question now being agitated A PERSONAL QUESTION. wh, i•ch, i• s ofc vi.tal, i.mportance to every Gettysburg student, those who may oppose it as well as those who may favor it. It is that of a compulsory athletic fee, pro-viding that each student shall be required to pay a yearly athletic fee, and that there shall be free admission to all games, also carrying with it the provision that the student will not be required to assist financially except as above stated. Every-one acquainted with the present system of meeting the athletic debts must confess that it is faulty and is largely chance, and that the only results of its workings have been debt and dissatisfaction. Of course this reform, like all others, has ob-jections raised against it, but we believe that the merits of the system proposed will high override all objections. But before we come to a conclusion, let us look at some of the benefits to be derived as set over against the objections. In the first place the present system is working to the de-triment of the college. It does not provide the funds neces-sary for the best results. This is a serious drawback because 88 THE MERCURY. the the athletic success of a college plays an important part in influencing prospective students. Especially students of means-will consider this point, and they are generally most influential for the college. It may be well to state that we are not depre-ciating our success along atheletic lines, but believe that with a good coach for each branch of our athletics, which we would have under the system proposed, we would surprise some of our old rivals. Take for example the last football season. Again since there would be free admission to all games, the student body would make a better showing, and the teams would re-ceive better support. In the next place, the burden would not fall so heavily upon those who are willing to contribute, but the responsibility would fall equally upon all, and each could claim an equal share in the success. In connection with the forego-ing reason, an objection arises, and we may say the only one which can be brought up. That is, that it would not be fair to-those of limited means. We have all respect for students of that kind, but we are of the opinion that a reasonable fee would not inconvenience them any more than some necessity which may present itself. There may be a few-exceptions, but they would-be provided for with ease in comparison with what would have to be overcome if the present system continues. If the college is to be conducted for those of very limited means, then abolish athletics and show true colors. On the other hand if we are go-ing to support this branch, let up us adopt a system, such as-the one proposed, that will be beneficial to the student body and the college, instead of pursuing one which is unsatisfactory and unbusinesslike for the sake of a difficulty which can be easily provided for. With regard to next month's issue we would urge the hearty cooperation of all. Although, this is the busiest season of the school year, the Seniors have ing their class exercises, the Juniors having the oratorical con-test, and the Sophomores orations to deliver, let us have this-issue measure up to the standard, if not surpass it. At this-time we are apt to say that we are too busy, but we hope that LEST WE FORGET. THE MERCURY. 89 you will consider it well before you declare yourself in such a strait. Let everybody get to work, we must have a good selec-tion. Begin to write immediately and hand it in on time as the number will have to be published before commencement. EXCHANGES. As the Commencement season draws near, the attention of the college world is directed toward oratory, commencement speeches and class oratorical contests. This is plainly shown in the exchanges of the past month. The March number of the Maniton Messenger is an Oratori-cal Number, containing the orations of St. Olaf's representa-tives in an Inter-collegiate Contest. The orations are good of their kind, but as a comment upon them we, will quote from an editorial in the April number of the same journal which has just come to hand. The editor says : " The tendency of current college oratory seems to be in favor of character sketches- Instead of whetting his intellect on intricate present day prob-lems, our college orator turns to the musty records of past ages, and from the mouldering bones of ancient heroes draws a pencil sketch of the man who was. The warrior, the states-man, the orator, and the reformer each has his turn. We are told of the life they lived, the work they did, and the death they died. That is all. The grand passions that filled their hearts and swayed their minds we never feel because the prob-lems that shook the foundations of society in their time no longer exist. * * * * Our sympathies are in the present. The great orators of the past became great because the subjects of their orations were the problems of the time in which they lived. They were themselves fired with the theme and could therefore kindle the fire in others." "The Mob Mind in Social Life," in the Augustana Observer, is, without doubt, the best article of a serious nature that we have seen in that paper in many issues. The writer defines a mob as " a number of individuals under the absolute influence of a common idea or sentiment, temporarily void of individuals, personality, and ruled by unconscious or sub-conscious forces!' Under this definition he works out the psychology of the 9o THE MERCURY. mob mind to the conclusion that direct legislation providing for the punishment of individuals of the mob must be useless in controlling, or guiding its forces, but that ' thetonly ulti-mate ' solution of the mob problem is to fill the ' sub-con-sciousness of mankind with noble ideas.' " And this," he says, " is the task of unnumbered centuries." Some of the other articles that we would like to commend are : " An Idyll of the Grove," a story, in The Haverfordian ; " Ruskin on War," in The Albright Bulletin; " Insurance or No Insurance," a parody on Hamlet's soliloquy, in The Moun-taineer; "Child Labor Problem " in Dickinsonian ; " The Man Who Spent His Father's Money," a story in The Red and Blue ; " The Flower Maiden," a poem, in The Philomathean Monthly; and " Undine," as a product of the German Romantic School," in The Forum. In searching the month's exchanges we were surprised at the scarcity of good editorials. Only one or two contained any of any length and merit. This is something unusual. Heretofore they have proved to be good reading, but this month they are weak. Are the editors so busy reading copy that they have no time to* write, or are they out among the students hunting up copy ? It is very likely perhaps that the new staffs are not yet in good working order and that this de-fect will be remedied in the next issue. There seems to be an inclination in some of the college papers to place in their " Locals " so very many nonsensical items. Although we realize that an exchange editor is hardly in a position to make mention of local items, yet we cannot refrain from doing so when this practice mentioned above is carried to such an extent that it lowers our opinion of the paper and incidentally of the school. For example, we have in mind the " Class Items " in The College Folio ; " Locals " in The Midland; " Local Items " in The Grove City Collegian ; and " Things Said and Done " in The Drury Mirror. These papers usually contain but two contributed articles—some-times three, if short—which is a small number for a monthly publication. Now we do not mean that any news item should be suppressed, but if a page or so of these personal jokes and foolish puns were replaced by a good essay or story, we feel sure that the general tone of the papers would be heightened. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISER'S I FURNITURE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames. Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. * Telephone No. 97. H. B. ^erLcLer 37 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. The Windsor Hotel 1217=2 Filbert St., Philadelphia. Headquarters for Students. Thoroughly Renovated, Refurnished and Remodeled FRANK M. SCHEIBLEY, Manager. Graduate of Lafayette College 1898. A. G. Spalding & Bros. Largest Manufacturers in the World of Official Athletic Supplies Base Ball Lawn Ten is Foot Ball Archery Roque Quoits Cricket Lacrosse Golf Implements for al Sports Spalding's Official Base Ba.ll Guide for 1906. Edited by Henry Chadwick. The most complete and up-to-date book ever published on the subject. Fully illustrated. Price 10 Cents. For over a quarter of a century Spalding's Trade-Mark on Base Ball implements has marked the advancement in this particular sport. Spalding's O&cial League Ball is the adopted ball ol the National League, and must he used in all match games. Every requisite for Lawn ten-nis and Golf. Spalding's Trade Mark. on our Athletic Implement gives you an advantage over the other player as you have a better article, lasts longer, gives more satisfaction. Every Base Ball Manager should send at once/or a copy of Spalding's Spring and Sum-mer Catalogue—FREE. A. G. SPALDING
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Daniel Levine on Hidden Hands, Vocation and Sustainable Critique in International Relations
Daniel Levine is part of a new generation of IR scholars that takes a more pluralist approach to addressing the hard and important questions generated by international politics. While many of those interviewed here display a fairly consistent commitment to a certain position within what is often referred to as 'the debate' in IR, Levine straddles the boundaries of a diverse range of positions and understandings. Time to ask for elaboration.
Print version of this Talk (pdf)
What is, according to you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current IR? What is your position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?
The question I'd like us to be asking more clearly than we are is, 'are we a vocation and, if so, what kind of vocation are we'? This points to a varied set of questions that we, as scholars, gesture to but spend relatively little theoretical time developing or unpacking. There's an assumption that the knowledge we produce is supposed to be put good for something, practical in light of some praiseworthy purpose. Even theorists who perceive themselves to be epistemologically value-free hope, I think, at least on an intuitive level, that some practical good will emerge from what they do. They hope that they are doing 'good work' in the sense that some Christians use this term. But, there is not really a sustained project of thinking through how those works work: how our notions of vocation might be different or even mutually exclusive, and how the differences in our notions of vocation might be bound up in non-obvious ways to our epistemological, methodological, and theoretical choices.
Moreover, except for a few very important and quite heroic (and minoritarian) efforts, we don't really have a way to think systematically about the structure of the profession: how it influences or intervenes or otherwise acts on particular ideas as they percolate through it, and how those ideas get 'taken up' into policy. Brian Schmidt has done work like that, so has Inanna Hamati-Ataya, Ole Waever, Ido Oren, Oded Löwenheim, Elizabeth Dauphinee, Naeem Inayatullah, and Piki Ish-Shalom; and it's good work, but they are doing what they are doing with limited resources, and I think without due appreciation from a big chunk of the field as to why that work is important and what it means.
When I started writing Recovering International Relations, I had wanted to recover the 'view from nowhere' that many social scientists idealize. You know, that methodological conceit where we imagine we are standing on Mars, watching the earth through a telescope, or we're Archimedes standing outside of the world, leveraging it with distance and dispassion. I had worked on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict for a long time, was living in Tel Aviv, working for a think tank, and was—am—an Israeli citizen and an American citizen. I had this somewhat shocking discovery right after the Second Intifada broke out. Most of my senior colleagues were deploying their expertise in what seemed to me to be a very tendentious way: to show why the second Intifada was Yassar Arafat's fault or the Palestinian Authority's fault—or, in a few cases, the Israelis' fault. There were some very simplistic political agendas that were driving this research. People were watching the evening news, coming into work the next morning, and then running Ehud Yaari's commentary through their respective fact-values-methods mill. Or if they were well-connected, they were talking to their friends on the 'inside', and doing the same thing.
It was hard to admit this for a long time, but I was very naïve. I found that very unsettling and quite disillusioning. That's why the view from nowhere was so appealing. I wanted to be able to talk about Israel and Palestine without taking a position on Israel and Palestine—but without eschewing the expertise I had acquired along the way, in part because I was a party to this conflict, and cared about its outcome. I was young, inexperienced, and slightly arrogant to boot—neither yet a scholar, nor an 'expert,' nor really aware of the game I was playing. So my objections were not well received, nor did I pose them especially coherently. To their credit, my senior colleagues did recognize something worthwhile in my diatribes, and they did their best to help me get into graduate school.
As the project developed, and as I started engaging with my mentors in grad school, it appeared that the view from nowhere was essentially impossible to recover. With Hegel and with the poststructuralists, we can't really think from nowhere; the idea of it is this kind of intellectual optical illusion, as though thinking simply happens, without a mind that is conditioned by being in the world. Therefore, there needs to be a process by which we give account of ourselves.
There are a variety of different ways to consider how one might do that. There's what we might call the agentic approach, in which we think through the structure of thought itself: its limitations, our dependence on a certain image of thinking notwithstanding those limits—thought's work on us, on our minds. This is closest to what I do, drawing on Adorno and Kant, and Adorno's account of how concepts work in the mind; how they pull us away from the things we mean to understand even as they give us the words to understand them. And drawing on Jane Bennett, William Connolly, Hannah Arendt, Cornel West, JoanTronto, and JudithButler to think through how one conditions oneself to accept those limitations from a space of love, humility and service. Patrick Jackson's (TheoryTalk #44) Conduct of Research in IR is quite similar to this approach; and so is Colin Wight's Agents, Structures and International Relations; though they use more philosophy of science than I do.
One could also do this more 'structurally.' One could say 'this is how the academy works and this is how the academy interconnects with the larger political community' and then try to trace out those links: I mentioned Hamati-Ataya, Oren, and Ish-Shalom, or you could think of Isaac Kamola, Helen Kinsella, or Srdjan Vucetic.
Any of those approaches—or really, some admixture of them—would be pieces of that project. I would like us to be doing more of that—alongside, not instead of, all the other things we are already doing, from historical institutionalism to formal modeling, to large-N and quantitative approaches, and normative, feminist and critical ones. I would like such self-accounting to be one of the things scholars do, that they take it as seriously as they take methods, epistemology, data, etc. Driving that claim home in our field, as it's presently constituted, is our biggest challenge.
How did you arrive at where you currently are in IR?
I'm 42, so the Cold War was a big deal. I'm American-born, and I was raised in a pretty typical suburb. John Stewart from the Daily Show is probably the most famous product of my hometown, though I didn't know him. My view of history was a liberal and progressive in the Michael Waltzer/Ulrich Beck/Anthony Giddens, vein, but I was definitely influenced by the global circumstances of the time, and by the 'End of History' discourse that was in the air. I thought that the US was a force of good in the world. I was a nice Jewish boy from New Jersey. I really wanted to live in Israel for personal reasons, and the moral challenge of living in Israel after the Intifada seemed to go away with the peace process. So, it seemed to me that it was a kind of golden moment: you could 'render unto Caesar what was due to Caesar', and do the same for the Lord. I could actually be a Jewish-Israeli national and also a political progressive. (That phrase is, of course, drawn from the Gospels, and that may give you some sense of how my stated religious affiliations might have differed from the conceptual and theological structures upon which they actually rested—score one for the necessity of reflexivity. But in any case, those events were important.)
I moved to Israel when I was 22 and was drafted into the military after I took citizenship there. In the IDF, I was a low-level functionary/general laborer—a 'jobnik', someone who probably produces less in utility than they consume in rations. Our job was to provide support for the combatants that patrolled a certain chunk of the West Bank near Nablus—Shechem, as we called it, after the biblical name. I was not a particularly distinguished soldier. But we were cogs in a very large military occupation, and being inside a machine like that, you can see how the gears and pieces of it meshed together, and I started taking notice of this. Sometimes I'd help keep the diary in the operations room. You saw how it all worked, or didn't work; or rather, for whom it worked and for whom it didn't. All that was very sobering and quite fascinating.
I once attended a lecture given by the African politics scholar Scott Straus, and he said the thing about being present right after genocide is that you come across these pits full of dead bodies. It's really shocking and horrific—there they are, just as plain as day. Nothing I saw in the sheer level of violence compares to that in any way—I should stress this. But that sense of it all just being out there, as plain as day, and being shocked by this—that resonated with me. Everyone who cared to look could understand how the occupation worked, or at least how chunks of it worked. So I would say in terms of events, those things were the big pieces that structured my thinking.
Here's two anecdotal examples. Since I was a grade of soldier with very limited skills, I was on guard duty a lot. We had a radio. I could hear the Prime Minister on the radio saying we are going to strike so-and-so in response to an attack on such-and-such, and then I could see helicopters pass overhead to Nablus, and then I could see smoke. Then I could see soldiers come back from going out to do whatever it was the helicopter had provided air support for. I'd see ambulances with red crescents or red Stars of David rush down the main road. It began to occur to me that there was a certain economy of violence in speech and performance. I didn't think about it in specifically theoretical terms before I went back to graduate school, but Israelis had been killed, political outrage had been generated. There was a kind of affective deficit in Israeli politics that demanded a response, and some amount of suffering had to be returned—so the government could say it was doing its job. I found this very depressing. My odd way of experiencing this—neither fully inside nor outside—is certainly not the most important or authentic, and I'm not trying to set myself up as an expert on this basis. I'm only trying to account for how it made me think at the time and how that shows up in what and how I write now.
Later, when I was in the reserves, I was in the same unit with the same guys every year. One year, we were lacing our boots and getting our equipment for our three weeks of duty in a sector of the West Bank near Hebron, I think it was. I remember one guy, one of the more hawkish guys, said 'we'll show 'em this time, we'll show them what's what'. Three weeks later, that same guy said 'Jeez, it's like we're like a thorn in their backside; no wonder they hate us so much.' (He actually used some colorful imagery that I can't share with you.) I remember thinking, 'well, ok, he'll go home and he'll tell his family and his friends; some good will come of this.' The next year, I saw the same guy saying the same thing at the start, 'we'll show those SOBs.' And then three weeks later, 'oh my God, this is so pointless, no wonder they hate us…' So after a few years of this I finally said to him, 'tagid, ma yihiyeh itcha?'—Like, dude, what's your deal? 'We've had this conversation every year! What happens to you in the 48 weeks that you're not here that you forget this?' And I think he looked at me like, 'what are you talking about?'
I thought about that afterwards: we have these moments of experience when we're out of our everyday environment and discourse, the diet of news and fear, PR and political nonsense—that's when these insights become possible. So, when this guy comes in and says 'ok, we'll get those SOBs,' he's carrying with him this discourse that he has from home, from the news and TV, from his 'parliament' with his friends where they get together and talk about politics and war and economics and whatever else—and then a few weeks of occupation duty disrupts all that, makes him see it in a different light, and he has these kinds of fugitive experiences which give him a weirdly acute critical insight. Suddenly, he's this mini-Foucault.
In a few weeks, though, he goes back to his life, there's no space or niche into which that uncomfortable, fugitive insight can really grow, so it just sort of disappears or withers on the vine, its power is dissipated. This is a very real, direct experience of violence and it's covered over by all of this jibber-jabber. So there's a moment where you start to wonder: what exactly happens there? What happens in those 48 weeks? What happens to me during those weeks? You can see how a kind of ongoing critical self-interrogation would evolve out of that. Again, none of those things are exactly what my book's about, but it gives you a sense of how you might find Adorno's kind of critical relentlessness and negativity vital and important and really useful and necessary. You can see how that might inform my thinking.
In terms of books, as an undergraduate, I had read, not very attentively, Said and Foucault, and all of the stuff at the University of Chicago we had to take in what they called the 'Scosh Sequence,' from sociologists like Elijah Anderson and William Julius Wilson to Charles Lindblom and Mancur Olsen: texts from the positive and the interpretive to the post-structural. I had courses with some very smart Israeli and Palestinian profs—Ephraim Yaar, Salim Tamari, Ariela Finkelstein. And of course Rashid Khalidi was there at that time. Once I was in the military, the Foucault and Said suddenly started popping around in my head. Suddenly, this sort of lived experience of being on guard duty made the Panopticon and the notion of discipline go from being a rather complicated, obscure concept to something concrete. 'Oh! That's what discipline is!'
When I went back to graduate school, I was given a pretty steady diet of Waltz, rational deterrence theory, Barry Posen, Stephen Walt (Theory Talk #33), and Robert Jervis (Theory Talk #12). Shai Feldman was a remarkable teacher, so were Ilai Alon in philosophy, Shlomo Shoham in sociology and Aharon Shai in History. Additionally I had colleagues at work who were PhD students at the Hebrew University working with Emanuel Adler; they gave me Wendt (Theory Talk #3), Katzenstein's (TheoryTalk # 15) Culture of National Security, Adler and Barnett, and Jutta Weldes' early article on 'Constructing National Interests' in the EJIR (PDF here). My job was to help them publish their monographs, so I got really into the guts of their arguments, which were fascinating. I am not really an agency-centered theory guy anymore and I am not really a constructivist anymore, but that stuff was fantastic. I saw that one could write from a wholly different viewpoint, perspective, and voice. This is all very mainstream in IR now, but at the time, it felt quite edgy, very novel. Part of the reason why the middle chapters of Recovering IR has these long discussions about different kinds of constructivism is that I wouldn't have had two thoughts to rub together if it was not for those books. I do disagree with them now and strongly, but they were very important to me all the same.
What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the world in a global way?
I'd be more comfortable answering that question as someone who was, until relatively recently, a grad student. I've not been productive long enough to say 'Well, here's how to succeed in this business and be a theorist of enduring substance or importance' with any authority. But I can say, 'here's how I'm trying to be one.' There's a famous article by Albert O. Hirschman called 'The Principle of the Hiding Hand,' (PDF here) and in it he says that frequently, the only way one can get through really large or complicated projects is to delude oneself as to how hard the project is actually going to be. He takes as an example these ambitious, massively complicated post-colonial economic projects of the Aswan High Dam variety. The only way such enormous projects ever get off the ground, he says, is if one either denies their true complexity or deludes oneself. Otherwise you despair and you never get it done. From the first day of seminar to dissertation proposal to job—thank God I had no idea what I was in for, or I might have quit.
Also, the job market being what it was, we had to be very, very passionate scholars who wrote and argued for the sheer intellectual rush and love of writing. And yet, we also had to be very practical and almost cynical about the way in which the academic market builds on the prestige of publications and the way in which prestige becomes shorthand for your commodity value. At least in the US, the decline of tenure and the emergence of a kind of new class of academics whose realm of responsibility is specifically to engage in uncomfortable kinds of political and moral critique—but without tenure, and at the mercy of a sometimes feckless dean, an overburdened department chair or fickle colleagues—that's very scary. If you're doing 'normal science', it's a different game and the challenges are different. But if your job is to do critique, in the last ten years, it's a very big deal. Very difficult. I'm very fortunate in that regard; at Alabama I've had great support from my department, my chair, and my college.
I was a Johns Hopkins PhD, and my department was fantastic in terms of giving me support, encouragement, getting out of my way while throwing interesting books at me, reading drafts that were bad and helping me make them good—or at least telling me why they were bad. We did not get particularly good professional training, because I think they did not want us to get professionalized before we found our own voice. I'm really grateful for that, truly. But then there's this period in which you have to figure out how to make your voice into a commodity. That's really tough, it's a little bit disheartening—even to discover that you must be a commodity is dismaying; didn't we go into the academy to avoid this sort of logic? But just like Marx says, commodities have a double life, and so do you. The use-value of your scholarship and its exchange-value do not interlock automatically and without friction. So you spend all this time on the use-value of it—writing a cool, smart, interesting dissertation—thinking that will translate into exchange-value, and it turns out that it sort of does, but a lot of other things translate into exchange-value too that aren't really about how good your work is necessarily. And many of your colleagues, if what you're doing is original, won't really understand what you're doing; the value or the creativity of it won't be apparent to them unless they spend a lot of time sifting through your bad drafts of it, which only a few—but God bless those—will do. So how you create exchange-value for yourself is important. So is finding people who will care about you, your project, your future—and learning when to take their advice, when to ignore it, and how to do so tactfully.
If all that's hard, you're probably doing it right. It's unfortunate that that's how it is, but at all events, that's how it was for me.
Would you elaborate on the concept of vocation and why this is so important to the view from nowhere? It is important to say that the view from nowhere is perhaps difficult. So is vocation, or a kind of Weberian approach, a way to articulate that for you?
There's a quote in a book from a Brazilian novelist named Machado de Assis. His protagonist is this fellow Bras Cubas, who's writing a posthumous memoir of his own life. He's writing from beyond the grave. From there, he can view his whole life and his entire society from outside; he's finally achieved positivism's view from nowhere. But the thing about this view—and the book means to be a sendup of the Comtean positivism that was fashionable in Brazil in those days—is that it gives him no comfort. He now knows why he lived his life the way he did; how he failed and what was—and what was not—his fault. The absurdity of it all makes sense. But it changes nothing: he has died unfulfilled, unloved, and essentially alone: a minor poet and back-bench politician who was ultimately of little use to anyone nor of much to himself. All he knows is how that happened.
In the end, if we're all playing a role in how a world comes into being and it's in some sense our job simply to accept this, and our job as scholars merely to explain it, this gives us no comfort in the face of suffering, in the face of violence and evil. To some extent as scholars, and to some extent as a discipline, we exist as a response to evil, to suffering, to foolishness, to folly; it's not a coincidence that the first professorship of IR is created in Britain in the wake of WWI, and that it's given to someone like E. H. Carr.
If we don't have a view from nowhere because we've given up anything like a moral sense that can't be reduced to fractional, material, or ideological sensibilities, and if we know that sometimes those 'views from somewhere' can provide cover for terrible kinds of evil or justify awful kinds of suffering, then the notion of vocation seems to come in at that point and say well, 'here's what I hope I'm doing', or 'here's what I wish to be doing', or 'here's what I'd like to think I'm doing', and then allowing others to weigh in and give their two cents. Vocation, in the sense of Weber's lectures, comes out of that. It's Kant for social scientists: What can I know? What should I do? For what may I hope? In other words, what the necessity and obligation of thinking is on the one hand, and on the other what its limitations are.
This is a way to save International Relations from two things: one, from relativism and perspectivism, and the other, from a descent into the technocratic or the managerial. I am trying to stand between the two. My own intellectual background was in security studies at Tel Aviv University in the 1990s: the period immediately after Maastricht, in the period of the Oslo Process, the end of Apartheid. My hope back in the days when the peace process seemed to me to be going well was that I'd be able to have a kind of technocratic job in Israel's Ministry of Foreign Affairs or Defense. Counting tanks, or something similar. I thought that would be a pretty good job. I would be doing my part to maintain a society that had constructed a stable, long-term deterrent by which to meaningfully address the problem of Jewish statelessness and vulnerability, but without the disenfranchisement of another people. I could sit down and count my tanks with a clear conscience, because the specter of evil was being removed from that work. The problem of the occupation was being be solved. Again, it's somewhat embarrassing to admit this now.
I would say in the US academy, there is definitely a balance in favor of the technocrats. We have enormous machines for the production and consumption of PhDs in this country. The defense establishment is an enormous player. Groups like the Institute for Defense Analysis need a lot of PhDs, the NSF funds a lot of PhDs (for now, at least), and that tips the balance of the profession in a certain way. My ability to use ideas compellingly at ISA won't change that fact all by itself, there's a base-superstructure issue in play there.
In Europe, it's a different story, for a bunch of reasons. The defense establishments of the EU member states aren't as onerous a presence. And, there are more of them; so there's a kind of diversity there and a need to think culturally about how these various institutions interlock and how people learn to talk to each other: the Martha Finnemore-to-Vincent Pouliot-to-Iver Neumann (Theory Talk #52) study of ideas and institutions and officials. Plus, you have universities like the EUI and the CEU, which are not reducible to any particular national interest or education system; creating knowledge, but for a political/state form that's still emergent. No one knows exactly what it is, what its institutions and interests will ultimately be. Because of that, it's hard to imagine the EUI producing scholars with obviously nationally-inflected research programs, like Halford Mackinder, Mahan, Ratzel from a century ago. There will still be reifications and ideologies, but there's more 'give' since the institutions are still in play. And there's fantastically interesting stuff happening in Australia, and in Singapore—think of people like Janice Bialley-Mattern, Tony Burke and Roland Bleiker.
Critique has a long and controversial history in our discipline. Could you perhaps elaborate, as a kind of background or setting, how critique can be used in IR and why you've placed it at the center of your approach to IR theory?
Critique as term of art comes into the profession through Robert Cox (Theory Talk #37) and through the folks that were writing after him in the '90s, including Neufeld, Booth, Wyn-Jones, Rengger, Linklater and Ashley—though pieces of the reflexive practice of critique are present in the field well before. For Cox, the famous line is that theory is always 'for something and for someone.' The question is, if that's true how far down does that problem go? Is it a problem of epistemology and method, or is it a problem of being as such, a problem of ontology? Is it fundamental to the nature of politics?
If the set of processes to which we refer when we speak of 'thinking' is inherently for someone and for something, and that problem harkens back to the idea that all thinking is grounded in one's interests and perspectives, i.e., that all practical or systematic attempts to understand politics are 'virtuous' in the Machiavellian sense (they serve princely interests) but not necessarily in the Christian sense (deriving from transcendent values), then we have a real problem in keeping those two things separate in our minds. Think of Linklater's book Men and Citizens in International Relations as a key node in that argument, though Linklater ultimately believes (at least in that book) that a reconciliation between the two is possible. I'm less convinced.
Now recall the vocation point we discussed before. IR as a discipline has a deep sense of moral calling which goes beyond princely interest. And the traditions on which it draws are as much transcendently normative as anything else. So encoded in our ostensibly practical-Machiavellian analyses is going to be something like a sense of Christian virtue; we'll believe we're not merely correct in our analyses, but really and truly right in some otherworldly, transcendent way. True or not, that sense of conviction will attach itself to our thinking, to the political forces and agendas that we're serving. We'll come to believe that we are citing Machiavelli in the service of something greater: whether that's 'scientific truth' or the national interest, or what have you. Nothing could be more dangerous than that. Critique, as an intervention, comes here: to dispel or chasten those beliefs. Harry Gould, Brent Steele, and especially Ned Lebow (Theory Talk #53) write about prudence and a sense of finitude: these are the close cousins of this kind of critique.
If we take seriously the notion that people sometimes fight and kill in the service of really awful causes while believing they are doing right, and that scholars sometimes help them sustain those convictions rather than disabuse them of them—even if they do not intend this—then critique becomes an awfully big problem and it really threatens to undermine the profession as such. It opens up a whole new level of obligation and responsibility, and it magnifies what might otherwise be staid 'inside baseball'—Intramural scholarly or methodological debates. Part of the reason why the 'great debates' were so great—so hotly fought—had to do with this: our scholarly debates were, in fact, ideological ones.
It undermines the field in another way as well. If we take critique seriously, there's got to be a lot of moral reflection by scholars. That will make it hard to produce scholarship quickly, to be an all-purpose intellectual that can quickly produce thought-product in a policy-appropriate way, because I will want to be thinking from another space, and of course precisely what policy-makers want is that you don't think from some other space; that you present them with 'shovel ready' policy that solves problems without creating new ones.
So you now have not just a kind of theoretical or methodological interruption in the discussion of, say, absolute or relative gains. You now have to give an account of yourself. And for me, that's what critique in IR means. To unpack the definition I gave above, it's the attempt to give an account of what the duties and limits of one's thinking are in the context of politics, given the nature of politics as we understand it. Because IR comes out of the Second World War, we're bound to take the most capacious notions of what political evil and contingency can be; if we are not always in the midst of genocide and ruin, then we are at least potentially so. And so contingency and complexity and all the stuff that we're talking about must face that. I want to hold out that Carl Schmitt and Hans Morgenthau might be right—in ways which neither they, nor I, can completely fathom. Then I have to give accounts of thinking that take a level of responsibility commensurate with that possibility.
In that vein, when I look at accounts of thinking in the context of the political, when I look at what concepts are and how they work and how they do work on the world so that it can be rendered tractable to thought, I realize that what we come up with when we're done doesn't look very much like politics anymore. We have tools which, when applied to politics, change it quite dramatically; they reify or denature it. To be critical in the face of that, you're going to be obliged to an extensive degree of self-interrogation and self-checking, which I call chastening.
That process of chastening reason, is, in effect, what remains of the enlightenment obligation to use practical reason to improve what Bacon called the human estate. What's left of that obligation is to think in terms of the betterment of other human beings as best as you can, knowing you can't do that very well, but that you may still be obliged to try.
That's really hard to do and it's an odd form of silence and non-silence. After all, if I were to look at the Shoah while it was happening, or look at what happened in Rwanda, and say 'well, I don't really have a foundational position on which to stand so I can't analyze or condemn that'—that would not be a morally acceptable position. Price and Reus-Smit (TheoryTalk #27) say this in their 1998 article and they are absolutely right. But then there's the fact that I don't quite know what to say beyond 'stop murdering people!' The world is so easy to break with words, and so hard to put back together with them—assuming anyone cares at all about anything we say. So I am obliged to respond to those kinds of events when I see them, and I am also obliged to acknowledge that I can't respond to them well, because my authority comes from the conceptual tools I have, and they aren't really very good. Essentially, what I'm doing as scholar of IR is the equivalent is using the heel of my shoe to hammer in a nail. (That's a nice line, no? I wish it was mine, but it's Hannah Arendt.) It will probably work, but it will take a while, and the nail won't go in so straight. To chasten one's thinking is to remind oneself that the heel of one's shoe is not yet a hammer; that all we're doing is muddling through—even when we do our work with absolute seriousness and strict attention to detail, context and method—as of course we should.
You discuss IR theory in terms of different reifications. In which was does that also lead you to take a stand against a Weberian understanding of IR?
I think where I depart from Weber is that he has more faith than I do that, at some point, disenchantment produces something better. There is faith or hope on their part that the iron cage that we experience as a result of disenchantment and as a result of the transformation from earlier forms of charismatic and traditional authority to contemporary rational ones won't always be oppressive, not forever. New forms and ways of being will emerge, in which those disenchanted modes actually will fulfill their promise for a kind of improvement in the human estate. If it's a long, complicated process—hence the image of slow boring into hard wood—but faith is still justified, good things can still happen.
For me, the question is how would you manage a society that is liable to go insane or to descend into moments of madness because of the side-effects or intervening effects of disenchantment and modernization, while holding fast to the notion that at some point, this is going to get better for most people? I'm a bit less certain about that than I read Patrick and Weber being. I think that even if they're right, it makes sense morally as scholars, not necessarily as citizens or individuals or people, to dwell in the loss of those who fall along the way.
I find myself thinking about the people who are gone a lot. My ex-wife teaches on slavery, and I think a lot about this terrible thing she once told me. On slave ships, when there was not enough food they would throw the people overboard because ship masters got insurance money if their property went overboard, but not if human beings succumbed on-ship. There's a scene depicting this in Spielberg's film Amistad and it haunts me. I find myself thinking about those people, dragged under with their chains. I wonder what they looked like, what they had to say. I wonder what they might have created or how their great-great grandchildren children would have played with my child. I wonder if my best friend or true love was never born because her or his ancestor died in this way. An enormous number of people perished. I can't quite believe this, even if I know it's true.
Yoram Kaniuk, the recently deceased Israeli novelist, wrote that the Israeli state was built on the ground-up bones of the Jews who couldn't get there because it was founded too late. I wonder about them too. And when I taught course modules on Cambodia, I would find myself looking at the photographs made of the people in Tuol Sleng before they were killed, the photo archives which the prison kept for itself. There is a mother, daughter, father, brother, son, and I find myself drawn into their eyes and faces. I don't want those people to disappear into zeros or statistics. I want somehow to give them some of their dignity back, and I want to dwell in the tragic nature my own feeling because it bears remembering that I cannot ever really do that. If I remember that, I will have some sense of what life's worth is, and I won't speak crassly about interventions or bombings or wars—wherever I might come down on them. I would say that it's almost a religious obligation to attend to the memory of those people. My desire to abide with them makes me very, very suspicious of hope or progress. I want this practice of a kind of mourning or grief to chasten such hope.
There's a problem with that position. Some will point out to me that this will turn into its own kind of Manichean counter-movement, a kind of Nietzschean ressentiment. Or else that dwelling in mourning has a self-congratulatory quality to it. And there are certainly problems with this position at the level of popular or mass politics. We do see a lot of ressentiment in our politics. On the left, there's a lot of angry, self-aggrandizing moral superiority. And you can think about someone like Sarah Palin in the US as a kind of populist rejection of guilt and responsibility from the right.
But as social scientists, we might have space to be the voice for that kind of grief, to take it on and disseminate the ethics that follow from it; to give that grief a voice. That kind of relentless self-chastening is what I'm all about. I think it opens you up to new agendas and possibilities. I think it's a much deeper way to be 'policy relevant' than most of my colleagues understand this term. If we are relentlessly self-critical as scholars, and if we relentlessly resist the appropriation of scholarly narratives to simplistic moral or political ends and if we, as a society, help to build an intolerance of that and a sense of the mourning that comes out of that, we also open our society up to say things like, 'ok, well what's left?'
And then, well, maybe a lot of things are left, and some of them are not so bad. Maybe we start to imagine something better. That's where I'd rejoin Jackson and Weber; after that set of ethical/emotional/spiritual moves. I think, by the way, that Patrick mostly agrees with me; it's only a question of what his work emphasizes and what mine has emphasized. On this point, consider Ned Lebow's notion of tragedy. He and I disagree on some of the details of that notion. But on top of his remarkable erudition, he's a survivor of the Shoah. I suspect he has thought very deeply about grief and mourning, and in ways that might not be open to me.
The final question I want to pose to you is a substantive one: Your understanding of critique somehow does relate to sustaining progress, in a way. Perhaps on the one hand, you are not so optimistic as Weber was, but on the other hand, your work conveys the sense that it is possible to bridge the gap between concepts and things. I'm not sure if it's possible, but perhaps you can relate it to the substantive example of how your work relates to concrete political situations. I think the example of Israel-Palestine comes to mind best.
Again, I don't think I am as optimistic as that. In my heart of hearts, I desperately wish this to be the case. To think of the people who were most influential on my intellectual development—my cohort of fellow grad students at Johns Hopkins and our teachers, to whom as a group I owe, really, everything in intellectual terms—I was certainly in the minority view. Most of them were, I think, working in the Deleuzian vein of making 'theory worthy of the event.' I just don't believe that's possible; or anyway I think it's really, really, really hard, the work of a generation to tell that story well and have it percolate out into our discipline and our culture. In the meantime, we must muddle through. I hope I'm wrong and I hope they're right. I'm rooting for them, even as I try to give them a hard time—just as I give Keohane (Theory Talk #9) and Waltz and Wendt and everyone else I write about a hard time. But I'd be happy, very happy, to be wrong.
What I do think can be done is that you can sustain an awareness of the space between things-in-themselves and concepts, and by extension some sense of the fragility and the tenuousness of the things that you think and their links to the things that you do. Out of this emerges a kind of chastened political praxis.
You mentioned Israel and Palestine, which I care a great deal about and am trying to address more squarely in the work I'm doing now, partly on my own and partly in pieces I've worked on with my colleague Daniel Monk. What we observe is that though the diplomatic negotiations failed pretty badly twelve and a half years ago, we're still looking at the same people running the show: the same principal advisers and discussants and interlocutors: in the US and Israel and in the Palestinian Authority. The same concepts and assumptions too. Just a few days ago, Dennis Ross published a long op-ed about how we get the peace process back on track, and you might think that you're reading something from another time—as though the conflict were a technical challenge rather than a political one. You know that Prince song about 'partying like it's 1999'?
I don't know what a peaceful, enriching, meaningful Israeli-Jewish-Arab-Palestinian-Muslim-Christian collective co-existence or sharing of space or world looks like, but I know that this pseudo-politics ain't that. When I see something that's just a re-hashing, I can say, 'come on guys, that is not thinking, that's recycling the old stuff and swapping out dates, proper nouns and a few of the verbs.' Nor is it listening to other voices who might inspire us in different ways, or might help us rethink our interests, categories and beliefs. Lately, I've been listening to a band called System Ali, hip-hop guys from Jaffa's Ajami quarter, who sing in four languages. What they say matters less to me than the fact that they really seem to like another, they trust each other, they let each voice sing its song and use its words. They have something to teach me about listening, thinking, acting and feeling—because it's music after all—and that can produce its own political openings.
Of course, there are pressure groups, from industry and AIPAC to whatever else in the US, and those groups merit discussion and debate, but I'm also wary of the counter-assumption which follows from folks who talk about this too reductively: that there actually is an American interest, or a European or Arab or Israeli one, which somehow transcends partisan interest—one that can be recovered once the diaspora Jews, the oil moguls, the arms dealers or the Christian 'Left Behind' people are taken out of the picture. That feels like the same heady brew that Treitschke and Meinecke and the German realpolitik scholars poured and drank: that the national state has some transcendent purpose to which we gain access by rising above or tuning out the voices of the polity or its chattering classes. Only with a light liberal-internationalist gloss: Meinecke meets David Lake (Theory Talk # 46), Anne-Marie Slaughter or John Ikenberry.
I can also go meet starry-eyed idealists who want to hold hands and sing John Lennon, I can say to them yes, I want to hold your hand and sing John Lennon, but I am also enough of a social scientist to know that if a policy does not respond to real and pressing problems—water, land, borders etc.—that any approach that does not respond to those things will be hopelessly idealist. It will be what my granny called luftmentsch-nachess—the silly imaginings of men with their heads in the clouds, like the parable about Thales and the Thracian maiden. I am not interested in being either a luftmentsch nor a technocrat. So what does that leave with you with? You need to balance.
You can look at groups at the margins of political culture to see what they can tell you. In Israel and Palestine, it's groups like Ta'ayush, Breaking the Silence and Zochrot, and this settler leader who recently died, Rabbi Frohman, who was going out and meeting every Palestinian leader he could because for him, being a Jew in the land was not, in the first instance about his Israeli passport. There were and are possibilities for discussion that feel really pregnant and feel very different from the conversation we are sustaining now; which reveal its shallowness and its limitations and its pretentiousness. These other voices are of course not ideal either, they are going to have their own problems and limitations, their own descent into power and exclusion and so on, but they reveal some of the lie of what we're doing now.
I guess in the end, social scientists make a living imagining the future on the basis of the past. I also spend a lot of time reading novels and watching books and films. Partly because I am lazy and I like them. Partly because I'm looking for those novels and films to help me imagine other possibilities of being that aren't drawn from the past. Art, Dewey tells us in The Public and its Problems, is the real bearer of newness. Maybe then, I get to grab onto those things and say ok, what if we made those them responsive to an expansive materialist analysis of what an Israeli-Palestinian peace would need to survive? What if we held the luftmentsch's feet to the materialist/pragmatic fire, even as we held the wonk's feet to the luftmentsch's fire? Let them both squeal for a while. There's possibility there.
Daniel J. Levine is assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Among his recent publications (see below) stands out his book Recovering International Relations.
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Faculty Profile at U-Alabama Read the first chapter of Levine's Recovering IR (2012) here (pdf) Read Barder and Levine's The World is Too Much (Millennium, 2012) here (pdf) Read Levine's Why Morgenthau was not a Critical Theorist (International Relations, 2013) here (pdf) Read Monk and Levine's The Resounding Silence here (pdf)
Issue 20.2 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; JOHN B. WAIN, M.D. Psychological Problems in Religious Life In the religious press it is becoming more common to find articles on the psychological problems of the dedi-cated life, but itis unusual to read any contributions from doctors. As one who has been privileged to associate closely with religious and to care for them over many years, this writer feels that his observations may be of some use to the great army of admirable, holy, an_.d well balanced priests, brothers, and sisters when they have to help the small but important group of priests and religious who suffer from nervous disorders. The layman gains the im-pression that psychological difficulties are some of the greatest problems which religious have to face; indeed, unspoken misgivings about this matter may be partly re-sponsible for the shortage of vocations. This may operate in two ways. Parents are willing to let their children face martyrdom at the hands of the pagans, but they have their reservations about the unnecessary crosses to be taken up daily in the community or in the rectory, Children who have suffered injustice from a neurotic teacher will eschew the risk of joining that order or congregat.ion when they grow up. The price of retaining one such maladjusted person in the community without giving him the proper care and attention might be the loss of twenty vocations from among successive classes of pupils and the estrange-ment of an equal number of tentative converts. As a starting point for discussion on the matter, two broad generalisations will be offered. First, there is too much neurosis among religious. Second, much of it is avoidable or preventible. These are merely clinical im-pressions. It is impossible to assess accurately the incidence of nervous disease in any group or nationality; neverthe-less, confirmation of the above two ideas can be easily found in conversations with Catholic doctors and'religious nurses. All such persons agree about the existence of neu-÷ ÷ John B. Wain, M.D., is a ph},sician with man.}, years of experience m treating men and women religious. VOLUME 20~ 1961 8! 4. 4. 4. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 82 rosis among religious men and women. One doctor who visits a man's religious institution of thirty members states that in the weekly sick parade there, there are always at least ten with inconsequential complaints. It is a fair observation to say that every community, however small, has at least one neurotic problem to deal with. This situation is most unsatisfactory. The energies of the supe-rior are dissipated in managing the misfit, and the unity of the community is endangered. The saddest task for the doctor is to institute .psychiatric treatment for one who has suffered a nervous breakdown in Christ's service. Sometimes these patients are nursed along for years for fear that their state may reflect badly on the order's way of life. This may be so, but it is a disastrous policy to delay seeking psychiatric help in the hope that the dis-order will remit spontaneously. Sister M. William Kelley1 in a unique article has given the incidence of hospitalized mental illness among re-ligious sisters in the United States. Her paper was notable for its courage in facing up to the problem and for the fact that the main religious mental hospitals refused to cooperate with her in the investigation. This unwilling-ness to submit the problem to discussion is not uncommon, even though such discussion would be productive of great good. The truth cannot harm us. Sister William found that, when compared with women in secular life, religious suffered from a higher incidence of psychotic (particularly schizophrenic) and psychoneurotic disorders, even though because of prior selection they have less mental deficiency, and chronic brain syndromes. She concluded that pre-psychotic personalities may be attracted to the religious life on the basis of what they think it will do for their un-satisfied desires and that the increase of mental disorder among active religious may be due to factors of stress such as overcrowded classes and understaffed hospitals. Two suggestions are made by the present writer for the prophylaxis of this state of affairs. More~importance should be given to p~ychological matters in the selection of seminarians, postulants, and novices; and there could be a systematic reduction in factors causing nervous stress in the lives of professed religious. A common impression is that many of these psychiatric patients enter religion without adequate psychological assessment, Often the family history of mental disease is ignored, or the personal history of previous nervous br2akdown is not taken seri-ously enough. These should be serious contraindications to acceptance, although it must be admitted that Blot ¯ Sister M. William Kelley, I.H,M., "The Incidence of Hospitalized, Mental Illness among Religious Sisters in. the United States," The American Journal of Psychiatry, 115 (i958-1959), 72-75. and Galimard2 give the impression that such unsuitable candidates may sgm_etimes-be,considered for religioys life. - . - It should n~t l~e too difficult to introduce some f~)rm of " psychological testing for all applicants to seminaries.and to religious life. The Califoi'nia ~'~gt of "Mental' ~V~ity;_ the DifferentialApti.tude Test, or the He.nmqn-Nelson test. could be used to gauge general intelligence, while.,~ per~" son~ality profile of the applican.ts.c, ou_ld be achieved by,:~he use of the Edwards PersOnal. Prgference Schedule,~ the Guilford-Zimmerman Temp.eram~enL Survey, _or t,he Mid-_ nesota.Per.sonality Scale. These tests can be .proctored by" persons.with no special tra_i~nin~g alth,0ugh the~,i~erpreta; tion of them should be en~.tr, u~ted to.some0ne with training in, psychology. When" these tests mncover a, Oos's'ib~, sig-nificant_ area Qf defect in the appl!cant, he can be refer.red, to a competent psycho~logis~.fo.r further examination be-fore he is accepted by the seminary or rellgaous lnsutute. Masters and mistre.sse, s of novices should have some specialized tr~fining in psychologiEal work so that they. can recognize early the sy.mptoms, of maladjustment and dismiss such subjects from the community b~'fore they disturb its peace and b'~lance. O~n~ common type. w~ may be mistakenly admitted-is ~the girl ~ho stays on at the convent boardin~school until.the age of nineteen or twenty, unable to make up her-mihd ab6ut°the. future.i This is a serious form of. immaturity,.wh~ose progn6sis, in religign, is poor. The admission~ of youths and girls the age of" sixteen also involves the°risk bf, ac~eptii~g vo-cations which, are_ based.on~,immature co~ncep, ts, while late entrants tend to.be too.,, independent to acce.pt.religi~ous,. obedience. -. ,~,o , - - Much could be done.to reduce the psych,olo.gical stresses which are not an integral par, t. of religious life, the .m. o~,t potent weapon being the fosterin~ of a warm pa#~nta,.1 love between superiors and subjects. Accepting poverty,'chas-~ tity, obedience, and the in'es~apable difficulties d~ common~ life involves sufficient.sacrifice without creating ar'fificial' burdens. In. Oiscu~.s!ng~ .~eligi0tis vows, even-in a st~irit of humility, the doctor ,strays outside his specialty; ~bu~ the mtenuon here ~slto point out thexr medxcal repercus: sion~ in mentally disturbed p~ople. Pov~r~y,, ig iiaainly spirit/aM "concept of defachm~nt° from ear~h'l~ ~hxuri~ but not- the denial of the basic necessftids of-life. Religious. should lead a life-of.lfrugal' omfort,~not one 6f.pehur, y, hunger, and.,privati~;n i~aless~h~ seek these as%specifiC, penances.St. Therese of Lisieuxost.ated that h~r mare cross in the convent was bearing the cold, an indictment of.'tl~e insufficient heating. She died Of t(~berculosis at the ~geof. twent~-foui', when the hot, salt blood welled u'p i~i'to i;i"e~ ~ Ren~ Blot. M.D. and Pierre G~limard, M.D., Medicid Guide to Vocations (Westminister: Newman, 1955). 4. Psychological Problems " VOLUME 20, 196~. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 84 mouth~"she was happy to think how soon she would be in heaven. For her it was a saintly death; for her superior it was a comment" on the neglect of the community's health. St. Berhadette also suffered hardships in the convent and died of the same disease at thirty-five. Even now tuber-culosis is a risk for all young people in religion. Is it pos-sible that the vow of poverty has been misapplied? Chastity is the glory of the religious life and nothing can be done to make its acceptance any easier, but efforts should be made to eliminate false standards of purity which degenerate into prudery and unreasonable con-cepts of modesty. Gynecological complaints are often suffered'.for years before medical advice is sought, and maligfl~ant tumors are not reported until they are in-operable. The fact that some religious are not permitted to attend the reception of the sacrament of matrimony is a relic of Jansenism which may give offence to lay people and connotes false apprehensions about the nature of religious chastity. The kingdom of heaven suffers violence and only the violent can bear it away. Those who do violence to their own natures by taking religious vows must expect some repercussions, but these lose some of their force if they are discussed with frankness, tact, and objectivity. The deprivation of the consolations of married love and of childbearing mugt affect sisters particularly; as a result of this inner conflict between natural instincts and the ideals of the religious life, some may unwittingly suffer a suc-cession of functional, as distinct from organic, illnesses. Atypical ~ase will find that she is becoming irritable and depressed; she finds her daily work an intolerable bur- ° den and her sisters' foibles which she previously ignored b~cbme opl~ressive to her. She loses her appetite, becomes thin, sleeps badly, and has palpitations and chest pains suggestive of heart disease. She may have to accept stronger temptations against purity. This is reminiscent of the yceriasriss o wf mhiacrhri emd alinfey, ams ahrarsi abgeeens peoxipn~etr_ie~ndc~ eo uatf tbeyr Labecoluetr ctqe.n8 At this stage in life the first long struggle is over, the couple have rea~he~l financial stability, and' the difficult years of having several babies in tie house have passed. Both partners see the first ~vidences of age, and, realizing that degenerative diseases will start"~within another decade, some will desperately seek the excitement of youth. They must face temptations to ihfidelity, pride, and avarice. In religion some experience a similar crisis. After ten years they reach a stage of achievement and the gecurity that comes from seniority, but they find that youth has im- 8Jacques Leclercq, Marriage a Great Sacrament (Fresno: ~,cademy Library Guild, 1953). perceptibly~ slipped ~away and' they ask themselves if their vocation is really the right way of life. If they can hold on bravely with the assistance of prayer and the syinph-thetic undergtanding of an enlightened superior, they will pass through the storm ~nto the calm and contentment of a well integrated religious life. The menopause brings the game stresses as it does for lay women, and sisters should be advised to expect~ hot flushes, headaches, irritability, and depressions. Many of 'these symptoms can be helped by treatment. Younger sisters can be reassur.ed about the problems of dysmenor-rhoea, and premenstrual, tension. It is probably not uncommon for religious and lay people to experiencd sexual feelings at the quiet_ times of recollecuon anffat commumon. Thxs was referred to'w~th characteristic delica.cy., by St. Te,resa. of Avila when asked for advice on the matter' by hdr brother Rodrigo who was making his first steps~'in the mystical lif$. She implied that she also. had experienced t6~sefe~lings but that th~y disappeared when they were ignqred. "In God's design the happiness of the married life must be a pale shadow of the ecstas~ of the mystical Union~oand similar physiologi~M reactions accompany each. If these factg are uriderstood, there will be less distress for gqddlbeople who liave th~se otherwise d.is.turbing e~pe~iences. Obedience presents so many problems that the only unfailing guides are the'vi'rt~es of prudence and ~ha~ity. It is a necessary vow l~c~use only an austere':discipllne can lead to the full development of the strong personality which will accept sacrifices and will persevere in the re-ligiou~ vocatidn. It is falsely applied, however, if it de: stroys a sense of personal responsibility and initiative and if the command seems'to be an insult to the human dignity Of the subj~.kt. The essence of obedience is the surrender of the will; it is impgssible to surrender the intellect. It is unfortunate that an ekample of Obedience commonly quoted is that of St. Francis of Assisi who planted cabbages upside down. The saint is to be admired but not necessarily emulated. A young novice saw his master of novices scattering his carefully swept rubbish about the yard. When taked with untidiness, his acciden-tally acquired knowledge enabled him to accept the rebuke with apparent humility. If he had protested, his future in religion might have been prejudiced. It should be pos-sible to test virtue without having recourse to methods involving injustice, untruth; or deviations from the rule of charity. The end result of imposing an unre'asonable obedience is the fostering of immaturity in subjects and the formation of a type of religious who is almost inca-pable of making simple decision's or arranging anything outside the narrow cgmpass of his daily life. This is what 4, PPsryocbhloel~ongsical VOLUME 20, 1961 85 ÷ ÷ ÷ John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOU$ 86 irreverent clerics refei: to as "holy helplessness." The re-ligious life should ensourage the flowering of the com-plete personality in imitation of Christ and our Lady; it s ould produce'cultured.men and women, full of grace, strength, and inner peace. In this connection it is often stated that in religion men find their personalities while women lose theirs. Why should there be this difference? Many avoidable burdens arise from an undue rigidity of ttfe rule. A certain flexibility is desirable to adapt European customs to hfe ~n~ other geographical areas and-to make allowance for the changes of circumstances that" characterize the twentieth century. A sister I kno~ was unable to read the Confessions of St. Augustine be-cause the rule forbade taking books'from the public li-brary. This typ.e of r~striction exposes religious life t6 ridi-cule. Neither would the dignity of sisters suffer if they were to eat in public and to travel alone. There are certain physiological norms which the average "i~erson must bbey; accordingly, it should be the rule for mgst religious to have a minimum of seven hours sleep and not to work for more than twelve hours a d.ay ~(including in this the time necessary for the proper fulfilment of the prescribed religious and spiritual exer'cises of each da~). ~When recreation is tak.en, some relaxation of the artifi- 'ciality which has obtained in the past would do much good and would not harm the spirit of the 6rder or congrega-tion. Particular friendships ha,~e tr~ditionaliy been pro-scribed, bht this should not exclude those i~atural affinities which are felt by compatible personalities. These if fos-tered are a great consolation" to the parties and would not destroy the unity of the group, nor would they develop into a sinister relationship. Our Lord Himself encouraged a close friendship with St. John. , With the exception of enclosed 9rd~ers, ~ome reasonable access of parents to children "c'ould.~ well be encouraged, especially in times of illness oOr death. A regulation whereby a religious may not go to his~own parent's fun.eral, but may go to anyone else's, could well be rescinded. A1- "though the habit is only a small a~pect of cbnventual life, -somre lessons can;be drawn fro~a.]t. While possessing a certain antique charm, it is indicht~ive. ,of an orientation towards the past; and to those outside thd Ch~:~rch it sug-gests that the wearers do n_ot face up to and take part in modern life. The other n0t_able f~& is tha( the request of Pope Plus XII for modernisation of the habit fell to a grea{ extent upon deaf ears. Apart from some minor ad-justments which are obvious only to the initiate, the dress is unchanged. This is largely because of the innate con; servatism of women and the fakul.{y of fiabituat]o~n;o eact one thinks that members o,f every o.ther community a.nd the Salvation Army~look absurd. The times call for re-jection of the whole concept of what a religious habit should be and the deyelopment of a new dress. Just as clerics have rightly abandoned tonsure, so the cutting of the hair of religious~r~men could be restricted to a token or symbolical gesture, find the headdress discarded. Some nursing sisters with covered' ears are almost unable, to take blood pressure r.eadings Or t'6" i]]te~ to the fetal "l~eart. "Dur-ing the recent war priests in the armed services did not suffer loss of dignity fr6m adopting officer's dress; on the other hand, the pri,est workers"went too far in their adap-tation. In the stress of mc~dern living regular alternation of activity and rest is necessary; therefore annual holidays should be provided for. Only very wooden personalities can go bn for years withoiat variation in their routine of life. Much of the stress of the religious life results from at-tenipting to do too much, working too long, and being sent out on active duties with insufficient training. The Sister Formation Conferences"aim to correct this latter undesir-able trend. Al-though it may cause a temporary shortage of persorinE1, it mustpay dividends in the long run. The laborers have been too few since Christ first uttered th~se words, butrushing r~ligious through their training will not solve the eternal problem. The Church has tradi- (ionally been a bad employer, and the worst sufferers have been religious themselves. Their services are so valuable that they should have better welfare services than other employers progide. In this corine'ction it is both amusing and instructive to recall St. Teresa's chiding 6ur Lord for her misfortunes: "Is it any Wonder, Lord, that You have so few friends when people see h6w badly you treat ~tour chosen ones!" The beneficent influence of good art, even on unsophis-ticated rrlinds, is rarely ~u~ilized; it is common to see a poor standard of iriterior decoration, and pictorial art in convents and rectories, even though church architecture has advanced to a gratifying degree. A reasonable access to secular literfiture would not be harmful if it broadens the experience of religious and gives them some wider a~- preciation of the problems their pupils must face when they leave school. Those assigned to menial tasks should have some e'asily attainable goals arranged for them so that their spirits will not be crushed by monotony and by the lack of any evidence of achievement. ~uperiors have :the additional, worry of finance, ad-ministratiofi, and personnel management, for which they have Usually received no training. With only native common serise as a guide, they must learn with a trial and error method. One way to lift this secular burden would be to provide experienced lay advisers so" that the superior, could concentrate on his apostolate; this would, o~ course, involve som~ surrender of autonomy. A common error is to attribute fieurotic behavior to ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Problems VOLUME 20, 1961 '4. '4. ,4. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 88 a poor spiritual life~ and by that same token to expect that a more intense spiritual life'wilL cure a neurosis. A teaching brother was seen to change from a happy, agree-able person to one who was morose, withdrawn, and sus-picious. He went 'to the sacraments only infrequently and was given to outbursts of anger with his pupils. He was advised oto pray more, but this was expecting a miracle from grace. His main need was for .psychiatric treatment, which disclosed that his father had died in circumstances which he had always suspected were suicidal. He found himself having strange compulsive feelings when he looked out 'of high windows, and then he became scrupulous about matters of purity which he would normally have ignored. In the dark night of his soul, he felt abandoned by God and his community. With proper psychotherapy he recovered. Is this problem worth making a fuss about? Some would say that the status quo should be preserved; that the trials of religious life are the crosses which God in-tends for these souls; that He chooses the weak and foolish things of this world to confound the wise; that, according to Thurston,4 many of the saints and stigmatics were neurotics; that the command of the superior is God's will for the subject; and that in his handling of the prob-lems of his community the superior is given the grace of st.ate.All these arguments imply that infallibility is a widely diffused gift instead of a very limited one. In ac-cepting everything as God's will, people rarely draw,the distinction between His direct will and His permissive will, and therefore they do not admit that there can be mistakes or blunders in religious decisions. Is it impertinent for the layman to speak when he has no firsthand knowledge of religious life? In the spiritual health of the Mystical Body the layman is vitally con-cerned; moreover he is looking ahead to the welfare of his own children if and when they perceive a calling to enter religion. An investigation into the religious psy chological environment on a diocesan basis would produce fruitful results, but it would have to be undertaken a~ a cathartic exercise. The best religious, whose opinions, would be of the greatest value, are the very ones who l would count it a virtue to remain silent and unco.mplain-~ ing. How to integrate democratic processes into an author-I itarian governing structure is a difficult problem. C0nsid-I eration of all these factors influencing mental stabilityI renews our admiration for the great numbers of altruistici men and women who gaily sacrifice so many of the goodl things of life to make the total gift of themselves to God.I ~Herbert Thurston, s.J., The Physical Phenomena o! Mysticism (Chicago: Regnery, 1952). HENRY WILLMERING, SiJ. Charles Felix Van Q ickenborne "Father Charles van Quickenborne," writes Father Peter de Smet, "was the first Jesuit priest who appeared in the valley of the Misissippi after the reestablishment of the Society of Jesus. He was a.man full of zeal.for the salva-tion of souls. The conversion of the Indians w~as, impar-ticular; 'the object of his predilection and of his prayers. Long will his name be held in benediction, and his mem-ory celebrated in the places which h;id the happiness of receiving the fruits of his numerous labors,, and of his truly apostolic virtues." This commendation is from the pen of one of the seven novices who accompanied Father van Quickenborne to Missouri in 1823 to establish the nucleus of the Society of Jesus in the Middle West. Two years before, Peterde Smet and six Companions left their' native Belgium secretly to becomemissionaries to the Indians in North America. For this purpose they entered the Society in October, 1821, at Whitemarsh, Maryland, where shortly before Father van Quickenborne had been appointed master of novices. Unforeseen circumstances brought the group to the Indian country before their period of.probation was completed. The Right Reverend Louis Dubourg, bishop of' New Orleans and Upper Louisiana, had many'Indian tribes residing in his vast diocese, and he was anxiously seeking for missionaries to convert them. The success of the Jesuits in this work before the suppression of the Society prompted him to appeal to the Father General of the Society for ;help. He made a like appeal to the Superior of the Maryland mission and offered as an inducement the gift of a large, productive farm not far from the growing city of St. Louis. With the scanty number of available priests at their disposal, it seemed impossible to promise the bishop any help in the near future. Then Divine Providence intervened. In 1823 the finan, cial difficulties of every house" in the Maryland mission ÷ ÷ The Reverend Henry Willmering, Associate Editor of the REVIEW is stationed at St. Mary'S College, St. Marys~ Kansas. ~ VOLUME 20, 1961 89 REVIEWFORRELIGIOUS became so acute that the superior and his consultors seriously considered clo~ing the Whitemarsh novitiate and dismissing the novices. When told of this decision, Father van Quickenborne reminded the superior of Bishop Du-bourg's offer and of the readiness of himself and his novices to go to the Indian territory and work for the conversion of the natives. Accordingly, a concordat was entered into between the Bishop of New Orleans and Father Charles Neale, Supe_rior of the Maryland Province, to establish a novitiate of the Society at Florissant, Missouri, on condi-tion that, after the no,~i~es finished their spiritual and theological training, they would devote themselves to the apostolate of the Indians. The exodus from Whitemarsh was in the spring of 1823. The party consisted of two priests, seven novices, three lay-brothers, and three families of negro slaves. Two wagons carried the baggage across, the mountains to Wheeling on the. Ohio River. The young mi_ssionaries made the journey on foot across the Alleghenies. In Wheel- Ang they procured two flat boats; on one of them they placed the negroes and baggage, while the other served them as their 'floating.monastery.' They-drifted down the river day and night, stopping only to procure provisions. Religious exercises were. continued during the voyage as circumstances allowed. At Louisville, Kentucky, they landed their baggage, and a local pilot directed their craft over the falls of the river. At the foot of the falls they re-embarked and continued their river trip as far as, Shawnee-town, Illinois, Thence the missionaries made the last 150 miles through swamp land on foot, while a river,s_teamer carried ~their baggage, upstream to St. Louis, where they arrived on the last day of May. The entire trip lasted ,fifty days. " o The-homestead, which they were to inhabit on the, out- ,skirts of the village of Florissant, was a wretched log cabin, with a single room, measuring sixteen by eighteen feet, arid surmounted by a gable roof, so low that one could' not stand erect in,the attic beneath it. At a short distance from the house were ~two sheds, one had served as a pig pen/the other as a tool shed. The newcomers ~ere a bit disap-pointed, to find such primitive quarters, and the hardships encountered during the first few months"proved to,, be too great.for one novice andoaqay-brother~ who left during the summer of 1823. The others adapted themselves to the situation in a truly religious and missionary spirit.,The six noyices and two lay-brothers slept on the floor of the attic, while the single, room below was divided by a cur-tain, ,one side .being reserved as. the domestic chapel, the other as the living room for the priests. The.first shed was by turns study hall, classroom and r~fectory; the second served as kitchen and domicile for the negroes. ,, Much greater~ would .have been~the discomfort of.the Jesuit ,~communit'y had not Divine Providence assisted them through the generosity of~,Blessed Philippine Du-chesne and:her community. °The Religious of the Sacred ,Heart had moved to'Flonssant tliree years earher?~where they condudted a small boarding schbol.Often they de; prived themselves of what little they had to send it to:their neighbors. Furnithre, bedding, cooking utensils~.and~pro-visions were generously offered to the' Fathers and novices during the~,first~evere wifiter. ' "~ To relieve the acfite housing problem, the Jesuits ~be-gan work.immediately by collectin~building'ma_terials. Stone wag procured from a nearby quai-ry, timber,was cut and shaped, and when Ml,was ready a.,second.story, and spacious annex were added to the house. Ttiese hard~,and continuous .activities h~ever interrupted the ~spirituab ex-ercisEs. of the novitiate; but the.cold weather.and frequent snow storms put. a stop~to,~the labor till spring. Tl~e new additions were completed in June, and~ after thednterior ~had been remodelled, life became more bearable. . . -'Th( leader and guiding spirit of~this enterprise was a man,thirty-five years of age. Charles Felix_van Quicken-borne was,born in the village of Peteghem,'twelve miles w~st'of Ghent, on January 21;, 1788. His first studieswere made in Deynze; "then he attended the academy in Ghent, and finally entered the diocesan seminary in thatl city. From the first h.i~ talents and application~merited high praise. He was ordainedto the priesthood in 1812, and was appointed to teach the classics in the preparatory semi-nary of Roeselare: When, shortly after, Napoleon,,closed allthe seminaries in:F.tafiders and drhfted the stu'dents of military age, Father .Charles Was appointed vicar of the large ~Zalloon parish',of St. Denijs near Coutrais. Being guided by the wise counsels of the sain~tly dean, Frans Corselis, whose virtues he often-ext011ed, to'his novices,in later.years, Father Charles, administered the parish .@ith great success, and,the peopl~e were sorry to, see him resign his charge in.order-to enter the newly opened. Jesuit novitiate at Rumbeke. He arrived there on April 14, 1815. A hostile Dutch govei'nment drove the novice~from "this quiet retreat shortly after, but they were" given shelter by'the highly esteemed Bishop of Ghent, Maurice de Broglie, who placed his episcopal.residence at DistOlber-gen, on the outskitts of Ghent, at their disposal; and there Father Charles finished his two years 6f probation.:~He pronounced his first .vows as a Jesuit in April, A817 . ' Having read the account of .the Reductions of Paraguay, the'young Jesuit~ was eager to go to North America and de-vote his life to the conversion of- the Indians/Even as a novice he begged Father General, Thaddaeus';Brz0zoW-ski, for this~mission. Instead he was assigned~to teach othe Henry W il imering, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 92 classics in th~ academy~of Roesalare, which appointment he received with resignation to the divine will. Then, un-expectedly, he was given permission to go to America. He. lost no time in making his preparations, and during the last week of October, 1817, he set sail for the United States and arrived, in. Baltimore towards the end of December. His first year in America was spent learning English at Georgetown College. Then came the appointment as master of novices. We can imagine with what trepidation he assumed this responsible office, he who but two years before had completed his own novitiate. He realized.fully his inexperience and knew that he was better fitted to do missionary work. But once again he resigned himself to God's will and trusted that help from above would not be wanting to him. In November, 1819, the novices were moved from Georgetown to Whitemarsh, Maryland. There, in addition to being novice master, Father Charles was the superior of the community, manager of a large plantation and of the negroes who worked it, missionary to the surrounding communities, carpenter, mason and builder. He erected a handsome stone church on the no-vitiate grounds and built a brick church at Annap01is, At the latter place, he said Mass every fortnight. He was known to visit regularly the sick and poor of the vicinity and devoted considerable time to the instruction of the negroes. For a while he attended to these multiple duties alone, but later he received a faithful helper in the person of Father~ Peter Timmermans, also a Belgian, and a most amiable and humble priest. He came to America with Father Charles Nerinckx in 1817, and entered the Society of, J~sus that same year. Father Peter took charge of the novices whenever Father Charles went on. one of his many missionary expeditions. In 1821, Father Nerinckx re-turned after a second trip to Eurbpe with another group of Belgian students, seven of whom entered the Society at Whitemarsh, and were the group who migrated to Floris-sant, where they pronounced their first vows on October 10, 1823. On finishihg the novitiate, they immediately began the study of.philosophy. One of their number, Peter Ver-haegen, had nearly completed all his seminary studies at Mechlin before coming to America. Accordingly he was appointed to assist Father van Quickenborne as instructor. Due to a lack of textbooks, the course in philosophy was rather superficial and was brought to a close with a public disputation in August, 1824. Two months earlier, on Mgy 31, Father Peter Timmer-marts died. This left Father Charles as the only priest at the Florissant mission. The multiple duties he had taken upon himself at Whitemarsh were again thrust upon him. Here, ~too, he was superior of the.community, chaplain and confessor for the,Religious of the Sacred0Heart, pastor of foti~ parishes, those of Florissant, St. Charles, Dardenne and Portage des Sioux, instructor of philosophy, manager of a large farm, and buildSr:"N0 wonder that~ h~ was prostrated by repeated spells of sickness. 'Yet he never spared himself, and when duty called, he went out, no matter how bad he felt. Many urgent calls for help were sent to Rome and Maryland; yet it was only after a year and five months, when the superior was near death,~ that help came in the .person of Father Theodore de Theux. In October, 1824, the scholastics began the study, of theology. The superior .had no choice but to appoint~ Peter Verhaegen instructor of dogma, and John Elet in-, structor of Sacred Scripture, while he reserved for himself, the courses in moral and pastoral theology. Needless to say, this arrangement was very :unsatisfactory to all con-cerned. After the arrival of Father de ~heux, matters im-proved a little since he took over the courses.in dogma and scripture. The first to be ordained, early-in 1826, were John Baptist Smedts and Peter Verhaegen. The following year the superior of Maryland visited the mission, where he held a comprehensive examination of all the candidates in theology, after which the remaining four were ordained just before the Christmas: holid_ays, in 1827, by Bishop Joseph Rosati, in the church at Florissant. The last period of a Jesuit's training, the third year of probation, wa_s made by all during the first half of 1828. On the eighth.of January they began the thirty day retreat under the direction of Father van Quickenborne who, in the peculiar circumstances, was~both tertian and tertian master. The retreat closed on February 7, and a few days later each tertian was assigned to give ,a retreat, a mis-sion, or take charge of a parish for one month. On their return .to Florissant, Father, Charles explained the Con-stitutions of.the Society, commented on the decrees of gen-eral congregations, and pointed out the approved methods of giving the Spiritual Exercises. One of the tertians praised very highly the quality and practical nature of these instructions. The tertianship ended on July.31, feast of St. Ignatius Loyola. Meanwhile, their purpose in coming to the West was by no means forgotten. True, the promise to send mission-armies to the Indian country within two years could not be kept, due partially at least to the untimely death of Father Timmermans, and more particularly to the fact that no additional priests came from Europe or Ma.ryland. A be-ginning, however, was made-when in 1824 Father Charles opened a school for Indian boys and Mother Duchesne started one for Indian girls. These two schools continued for a period of nearly seven years, and the progress made Fan O.uidumborne VOLUME 20, 1'961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Henry Wilimering, SJ. R~:VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS by the pupils~in Jearning :and piety merited favorable comments from visitors and also from :the Indiafi agents. But when' the pupils ,returned.to their tr.ibes; the.y wer~e deprived of all 'spiritual help and were' exposed to the superstitions and immorality' of (heir, people, and thus~ much of the ti'ainingo received at school was lost, To forestall this~'danger, Father Charles formulated a~ plan, patterned on the famous Reductions'of. Paraguay, of establishing Catholic Indian villages. Congress would be asked to appropriate a sum that would buy six thousand acres of land on the. outskirts of an Indian' settlement. Boys who graduated from 'the Jesuit school should' marry girls trained by the nuns. These couples would be given house and farm in the proposed village. The Indian agent should furnish the agricultural implements. One or two missionaries would live in the viIlage,' and care for the spiritual needs but al'so supervise the work done. The plan was approved by the president, but not by' Congress; so it was never realized b~ Father van Quickenborne. . .The failure of the Indian schools discouraged a number of the community, but not Father van Quickenborne, nor Father de Smet, Father Charles made two exploratory visits to the Indian country, the first in 1827; the second in the following year. On these journeys he addressed a num-ber of Osage and Iowa chiefs, baptized many infants, and made inquiries about starting missions among their peo-ple. When he ~found them favorable to his plans, he promised to send them. priests in the near future. He was eager to undertake the establishment of the~first mission himself, but another event intervehed whith thr'eatehed to delay the ope_ning of a.permanent Indihn mission for several years to come. -'o. Bishop Dubourg had opened a college in St. Louis 'in 1818, which had: a~ver~ precarious existence. No sooner had the Jesuits arrived in Missouri than an offer was made to'them to staff"the college; yet, until the six schoiastics were 6rdairied, this.was out of the question: In 1826 this college held its last session. At this point Bishop gosati; who had befriended the community gt Fl'orissant' from the start, again" urged that a new college be built and managed by the Jesuits, for which purpose' he offered ~a suitable plot of ~round just outside the city;' which had been donated to the bishop by Jeremiah Connors. As soon" as Father van Quiekenborne obtained permission from Rome,~ he started :building; and even before the structure was completed,' classes opened .on' November '2, 1829~ Father Verhae~e'n was appointed the first president, who with ~two other Fathers and afew externs (aughtten~ boarders .and thirty day scholars; but~within a few weeks' gime, the boarders increased "to thirty a~id the day scholars to 6ne hundred and twenty; During th6 first two years, the courses offered were those of a grammar school: In 1830,~.a course in Latin was added, and in 1832,.one in Greek. Father van Quickenborne _taught the Latin clas.s, Father de Theux, the Greek. When,the faculty was re-inforced by several priests and sc~holastics from :.Maryland, the school _quickly reached college lev~el, and in 1832, Father Verhaegen obtained,°by special act of the.Missouri legislature, a~ charter for the school un.der the title of 'St. Louis University,' with all the rights and prerogatives of a university. According to the terms of the concordat,of 1823, the Jesuits of Florissant were entrusted with the spiritual care of all Catholic families living in ce.ntral and northeastern Missouri. In 1828, Father Verreydt °was assign~ed, to. this work, which he carried.out witti~exemplary zeal. But.~n 1.830, Father van Quickenborne was~succeeded as superior of. the Missouri mission by Father de Theux; and' for the first time Father Charles seemed free to~ carry out his favorite project, to start a permanent mission among the Indians. Instead, he was told to take over Father Verreydt's missionary work. The reason for this is given by Father Garraghan, in The Jesuits o[ the Middle West: "The truth is that ~good Father van Quickenborne,' as his .Jesuit associat_es were fond of characterizing him, was a difficult_ person with whom towork. His zeal was boundless, with much about it of the heroic; his devotion to the cause of the In_dians, unflagging; , his personal piety, obvious to all;,but along with his in certain respects surpassing equipment as a missionary went limitations of temperament that unfitted him in,many ways to work successfully by the side of others. In° the social virtues he was often d%ficient. Silent, secretive, depressed and often gloomy in countenance, with a tendency to melancholy, despising personal com-forts an.d refusing them to others, difficult and exacting in business relations, not inviting confidence and, seldom winning it, he stood in many ways isolated from his fellow workers, a somewhat lonelyfigure in tl~e little Jesuit world in which he moved.''1 So great was his desire for living with. the Indians, and so persistent his'requests to his superiors, that finally in 1836:he was permitted to open a mission among the Kicka-poo. The previous summer he had made an :exploratory~ visit to the ~various tribes living nearest~the western bor-o ders of Missouriand0had come to the conclusion that the Kickapoo were the most eager., to embrace Christianity. In the fall,.he journeyed to Washington and contacted the 3ecretary of War, Lewis Cass, who authorized himto start 1 Gilbert J~ Garr~aghan, S.J., The Jesuit~ "of the Middle Unite~l $tates (New York: Anierica Press, 1938), Vol. I, p. 384. Van ~/~,o~ VOLUME 20, 1961 95 ÷ ÷ ÷ Henry Willmering, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 96 a~school among the Kickapoo and promised a subsidy of $500 a year to maintain it. After making a begging tour the 'East, which netted about $1500, Father Charles was ready to open a mission a few miles above Fort Leaven-worth. He was assisted in this project by Father Christian Hoecken, and three lay-brothers, Andrew Mazella, Ed-mund Barry, and George Miles. The missionaries met with a cordial reception from the chiefs and people. A French trader, who lived with the tribe, put his house at their disposal, until they should build their own. Hardly had they settled down in their new quarters, when both priests were stricken with ill-ness. Father Charles had to stay in bed for a month. Worse yet, the Indian agent, Richard Cummings, would not permit' the Jesuits to build in the Kickapoo village. Not until General Clark sent word from St. Louis that permission had been given by Secretary Lewis Cass build ~a school among the Kickapoo, could the Jesuits erect a school, chapel, and residence. The head chief of the tribe, Pashishi, professed great eagerness to have the missionaries instruct the children and work for the conversion of his people. His influence, however; was considerably less than that of a notorious 'prophet,' named Kennekuk, who claimed to have received authority from the Great Spirit tostart a religion of own. For a while he manifested some interest in the teach-ings of Christianity but soon roused his followers to un-friendly demonstrations. He had so firm a hold on the minds of his people that once he took a hostile attitude toward the Jesuit missionaries, all hope of converting the tribe vanished. Two years of unremitting toil made very little impression on the Kickapoo, and neighboring tribes were so eager to have the missionaries teach their children that the former mission was abandoned and new one opened among the Pottawatomi, which proved eminently successful. But Father van Quickenborne was destined to have no part in it. His failing health and rigid disposition caused his superior to recall him in July, 1837. After a brief stay at St. Louis University, he went to Florissant to make his annual retreat. Next he proceeded to St. Charles and thence to Portage des Sioux, a village situated a few miles, north of St. Charles and near the junction of the Missouri~ and Mississippi rivers. Here he exchanged places with Father Verreydt, who went to the Indian country, while Father Charles became pastoy of this small parish. He had been only a few days in Portage when a bilious fever seized him. The last sacraments were administered to him, and on August 17, 1837, he breathed his last. His body, ac-companied by many parishioners, was interred in the cemetery in St. Charles but was later removed to the novitiate cemetery in Florissant. Father van Quickenborne was in a true sense a pioneer missionary, who labored zealously during fourteen years for the spiritual interests of both whites and Indians. Those who knew him intimately comment on his clear and orderly mind, his fluency in several languages, his accurate knowledge of theology, his eloquent discourses. He never spared himself in his efforts to assist others, and despite the rigorous attitude he at times assumed towards others, he was loved and admired by all who knew him. Since he trained the first members of the Missouri mission all by himself, he can justly be called the founder of the Jesuit establishments in the Midwest. The mission which he started became a vice-province in 1840, a province in 1863, which was divided into two provinces in 1928, and both: were again subdivided in 1955. These four provinces today have a total membership of more than 2500. They administer seven universities, ten colleges, twelve high schools, and eight retreat houses, and there are more than three hundred members in foreign mission work. John Gilmary Shea, the great historian of the North American missions, says: "To Father van Quickenborne, as founder of the vice-province of Missouri and its Indian missions, too little honor has been paid. His name is al-most unknown, ~yet few have contributed more to the edification of the white and the civilization of the red man, to the sanctification of all.''~ ~John Gilmary Shea, History o] the Catholic Missions among the Indian Tribes o] the United States, 1529-1854 (New York: Edward -Dunigan and Brother, 1855), p. 466. + + + ~'an Qugckenbome VOLUME 20, 1961 97 JOHN E. BECKER,S. J. We Have Seen His Glory: The Prologue to St. John ÷ ÷ .÷ John E. Becker, S.J., St. Mary's Colleg.e, St. Marys, Kansas, ~s an assistant editor of the REVtEW. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 98 In the beginning God created, heaven and earth In the beginning was the Word God's immense knowledge includes within itself His own infinite nature and all of the reality which He has given us and with which He surrounds us. Yet it is but one eternal and unchanging truth in God's mind. And when-ever He speaks, He speaks that one truth, Himself. But it is impossible for God to speak this immense truth, in the simple way He understands it, to our poor time-bound minds. We cannot grasp things in simplicity. We need more than to hear a truth. We need to be taught it, to have our minds brought up to it, educated to it. This is true of each of us individually. Over and over, we must be told the truths about God. We must be taught them at each point in our growth. Finally they begin to dawn for us in our minds as our own secure convictions. But the education that we as individuals go through depends upon another education which is just as impor-tant, and without which we ourselves would never have learned ab6ut God. This bther education is the education of our race, the race of men. We have learned many things about nature, but we have learned them together, the giants of the past teaching the giants of today, and they in their turn handing on their knowledge to tomorrow's giants. Our knowledge is passed on in ever-increasing rich-ness from generation to generation. Simply the mere pass-ing it on occupies many thousands of men and women for whole lifetimes as teachers, and the learning of it fills all the years of our lives, in school and out. This need man has to be educated through centuries of time is a part of him that he cannot escape. The great- est genius can only teach men what their minds have been prepared to grasp. And God, who made us this way, ~must speak to us, too, and teach us in tl~e gradual way that He has made necessary to us. So His divine revelation is a progressing and developing education of the human race. It bridges over the immense gap .between our time-bound and intricate minds and God's timeless simplicity. By His own choice He speaks eternal and immense thoughts to us in fragments communicated throughout time and space. It is a lesson in God's fatherly care for us to know that He has done it with such infinite and careful patience. How has He done it? Among a chosen people at the beginning of the story of our salvation, He planted,a seed of a thought: "In the beginning.God created heaven and earth." The thought is the thought of the one God who made all things. And these people fought and died, sub fered, rejected the truth, and repented through centuries: of history to pres.erve that seed and foster its growth. And through centuries God builds on this tiny germ of truth, constantly stretching the faith of His people by new reve-lations, always prep~aring them to accept the full flowering. of .that seed in~ the great, final revelation of Himself that will take place in the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Then, when the fullness of revelation had come down to the earth and walked it, a~s a Divine Person, God inspired St. John to begin the record of this marvelous event with a magnificent poetic vision showiiag us how God had~been patient all these years, patiently teaching, correcting; educating, stretching faith to accept this cli-mactic revelation of the immense truth about God. By beginning his gospel with the ancient words of the book of Genesis, St. John shows us that through all these cen-turies of revelation God has spoken but one sentence. And though his gospel is to be a record of new and ultimate revelations.made by Christ our Lord, still how careful St; John is to show us that each new truth that appears is really nothing new or changed about God. Rather, it is a new insight and a richer knowledge of that immense and inexhaustible reality which is the one God who begins His Sacred Scripture and who brings it to an end. In the beginning was the Wor, d And the Word was with God And He was God, this Word He was at the beginning with God How did God go about this marvelous education of the Jews? How did He prepare them, and what was it He pre- ~a~ed them to accept? We have alw~iys known that throtig~ those long years of threats and tender promises God nurs~ed in them the knowledge that He was One, the God ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to St. lohn VOLUME 20, 1961 99 + + ÷ gohn E. Becket, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]oo of all nations, the God that had no rival gods. But there: was more to His teaching about Himself than this. We had to know more than His oneness, or we could never ap-preciate the redemption by which He was to save us. We had to be able to accept the reality of Another, alsoGod, the same God, in order to recognize the infinite love that God would show in coming to be one of us. Even in the Old Testament God was preparing us to accept the su-preme mystery of the most Blessed Trinity. Over centuries of time God prepared mankind, with hints and mysterious intimations, to accept this other per-son. First, He taught His people the Law. But He taught it in such a way that it became for them, under the guid-ance of their inspired teachers, more than just a rule of life. They thought more and more of the Law as another being, ordering and governing the whole universe, some-how existing in its own right. God's inspired writers spoke too of Wisdom; and again His people, receiving with faith the guidance which God gave them through their teachers, began to think of this divine Wisdom as something distinct from God, sent by Him upon the earth: "The Lord possessed me. in the beginning of his ways. I was set up from eternity., the depths were not as yet, and I was already conceived. Wisdom is with thee, which knoweth thy works. All wisdom is from the Lord God, and hath been always with him. I came out of the mouth of the most High. From the beginning and before the world, was I created . " In two texts of Scrip-tures especially we can see how God led His inspired writ-ers toward the culminating simplicity of St. John's revela-tion of the Word: "While all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, thy almighty Word leapt down from heaven from thy royal throne, as a fierce conqueror into the midst of the land of destruc-tion. With a sharp sword carrying thy unfeigned com-mandment, and he stood and filled all things with death, and standing on the earth reached even to heaven"(Wis 18:14-16). And even closer to the full clarity of St. John was this from Isaiah: "As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and return no more thither, but soak the earth, ~tnd water it and make it to spring., so shall my Word be, which shall go forth from my mouth: it shall not return to me void, but it shall do whatsoever I please, and shall prosper in the things for which I sent it" (55:10). Our Lord's life on earth took place during an age of intense religious uncertainty and desperate religious quest. But it is strangely enough true that almost every groping philosophy of the time centered around a principle called the Word. It was almosta magic formula. To the Stoic it meant the mind of God whose strong sunlight was divided into little sparks which were the minds of individual men. To Philo, a Jewish gentile philosopher, it was a person who pervaded all God's activity, and all the creatures of God's activity. To all the philosophers it was the one principle of order in the chaQs o~f. the world.~ Of, course, the Jews knew that God had made all creation by His mere word. God's ~word had always been an infinitely powerful thing in their minds. Now when St. John calls Christ our Lord the Word, he proves the validity of God's long and careful education of the human race toward faith,in the Word of God. It is a sad and fr_ightening realization for all of us that so maony of God's,chosen race failed to respond with the faith God had so carefully prepared" them for. In a probing vision of faith, St. John realized that the pagans with their philosophies Of the Word meant, if they could but see it, Christ;. that the Jews with their devotion to the Law, to Wisdom, to God's almighty word, had been educated to know the eternal Word. Because of this deep insight of supernatural faith, the abstract, eternal, and unchanging i'eality demanded by the minds of the pagan philosophers and the concrete, changing, and temporal reality forced upon their senses were reconciled into one truth. St. John's gospel stands alone for seeing the eternity, the infinity,, the timeless immensity of God walking in the finite flesh of our Lord. The single human actions of His life are put into a story in which we can also see that these are eternal ac.tions, of eternal worth, universal and eternal in mean- .ing. All history becomes in this vision not so much a thing of time but a phase of eternity. We see through the lens of an inspired faith that human life takes place in more than material dimensions. Christ's daily life is the eternal God teaching by action the eternal truths in the tiny dimen-sions of time. Our life becomes, in spite of its abrupt be-ginning and abrupt end, an eternally rewarded effort to learn and put into practice these eternal truths. Through the lens of this vision we see that the impor-tant beginning of this history of salvation was not in time, was not on a hillside of Nazareth, Bethlehem, or Calvary. The real beginning of the life story of Christ our Lord and of the life of man in God was not His.virginal conception, nor His birth in a cave, nor His baptism at the Jordan, but eternity with God: He was in the beginning with God. Everything was made by Him, And without Him was made nothing. Even when we recognize that the beginning of our sal-vation is back in the far reaches of divine eternity, in the Word who was with God, and even when we see that God has been preparing us for centuries to accept this fact, we 4. + + Prologue to St. John VOLUME 20, 1961 10] John E. Becket, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS have yet to appreciate how intimate a part this divine Word has played in the very creation of our world, and even in the divine education which wehave received. God fixed His eye on the eternal Word as He spoke the words of creation. All God's creatures were ordered according the Word's divine ordination: All the laws of their were made on the pattern of the Word. This is much the case that when we study the divine order creation, the laws of molecular structure, of the develop-ment of phyla, its supremely rich but ordered abundance, we are studying the natural phrases and sentences of God's eternal Word. Without Him was made nothing; nothing escapes His ordering power not even the man who sins. We would think that the sinner, having deliberately stepped outside this divine order, would have lost the privilege of participating in the guidance of God. though we may sin, we cannot step aside from God. The original sin of Adam and all that sequel of human which ratifies that original disorder sewn in our nature Adam, furnishes but the occasion for the Word of God be spoken ag~iin. Through Him all 'things were made. Now, on account of sin, He is spoken in a new way that binds Him even more intimately to his now sinful crea-tion, for: That.which was made in Him was li[e, And the life was the light of men, And the light, in the shadows, shown, And the shadows did not put it out. As once all things were created by the Word, now a new thing is created in Him: That which was made in Him life. Man has sinned, and so the Word becomes the source of a new life for him: and the life was the light of men. The Word is not renewed. The old is not revived. But the Word is respoken in a new creation that more fully ex-presses it. Men find in Him now, not only the pattern their existence and their perfection, but the source of new life, a life which always existed for God, which was once given to them and lost, but which now exists again a reality for them. And the light, in the shadows, shown, and the shadows did not put it out. This new life which a light for men wins the Victory over man's darkness. We can follow th~se-threads of life, light, and darkness throughout the gospel of St. John. They are dominant colors in his message. God has'outdone His first gift us, natural created life, made by His Word, with a super-natural creation, with .a supernatural life also produced, but in His Word.~Adam's sin,made our human life shadowy life of undirected uncertainty and groping. Think of the vague yearnings of the Jewish people, and they were under the educating guidance of God; even' more, think of the pathetic religious foolishness of the pa.gan world whose nature religions could never free themselves from the orgiastic worship of the sex power. But our world, lost in the shadows of sin, is not lost to God. Rather than destroy,.it and' produce ~a n.ew, un-shadowed, sinless world through His Word, God builds a new life for us within the lost world. We live now in the Word. We find only one meaning of lile in St. John; the life of God communicated to men. Christ our Lord com-municated God's life to us by becoming one of us and remaining God. That is the story of St. John's gospel, of all the gospels. Christ assumed humanity to be able to suffer for our redemption, to be able to produce a new life for men. The flow of Divine Life which He injects into us is also, because of His teaching about God, a stream of light within us, who would otherwise be' groping in darkness toward an unknown deity. He has shown us clearly who the God is whom we must seek. And so the shadows on our uncertain consciences are dispelled, and we find ourselves on a clear road towards God, filled with confidence. Our human nature has been taken into the divinity, and God has produced for us there within Himself the new life which saves us from darkness and sin. There is no poem in English with such compleie sim-plicity of expression. Yet in these five verses we have dis-covered the whole history of God's dealings with us. They present us with an immense, vision which extends from the first moment of creation, through the Incarnation, to the end of time when men living in Christ will be gathered to Christ in the fullness of life. The whole history of our race is involved, yet we see it all from the vantage point of God'.soeternity and catch sight of what it means to call God's knowledge infinitely simple. It is all one eternal speaking of the Word by God: It first bears fruit in the creation of our material world; then in a new act of union with this world a new life is produced in it; this new life of supernatural union with God is finally to conduct us all to our final union with God in heaven for et.ernity. In this vision of faith, all history is a moment of eternity, a moment containing creation, divine union with man, and man's final reunion with God in eternity. There appeared a man sent [rom God: his name was John. He came [or a witness, to witness concerning the Light, so that all might believe through Him. He was not, this man, the Light, but [or a witness con-cerning the Light. Christ's precursor is but a man, rooted in the obvious dimensions of human time. He "is not near the stature of Christ. He happens, he appears; Christ is. He is not ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to St. ]oh.n VOLUME 20, 1961, 103 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]04 the light but only its witness. This brief, blunt, and prosaic interposition of a man within' our vision of eternity is an admonition to us, and a sign to us of the way St. John views reality. This simple prose in the midst of the poetry of eternity reminds us that we are never to let the human reality and the divine reality become separated in our minds. The life of Christ has fused the two for all eternity, and St. John is writing the story of that life. The simple historical surroundings and activities of Christ's life are making history, yet they go beyond history. The time-bound precursor of Christ is, by the decree of God, an eternally necessary, eternally important actor in God's redemptive drama. He is a sign to us that we too are eternally important, because we live with the life of the eternal Word. He was the true Light, Who enlightens every man Coming into the world. First there was God and the Word; then it is clear to us that the Word is God. The two are one. After all things are made through the Word, then supernatural Life is made in the Word, and this life is Light for men. Now again we reflect and realize that all these truths are drawn together into one truth in God. Life and Light, that which is produced in the Word, is really the Word; and the Word is God Himself, the source and goal of all our human life, natural and supernatural, the source and full enlightenment of all our knowledge, natural and su-pernatural. How does God, the Word, who is Life and Light in Himself become life and light for us? By coming into the world. We are fused with divinity when Christ takes human flesh so that the inaccessible light of eternity speaks in human words to Jews on the hillsides of Pales-tine and to all of us in the gospels; and the inaccessible life of eternity gives life to human tissues nourished from the body of Mary. And this divine-human talking and living is not over with. That once-and-for-all coming of the true Light into the world was the beginning of an unlimited number of comings. He comes now to each of us who will accept Him. He gives light, the teachings of His Church; and life, the sacramental life force which comes from His body through the ordained priesthood that He left behind Him. Light and life are in the Word because He is God; but light and life are given to man because that same Word has become man, made Himself available to man, placed Himself before us so that we may choose to unite ourselves to Him. There is no answering the question Why. We can only point to the strength of God's love. But if we ask why, we are uncovering, perhaps, false thoughts in our- selves. Have we ever realized how fully the Word had already involved Himself in the history and materiality of the world before He took this final step that brings Him visibly into the world? Why should we ask why to this last step? We should ask why'~t0 everything, not just to the Incarnation. God's eternal love has joined Himself to every moment of the world's existence. The Incarnation was simply the climax: In the world He was, And the world was made by Him And the world did not recognize Him Into His own He came And His own did not receive Him In the world He was from the first moment giving that moment and every succeeding moment its reality. The steady and balanced revolution of spinning worlds, and the quiet and inexorable change of seasons from death to life 'and.back to death and another life are His work and His teaching. He is the concurrent force, giving foufida-tion to the thoughts of the earliest'men and effectiveness to all their desires, holy or perverse. But the forceful message of all this rich physical reality is not heard. Though anything, simply because it exists, speaks of, the presence of God the creator, the fa~t Of creation failed to penetrate the darkness of immorality and sin that kept men "from recognizing the world as the words of God's eternal Word. God's Word speaks in a new way, trying by a new means to attract man's wayward attention. He chooses a man, Abraham, and tells the man he will beget a people. The Jewish race is born, and becomes God's own: I will be your God and you will be my people. And as this people grows through crisis, sin, and exile, the Word of God con-tinues to speak to them, residing in their Holy .of Holies, dictating their Law, guiding their history, inspiring the poetry of their kings and prophets. But all of it leads over and over again to relapses into idolatry and paganism, into infidelity and' hardness of heart, and finally into the degenerate Pharisaism that will not accept Him no matter what means He takes to speak to them: Into His own He came and His own did not receive Him. But all those who received Him He gave them power to become children o[ God, To those who believe in His name He who neither oI blood, nor (o[ a desire) o] the l~esh, (nor ot a desire ot man), But of God was generated. Not all o~ His own rejected Him, and between those who did and those who did not, a new dividing line is ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to VOLUME 20, 1961 105 gohn E. Becket, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS drawn. Once "it had been drawn by God between the Jew and" the idolatrous gentile. Gradually it shifted, so that it divided the Jews themselves. Only a faithful remnant was loyal to God and would receive the benefits of the Mes-sianic kingdom; the rest were Jews in blood and name only, This division started to break up the Jewish world even before the actual coining of Christ in human form. But this breakdown of Jewish unity was turned to,our good by God. it was the way God purged His revelation of Jewish nationalism, and it became the foundation for a new way of thinking among .those.Jews who accepted Christ. God's careful, educating hand was still at work, showing them that no longer was it important to be a Jew. Now all that is important is to accept Christ. For all who receive Him are God's people; Jews and gentiles become one people when they become Christians. Everyone who bears the human nature tbat Christ assumed~may now re-ceive life from Him. And receiving our life from God means becoming God's children. There is a difference, though, in our being tbe children of God and the children of h.uman parents. We received the life of our parents all unconscious of the gift. Christians, .even though they receive Baptism as infants, must eventually assent to their divine childhood consciously and willingly by ac-cepting the W~rd, Christ our Lord. It is one more proof of God's infinite wisdom that He need not interfere here with the nature He has created in us when He gives us new life. Rather tban rebuild our nature so that they l.ive automatically with divine life, He stands by His own primeval decision to leave us free. We may live a hum;in life that is dead to God. Or we may accept God's~offer; we may choose to receive Christ and become the .cbildren of God. Still, though He, has not remolded nature, Hhat He ¯ has dgne is miracle enough. To be God's child means to live with the life of God, just as to,be a h~uman child means to live with the human life of our parents. When We choose to accept Christ, by that very fact we make oui'- selves one with Him. One with Him, grafted on to Him, we live with His life. His life is the life of a Son; and so we, united to Him and living His life, live the life of sons, the life which, the only-begotten Son has received from His Father. Christ is so perfectly God's Son as to be God: I am in the Father and the Father is in me. United to the Son of God in a real oneness of life, we too are made sons. Our divine childhood is not a childhood of the flesh, be-cause Christ's sonship is not a sonship of the flesh. He who gives us power to become the children of God is He,who, neither of blood, nor o~ a desire of the flesh, nor of a de-sire of man, but of God is generated. Our own fathers, in a single moment, by the act of married love which gen-erates us, are only at that moment acting upon us with a real activity which is properly fatherhood. The action is over in a moment. ~But Christ, the. Son of God, is being eternally generated of God'. Our mothers beai" us in their bodies for nine months during which their bodies are ceaselessly active nourishing and protecting our growth. Btit even in that time of intimate and complete depend-ence we are separated from them. Physically our mother surrounds,fis. But she is not us. And her physical mother- ~hood is soon over. But Christ, the Son Of God, is so inti-mately one with God that together they are but one God; and the action of giving and receiving divine life between the Father and the Son never ceases to be a dynamic and intense activity. Christ is always the Son of the Father, not because the Father once launched Him forth into sep-arated existence, but because He is always being gen-erated by the Father and never is separated from Him. All fatherhood on earth is named fatherhood after this eternal fathering forth o~ the Son by His divine Father. Earthly fatherhood, momentary and fleeting, is its weak reflection. And just as Christ the Son of God is the eternal recipient of divine life, we, because we are grafted onto His life, are eternal recipients of divine life. By a ceaseless activity that never leaves us to separate and independent existence we are God's sons--unless we break the bond that seals us to Christ. But in knowing all this we know only the beginning. There is greater depth to the divine sonship still. Christ is the Word of God, as well as His Son. To find out what this implies about His sonship, we submit ourselves to the careful teaching of God again, through His inspired representative, St. John, who named Christ the"Word. A word is the product of a mind. And the mind is spirit. We must free our idea of fatherhood, then, from the fleshly concepts that could obscure it when we apply it to God. God's eternal wisdom is in the, Father as in an eternal mind. But it is in the Son as a thought contained in a word. But, like human fatherhood, human words are momentary, vibrations of sound or mental flashes.of un-derstanding. Christ, however, is not a momentary flash of God's knowledge. He is the eternal container of the thought of God, the eternal expression of the mind of the Father. And so eternal generation is more like the eternal production of an eternal word which contains all the divine and infinite nature of God. Christ's sonship is a spiritual sonship like that which exists between a word that perfectly expresses a mind and that needs no flesh to be real. It is no wonder, then, that Christ's sonship of the Blessed Virgin Mary~ though it is a sonship by which He derives His flesh fro,n her Prologue to St. John VOkUME 20, 1961 107 ./ohn E. Be~/~, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]08 body, should be a virginal sonship, free of the desires the flesh. Christ's infinite spiritual generation in heaven expressed in his virginal generation on earth. We are once more witnesses to the imprint of eternity on the events of time which characterizes the plan of our salvation. This second vision of faith, which St. John has projected in verses six to thirteen, has carried us again into the depths of eternity. This time it shows us that before we received the s0nship of the Word as our own life, we had been prepared by the very presence of this Word in the Law and the poetry of the Old Testament. Even before these things there was the presence of the Word in creation itself, though men failed to see Him there. Finally, before all the activity of the Son in the creation of the world and its redemption, was His eternal conception in the mind the Father as an eternal Word who contains all the divinity of the Father. And all that has happened in time, from the creation to the present moment, are but different ways in which God speaks His eternal Word to us, ways which develop and move forward with the growth of our power to appreciate God in ever clearer and more explicit realiza-tions until the ultimate climax when God no longer con-fines Himself to forming the universe through His Word, but clothes His Word in the very material of the uni-verse: And so the Word became [tesh And He made His home among us And we have seen His Glory Glory belonging to the only Son (coming) from the Father, .Full o[ grace and truth. God, in this last speaking of His Word has destroyed the distances between us. There is more, now, than com-munication between us. There is intimacy. The infinitely self-contained and perfect divinity projected the world and mingled with it to preserve its being. He intruded into world history to choose a people. With the Jews God took up His residence. He pitched His tent among them, as they delight to say over and over in their songs of praise to Him. His unseen glory was present in the ark. This was part of the covenant He made with them after He guided them by day and night from Egypt to the promised land in a pillar of cloud and a pillar of fire. At the dedication of their great Temple, God's glory filled the Holy Holies. But now this eternal ,Word, who sought out Abra-ham and made His promises to him, who spoke in the Law and the Prophets, in poets, historians, and storytellers of the Old Testament, is no longer satisfied to speak through others. He speaks in His own Person. All the di-vinity of the Word which had manifested itself in these ways through centuries, now resides in this human flesh, not as a mere inhabitant, but as one person with it. The body of Christ is God's new home among men. That unspeakable glory of God which filled the Holy of Holies fills now the flesh of a man and makes it the flesh of. the Son of God. And the invisible glory of the only-begotten Son, when it comes from the Father into human flesh, is no longer invisible, but seen, Men have seen His glory. We might expect glory to be a word connected with the miracle of the transfiguration which took place before St.John's eyes on Mount Tabor. But whenever we find St. John using this word, we find the passion and death of our Lord: "The time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" (12:~3). When Judas leaves the supper to betray our Lord, He says, "Now the Son of Man has been glori-fied, and God has been glorified, through him, and God will through himself glorify him; he will glorify him immediately" (13:31-32). And in His last discourse to His disciples our Lord says: "Father, glorify your son that your son may glori.~y you (17:2). I have glorified you here on earth, by completing the work which you gave me to do. Now, Father, glorify me in your presence as I had done me there before the world existed (17:5). I have given them the glory that you gave me, so that they may be one just as we are, I in union with them and you with me, so that they may be perfectly unified, and the world may recognize that you sent me and that you love them just as 'you loved me. Father, I wish to have those whom you have given me with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me, for you loved me before the cre-ation of the world" (17:22-2'1). The glory that is His Fa-ther's love for Him becomes the glory of the love of the Father and the Son for us when Christ suffers for us to make us God's sons. Passion and death are things that would have been impossible to God unless He had taken upon Himself a human nature. But when it is done, we see a new and startling vision of the glory of God, a new vision which is a paradox; the invisible'and awesome glory that filled the Holy of Holies is brightened to a climax at the time of God's suffering and at the moment of His death. If there is paradox here, there must also be meaning. Paradox is a challenge to our deeper thought. If passion and death are the climax of God's glory, its fullest ex-pression, what can God's glory be or mean? There is cre-ation. When we think of its immensity, the hugeness of the forces unleashed in the exploding universe, we catch our breath and lose track of our mathematical securities. But this is not a full picture of God's glory. It is only a first, rough sketch. When we think of the delicacy of craftmanship that enabled a tiny planet to nurture life, Prologue to St. John VOLUME 20, 1961 109 ÷ ÷ ÷ $ohn E. Becke~, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1]0 we may melt at the tenderness that reigns in a theatre of such violent forces, but we know again that it is not the full expression of God's glory. There is the Old Law when this all-powerful and tender God chooses to interfere in our pitiful history, chooses a nomad tribe and guides its destiny through hundreds of years of war and infidelity so that a few men at least will know that He is the God who is, in spite of their stubbornness and disinterest. This infinite humility of the omnipotent God, who cares that man's blindness be cured, speaks more clearly of God's glory but still falls, short of it. What is amazing is that none of this turns out to be any hint a.t all of what the full revelation of God's glory will be. How could we have guessed that the full burst of it would be a criminal execution on a Judean hill? Yet just this fiaeek submission to suffering and this most shameful of all deaths is the climax and full unveiling of the glory of God. God's glory is supremely expressed in His choice to suffer and die, to do those things which are the deepest badge of our sinful and fallen nature. The glory which Christ, the eternal Word, had before all ,time in the bosom of His Father is that extremity of love which leads Him to take up the nature of His sinful creature, suffer for him, and lay, down that life which, because it is the perfect ex-pression of the union of God with us, is the supreme gift which He can give to redeem us. And this glory of God, God's passion, is not for our contemplation alone, or for our deepest meditation. "If I be lifted up, I will draw all men to myself." It is magnetic force, :a force for union. We are drawn to Him, and all of us become one in. Him as the Father in Him and He in the Father. To a certain extent we are here meditating on poetry. In the context of our lives, however, it is more. It is an appeal to us to recognize the unity that exists now between time and eternity, space and divine im-mensity, and especially b.etween Christian and Christian. Little children love one another. We read here truth after truth, and they are many truths. But each separate truth, as it is presented to us, is set back into a mysterious and all embracing unity in God: The Word appears, but He is with God;° He is God. Creation emei'ges, through the Word; but then begins its long and relentless motion back towards God. Why this great return? Because the Word, who is one with God, has come forth from God and joined creation to Himself, pervading it by creative activ-ity, coming unto His own in word' and then in person, producing within Himself a new life for the created world to live in Him, making men God's sons and drawing them all and the creation that is theirs back to the bosom of His Father with whom He is but one. We, of course, must put ourselves back into this marvelous current o,f the life of God which is flowing back to Him. It cannot be ours unless we receive Him, and we can refuse Him. But if we are drawn to Him in the glory'of His Cross as it is renewed every morning at Mass, we will accept Him into our bodies in t~e sacrament of the Eucharist. We become, ourselves the dwelling place of the glory of God;. for we are the dwelling place of the flesh of Christ. All of us, marching back through time to happiness in eternity, become one in this divine life which nourishes us all. The glory of God walks about on the streets. It is in us and about us, We are His holy people united to Him and to each other in the reception of His body, all making up with Him but one body. Our temporal actions, walking the asphalt streets of our own moment of history, are eternal actions; our limited circle of friends and acquaintances is stretched to include all men, and they are all the focal point in time of our eternal love for Christ, because He is in them all. We se~ ii ~veryday in all meri, the glory o[ the onl~-b,e~g'ot~en Son of God, full of grace and truth. Prologue to $L loh~ VOLUME 20, 1961 111 COLUMBAN BROWNING, C.P. Martyrdom and the Religious Life The Reverend Colum-ban Browning, a fre~ quent contributor to the l~viEw, is sta-tioned at Saint Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd St., Des Moines 11, Iowa. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 112 Our twentieth century world prides itself on being mod-ern. And to the residents of our twentieth century, mod-ern implies everything that reflects the progress of this century. Efficiency, freshness of ideas, technological ad-vance- such things as these come to mind when we think of the word modern. Even twentieth century religious pride themselves as being modern in the best sense of the word. Since Pius XII inaugurated the movement toward adaptation to the needs of the times, the religious of today cannot avoid being modern unless he wishes to be branded with the stigma of retrogression. The response to the plea of Plus XII al-ready realized gives sufficient proof of the importance of making full use of all that is good in the progress of our age for the glory of God. But we religious can become so absorbed in our mod-ernity that we may forget that the motivation for the re-ligious life must always be the same and that it comes from the time of Christ Himself. This is why Plus always stressed renovation along with adaptation. While the approach may vary with the changing times, the mo-tivation is unchangeable. And for this motivation we must return repeatedly to the very sources of Christianity. The sources of Christianity are found primarily in the life and teaching of our Lord, a teaching enshrined in the Church that He founded. But also in the application of Christ's teaching in the early Church is found a very real source at which to learn the spirit of Christ in action. In those early days when the spirit of Christ was in the fresh-ness of its youth, we can find ideas to help us in our day to be better followers of Christ. One such idea that can be especially fruitful to this end is found in the historical fact that the religious life evolved in the Church as a sub-stitute for martyrdom. 1. Martyrdom and Christian Per[ection Martyrdom became a practical necessity in the early days of the Church. The infant Church soon came face to face with the persecution for~t,o, ld by Christ. Espec!ally in the Roman world did this 15ersec'u~ion reach the' pitch of fury. Beginning with the Emperor Nero in the first century and continuing for two and a half centuries, it was con-sidered unlawful to be a Christian. One who professed the faith of Christ, if detected, was given the alternatives" of apostasy or death. The story of the heroic courage with which so many thousands stood firm in the face of death is too familiar to retell. The resemblance of the death of the martyrs to that of Christ was evident to the early Christians. Just as Christ died a violent death in testimony to the truth, so also did the martyr. It is but natural, then, that martyrdom was seen as a dying with Christ. Just as logically, the martyr was considered the perfect imitator of Christ or the per-fect exemplificatibn of' Christian perfection. It is not sur-prising, therefor-e, that'we find the pastor~ and writers of those times exhorting the Christians to martyrdom as the means to perfect union with Christ. One need only study the example and the writings of St. Ignatius of Antioch to see how firmly rooted this thought was in the early Christian mind. During the reign of Trajan, this great Bishop was sentenced to death and sent to Rome to be thrown to the beasts. During his journey to Rome as a prisoner he wrote seven letter~ to the churches of the territories through which he passed. These letters reflect the burning desire of his soul to be perfectly united to Christ by martyrdom. His sentiments are most forcefully expressed in his letter to the Romans in which he writes as follows~ I am writing to all the Churches and state emphatically to all that I die willingly for God, provided you do not interfere. I beg you, do not show me unreasonable kindness. Suffer me to be the food of wild beasts, which are the means of making my way to God. God's wheat I am, and by the teeth of wild beasts I am to be ground that I may prove Christ's bread. Better still, coax the wild beasts to become my tomb and leave no part of my person behind;once I have fallen asleep I do not wish to be a burden to anyone. Then only shall I be a genuine disciple of Jesus Christ when the world will not even see my body . Forgive me, brethren; do not obstruct my coming to life-- do not wish me to die; do not make a gift to the world of one who wants to be God's. Beware of seducing me with matter; suffer me to receive pure light. Once arrived there, I shall be.a man. Permit me to be an imitator of my suffering God. Since martyrdom and perfect union with Christ meant one and the same thing, life itself was looked upon as a preparation for martyrdom. All asceticism was considered from this point of view. It was by dying to one's passions ÷ ÷ ÷ Martyrdom and Religious Li]e VOLUME 20, 1961 llS ,4, ÷ ÷ Columban Browning, C.I'. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 114 that one most resembled the martyrs and best prepared oneself for the supreme challenge. Origen expressed this in these words: "Those who have prepared themselves for martyrdom can even already be called martyrs, even though they may never undergo it." Time came when the pcrsecutions diminished and fi-nally ceased wi~h the Edict of Milan in 313 A.D. With tffe ,essation of persecntion actual martyrdom was no longer a possibility, but the ideal of martyrdom remained alive in the minds of the faithful. Since martyrdom by blood was no longer possible, a new emphasis was placed on asceti-cism which was looked upon as a martyrdom without blood. Martyrdom was still considered the ideal of per-fection; and those who most reSembled the martyrs by death to self, or ascesis, were considered the most perfect. II. Martyrdom and Virginity Among the practices of asceticism, that of ~irginit'y was held in an especial high esteem. The practice of virginity had been a high ideal and ~vas actually practiced from the beginning in imitation of our Lord and His Blessed Mother. But when persecution ceased, virginity received a new status as one of the foremost means of dying a .rnartyr's death without the shedding of blood. The virgin was con-sidered as wedded to Christ by a mystical marriage through grace. By complete death to the urgings of the body, the virgin, like the martyr, achieved a complete surrender to Christ, died with Him and became a perfect imitator of Him. St. Jerome expressing this thought said: "Virginity is a holocaust to God. Complete chastity is a victim to Christ." Thus, the white martyrdom of virginity, by a process of evolution conditioned by history, succeeded to martyrdom by blood as the equivalent of Christian per-fection. Living a virginal life in the midst of a wo}ld that still contained much of the pagan spirit obviously had its difficulties. As something of a moral necessity, therefore, those consecrated to God by the vow of virginity began to, band.together for mutual support. ~They often lived in common, prayed together and by mutual encouragement helped each other to their common g0al of perfect union with Christ. In this practice we have a foreshadowing and a natural preparation for the religious life. III. Martyrdom, Virginity and the R.eligious Lile The ground had been prepared for the birth of monaS-ticism, or organized religious life. Toward the end of the third century whefi the persecutions were beginning to lose some of their force, the practice of the eremitical life began in Egypt. In the year 320 (only seven years after the Edict of Milan), St. Pachomius founded the first monastery of the common,life, Some forty years later S.t.,Basil estab-lished the same form of life in the Eastern Church. With the virginal spirit already so high in honor and with so. many in fact already living the~eremitical life, it is not surprising that th.ese :m0~n.aster.ies flourishe~l.;Those. who desired perfect union with Christ and for whom martyrdom was,no 19nger possible flocked to these monas-teries. T~here, united in pra~er, these generous men and women were able to find a kind of native atmosphere in which to realize their ambition of perfect union with Christ by the "living martyrdom,' of the religious life. With the origin of monasticism there began a new epoch of Christian history, one that is still unfolding today. This is the history of the religious life. From one or two monas-teries, the fire of zeal that started them spread until it gradually covered the entire world. The organized life of consecration to God has gone through many stages of evolution, all of them prompted by the changing events of history. All through the ages the religious life has been adapting itself to the needs of the times until we find the greater percentage of religious today extremely active, whereas the religious of those early days were largely con-templative. But the religious of today are nonetheless branches of the same tree and the essential motivation of the religious life remains the same. IV. Practical Application Plus XII frequently urged religious to return to the sources of their life. Along with adaptation to modern needs, he stressed with equal insistence the need for renovation. The Holy Father realized that it is only when the spirit of zeal and fervor is pregerved and deepened that we can safely and sanely adapt, bringing the best effort to bear on the needs of the times. In striving to achieve this purpose, the religious of today would do well to endeavour to capture the spirit in which the religious life was founded. When we see the religious life as an outgrowth of and a s,bstitute for martyrdom, what a difference it can make in one's approach to the religious life. One sees clearly that the goal of religious living is perfect conformity to Christ, a wholehearted dying to self and complete living with and for Christ. The sacrifices inherent in the religious vows, resistance of the spirit of the modern world, the pressures and frustrations of daily activity in the life of the modern religious--all will be seen in a new.light when one realizes that these are but aspects of that death with Christ which leads to union with Him. It is by these daily sacrifices that the religious of our day are called to the same con-formity with Christ that was the goal of the martyrs. ÷ ÷ Martyrdom, and Religious Liye VOLUME 20, 1961 Lack of Sufficient motivation is ordinarily one of the greatest hindrances to the progress of a religious. It may help religious to ponder the fact that the vocation of the religious is essentially the same as that of the martyrs. The manner of realization may differ according to circum-stances. But the goal is identical--the wholehearted giving of self to Christ, dying with Him in order to live with Him. ÷ ÷ ÷ Coluraban Browning, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS llfi PAX The Call of God There have always b'een, and.always will be, voclttions. One has only to run through the pages 6f both Old and New Testaments to see that Goff has always called souls to consecrate themselves to Him or to serve Him or to come.back to Him. The call of God's mercy, for it is always that, may be heard at any time and in the most unexpected places, as witness the parable of the prodigal son, who was called to mercy in a pigsty. God is of an infinite adaptabilityl From the beginning of Genesis, We find God calling Adam and Eve back after their fall. Truly God's ways do not change, for His "I came to seek and to save that which is lost" is true from the beginning. So, t0b, God calls Cain after hig murder of Abel tO give him a spark of hope even in his punishment. Noah is called with all his family and is set apart by God for His service and his own salvation. But the first spectacular vocation in the Old Tegtament is that of Abraham. Leave thy country,, thy~kinsfolk And thy father's house, And come away into a land That I shall show thee. Here is the usual conception of a vocation, the leaving of all for God; and already there is the promise of what might be called a millionfoldl "I will bless thee and make thy name renowned., and in thee shall all the races of the world find a blessing." Abraham's might be ~alled a late vocation, for he was seventy-five years old when it came! His wife and his ,~ephew were called to accompany him, and God con- ~tantly encouraged him: "Have no fear. I am here. thy reward will be great ind~edl" St: Ambrose remarks that ,t is the privilege of the saints to receive a new name from God. God changed Abram's~:name to Abraham; and his wife's to one meaning "The Princess." She too was blessed, ,vho had been sterile, and bore Isaac~"the son of laugh-oero" + Pax is the nora de plume of a cloistered Benedictine nun whose monastery is located in Belgium. ~VOLUME 20, 1961 11~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 118 Vocations bring suffering, as Abraham discovered by the terrible test of his f.aith, when God bade him offer up Isaac in sacrifice. But God stayed that obedient hand at the last minute saying, "Abraham, Abraham, for my sake tfiou wast willing to give up thine only son." It is as if God is in ad~niration of this. sturdy faith of Abraham's, just as Jesus later was when faced with the dauntless faith of a woman, "Womfin, great is thy faith! . Thine only son," cries God; and in promising Abraham the reward of a countless posterity, through which all nations should be blessed, God is promising him no less than His own Son, who would save us all. We see the parallel with this situation in the words of St. John: "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son." God's love for Abraham and Sarah did not prevent His care for their bondmaid, Agar. Sh6 too is called and consoled in the desert by the finding of water .for her dying child and the promise of a wonderful future for him. It is no wonder then, that Abraham died contented. He had spent a hun drdd years in the service of God, and God had blessed him in all his doings. "God," a slnall boy onc~e remarked, "has some very funn) friends.", Jacob is,perhaps one of these, for in spite of St A_ugustine's lenient "not a lie, but a mystery," he appear., as "a t3vister"; but God who be.holds the heart saw hi., capacity for tenacious fidelity.and love. All God's dealing., with him are mysterious. Perhaps-He saw in Jacob, whc had, to put it politely, borrowed his brother's name, birth right, and blessing, the figure, o~. us all, of all mankind who would shelter:behind the name of His first-born Son Jesus, and in that Name and disguise, steal His blessin~ and the right of inheriting the Kingdom of Heaven. Nora of us can, then, throw stones at Jacob! He was called by God, in his sleep, from a ladder reach ing from heaven to earth, the passageway of countl~'s. angels (a ladder which has greatly intrigued the saints ant the fathers of the Church) with a free promise, with n( conditions! "I am the Lord, the God of thy father Abra ham, the God of Isaac, and tl~is ground on which thor sleepest is my gift to thee and thy posterity. Thy race shal be as countless as the dust., thou shalt overflow th, frontiers, till all the families of the earth find a blessing i~ thee and this race of thine. I myself will watch over the~ ¯. all My promises shall be. fulfilled." What a wonderfifl vocation Moses, the great contempla rive, had! From babyhood God endowed him with sucl grace and charm that he es~]ap.ed~death when Pharoa! killed the baby boys.o~ Israel. He, was saved by the ruler' daughter, who hired his, own.mother to nurse him. Got watched over him till the day when in the desert He caller him from out the burning bush. God often calls contem platives in the desert, for as St. Ambrose says: "The food of heavenly grace is given, not to the idle, not in the city . nor to those accustomed to worldly things, but to those of the kingdom of God." It needs contemplative eyes to see a bush aflame with God and ac0ritemplative tieart' to hear God's calling from so lowly a setting. How beautiful a name becomes when God pronounces it! "M6ses, Moses!" called ~God. "Moses" means "a rescuer," a saviour. Every contemplative is a rescuer of souls. Moses at once entered into the deep mysteries of God. "Take off thy shoes, for thou standest on holy ground. I am the God thy father worshiped, the God of Abraham, of Isaac and of Jacob. Up! Thou art to lead My.people out of Egypt." Moses is reluctant to accept this errand. His hu-mility tries to escape, from such high honors. Contem-platives often are tempted to wonder if their vocation is not presumption. Other people seem so much holier and more fitted for God's great designs. Moses is, like most con-templatives, a strange mixture of. timidity and audacity. God truly has ~strange ways of choosing His tools, of picking His elect! "Who am I, and Who art Thou, O my God?" cry the saints. "I'm not at all the person Thou needest"; and in the same breath, as it he hadn't listened to God's introduction, "Who art Thou?" Blessed humility, and blessed audacity of Moses, since! they gave us the splendid name God, "I am the God who is." Besides this amazing condescension of God to Moses, God gives His chosen one the gift of miracles to help him in his mission. But Moses in his modesty persists in pro-testing his incapacity for his vocation. He pleads his love of silence, his lack of facile speech. Contemplatives are often painfully aware of how inarticulate they are, how ineloquent when talking of what surpasses speech. The ~aints are sometimes regarded as fools by reason of this tongue-tiedness of theirs. Moses' vocation is fairly typical of God's call to con-templatives. He often accords them, at the beginning, a ~oretaste of "what eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor ,ath it entered into the heart of man to conceive." He puts heart into them; perhaps otherwise they would lever have the courage for the long march through the .vilderness that will inevitably lie before them. God brushes away Moses' doubts and fears and gives tim a spokesman in Aaron, whom Fie calls to the priest- ,ood, to the preaching of His message and to obedience. 'Aaron will receive my commandments from thee, and re- ,eat them . " And despite the desert, they could scarcely loubt God's abiding presence with them on the way since -Ie made it clear in their darkest nights by the column of ÷ ÷ ÷ The Call o] God VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS fire and the very cloud showed Him. there by day, to say nothing of His extraordinary care for them, so that neither shoes nor clothing woreout, and bread was sent them from Heaven. "Nothing lacks to those who love God." Most contemplatives can vouch for this amazing care of their heavenly Father at all times. An odd vocation is that of the soothsayer Balaam, whom God served in his own coin, so to speak, and led by con-tradictionsl He is like the sort of dirig6 who makes clear to his director along what lines he expects to be directed, in the way of his, own choosingl Balaam almost obliges God to let him have his own way, and God uses it to humble him mightily, by letting his donkey know His will for Balaam, and furthermore announce it, backed up by an angel! For this honor the poor ass paid dearly. One might note in passing that God seems by the witness of both Testaments to have a weakness for asses, human and otherwisel That is, if we dare use a human expression and talk of the "weakness" of God, as St. Augustine dare., do, of Him who is the Strength of the Strongl "Why hast thou thrice beaten thine ass?" asks Godk, angel. "I came to intercept thee, because this errand ot thine is headstrong and defies my will. If the ass had not turned aside. I should have taken thy life and spared hers." "I will go home again," decides Balaam. "No," say., God through His angel. "Go, but be sure thou utterest nc word, save what I bid thee." Magnificently, too, Balaam does that, to Balac's indignation; and despite his efforts a! bribery, Balaam blesses, instead of cursing, Israeli "Son, of Israel, countless as the dust, race of Jacob past al numbering, may death find me faithful as these, and be m) end like theirs." The grace of God suddenly floods him, as it has a way ot doing when we are obedient. "My errand is to bless," h( cries. Headstrong Balaam then humbly confesses tha "from being blindfold, he saw, heard the speech of Goc most high, had a vision of Him, and learned to see right.' This passage recalls that in the New Testament of th( blind man of Bethsaida, who was also" slow at learning t( see, who also had a vision of God, and at His touch learnec to see rightl Children are called, too, by God. Samuel was choser before he was conceived in his mother's womb. He was th~ fruit of the long suffering and many tears of his steril mother, blessed by Hell, the priest, to whom she declare( her vow of offering him to God "all his life long." Sh. brought him to the temple as soon as he was weaned and "evermore the boy, Samuel, rose higher in God' favour," One night, while he was "sleeping in the divin~ presence where God's ark was," he thought he heard Hel calling him and ran to him with charming obedience sa.) ing, "Here I am!" Heli sent him back to bed three times, then realized that God had called the little boy. He told him that if God called again, he must say, "Speak on, Lord, thy servant is listening." How lovely the account of Godls coming ag~iin in Holy Writ. "The Lord came to his side and stood there waiting." So often He does, and waits so long, so patiently before we Samuels recognize His voicel It was a fearful message for a little boy to have to deliver to Heli; but Heli, hearing it, made the admirable answer, "It is the Lord. let Him do His will." Saul and David both had kingly vocations; the first failed, as alas, vocations sometimes do. The second bore the hundredfold of fruitfulness. Both were rooted in humility, for neither seemed at all likely to become king. Saul scarcely expected to be called by God to royal honors and duties when he set out to hunt for his father's lost donkeys, any more than the little boy David expected to be king when he was shepherding his father's sheep. David kept his humility and so God exalted him; Saul lost his, and by disobedience fell from God's favour. Both fell, but David speedily confessed his sin. As St. Ambrose says: "He sinned as kings often do, but he did penance, he groaned, he wept, as kings are not wont to do. He con-fessed his fault, he sought for pardon., he wept over his misery, he fasted, he prayed, and publishing his grief abroad, he left a witness of his confession to all poster-ity,. To fall into sin comes from the weakness of nature. To confess the sin comes from virtue." '"l~he Lord loves obedience better than sacrifice," Saul was told. Disobedi-ence is revolting against God, and almost inevitably pre-pares the loss of a vocation. We have seen a few of the calls of God in the Old Testament; what shall we say of the vocations in the New Testament? St. John the Baptist links, as it were, the two Testaments; and the Church applies to his voca-tion the magnificent passage from .Jeremiah, whom God told: "I claimed thee for my own, before ever I fashioned thee in thy mother's womb. I set thee apart for myself." Each New Testament vocation is splendid in its simplic-ity. Jesus captivates hearts by a look, a word, a smile, or simply by His presence. St. Augustine has a delightful description of the beginning of St. Andrew's vocation. "They wished to see where He dwelt., to be instructed in His precepts. He showed them where He dwelt. They came and were with Him. What a blessed day they spentl What a blessed night. Who is there who can tell what they heard from the Lord? Let us, too, build in our heart and make a house, whither He may come and teach us, and talk with us." The Bible account itself relates best the story of all the The Call o] God VOLUME 20, 1'961 ~2! 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS splendid New Testament vocations; of our Blessed Lady, of St. Joseph, of.~St. Pe.ter, St. John and the rest of the disciples. How many others there are of which we would gladly learn more, like that of the little boy who gave his bread and fishes to feed 'the multitude, or of Jairus' twelve-year-old daughter, who heard Jesus' Talitha cumi, "Little maid, arise." Who could doubt that she followed, seeking Him as eagerly as the bride in the Canticle of Can-ticles? There are vocations of ad~nirable people like St. Luke, the doctor, of St. Paul, the fiery zealot; of businessmen like St. Matthew; of thieves like Dismas, who stole heaven; of sinners like St. Mary Magdalene or St. Photina, who at Jacob's well, drew forth such streams of living water from the Sacred Heart! And that of Zacheusl When he could see nothing, he climbed a sycamore and saw the Lord passing by. Now the sycamore is sometimes called "a foolish fig tree." Little Zacheus, then, climbed the sycamore and saw the Lord. Thus they who in humility choose the things that the world deems foolish have a keen insight into the wisdom of God Himself. The crowd prevents us from seeing the Lord because the tumult of worldly cares oppresses the human mind and keeps its gaze from the light of Truth. We climb a sycamore when we attend to the "foolishness" (as the world deems it) of God's commandments, refraining from recovering What, is taken from us, yielding our goods to robbers, never inflict-ing injury for injury and bearing all with patience. The Lord bids us "climb a sycamore" when He says, "If one strikes thee on the cheek, turn to him also the other." Through such wise folly, we may see the Lord, and in contemplation catch a glimpse of the wisdom of God. So says St. Gregory the Great. "No one," says St. Ambrose, "can easily see Jesus, if he stay on the ground! One must climb above one's former faults, and trample on one's vanity. So it was that Zacheus came to receive .|esns as a guest in his house. And rightly did he climb a tree." St: Bede says that Zacheus, to see the Lord, had to abandon earthly cares and climb the tree of the cross, embracing thus the."folly" of Christ. St. Maximus has an entertaining sort of spiritual ledger account of the hardheaded businessman Zacheus' conver-sion. "Za.cheus," he says, "opened the gate of heaven to the rich by showing them how to buy heaven through the very means that once kept them out of heaven--namely, their possessions! He bestowed a treasure on them which would enable them to be rich for all eternity; he truly made a good bargain by showing them how to dispense their riches to the poor and so be eternally rich." Zacheus heard and answered our Lord's call with jo'y, unlike the other rich man who went away sorrowful "because he had great possessions." What shall we say of all the other humble and anony-mous vocations of the New Testament, of a deaf and dumb man, of how many blind, and lame~ and dead? Like all these, if we are very little in our own eyes, we act as a magnd~ for the love-of God'and for the grace of His turning to look on us and to say, "Come and seel" Better: still, like Zacheus,: we m.ayhear Him say, "Today I must dine in thy house-." Besi~ of all, we may hear Jesus' promise, "If a man has any love for me, he will be true to my wor~.l; and then he?will win my Father's love, and we will both come to hin~, and make our continual abode with himl" ÷ + The Call o] God 123 SISTER MARY JANET, S.C.L. ¯ Proposal for Small Missions: Taped Conferences ÷ Sister Mary Janet, S.C.L. is stationed at Saint Mary College in Xavier, Kansas, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This is simply an idea. It concerns a possible spiritual service that the priest and the religious community in with a modern gadget might offer sisters living small, "spiritually impoverished" mission houses. The spiritual service is the conference; the modern gadget, the tape recorder; the "spiritually impoverished missions," those which receive little or no spiritual from a priest during the course of the year. The idea might be summed up as Taped Conferences on the Spiritual Life. There is no one way in which such an idea might realized. Sketched here are three possibilities. In one plan a religious community with a number smaller mission houses that do not enjoy the privilege regular conferences from a priest might secure the services. of a priest expressly to prepare a set of taped conferences for these houses. A distinct advantage of such a procedure would be that a priest could be selected who is well ac2 quainted with the particular community, its constitutionsl and customs, and its works. Furthermore, the community, could engage a man of proved abilities. Consider, for how a good retreat master could in this way follow up and amplify his original instruction, providing a spiritual focus and direction for souls over a con-siderable time span. How many conferences would he tape? This might vary according to the time the priest could give to such a proj-ect and to the number of conferences from one source community-might want. In general, six to eight confer-ences would seem ample, or perhaps enough for the re-, treat SUndays of the year. Probably--at first anyway-~' conferences in a series (where one is dependent on prem-ises set up in a preceding one) would seem less practical than autonomous conferences. Separate conferences would also simplify the distribution process. The subject of such conferences might well be deter-mined by a discussion between the priest and the religious superiors or even perhaps bysuggestions from ithe sisters themselves. The length ortiming 6f the tapes, too, might be suggested by superi6rs to fit into some. specific order of the day, as, for instance; a conference on the monthly day of recollection. Generally a half hour might be pro-posed as a relatively prudent length. For one thing, most Iape~ run one half hour; a longer donference would neces-i~ ate changing tapes--and there are distractions enough without mechanical onesl Too, we can only listen with maximum profit for so long. A half-hour is a safe average estimate. In this connection, it might be observed that the ;peaker can no longer rely ori gesture or facial expression ~r the command of his presence. He will need to compen- ;ate for these by careful use of illustration, examples, and ~enerally concrete, specific language. Once a set of conferences is taped, it could be dupli-zated to meet whatever demand there would be within the community. Note that five reproductions of a six-con-ference set of tapes wouldmake a conference on the,spirit-aal life available to thirty mission houses.After a tape had ;erved its purpose in one house, it could be sent on im-aaediately to another house, much in the manner we are !amiliar with in handling orented movies. Some initial planning in the form of a schedule for each tape would make distribution a minimum .chore. In communities which have a loan library, the tapes might well be added .o the materials these libraries make available to the sis- .er$. If the initial project proved valuable, the religious :ommunity could then enlist the aid of other priests and ~adually build up a considerable library of conferences or its sisters. A continuous program of new tapes--per-haps two or three sets a year--would seem ideal. A more ambitious project would originate with the )riests themselves. Here a diocese, an order, or a province )f an order of religious men might prepare and make ~vailable to sisters taped conferences on the spiritual life. Fhis, as I see it, would.be somewhat comparable to the ,ery real service religious orders of men are now perform-ng in publishing such magazines as the Sponsa Regis and he Review for Religious. This notion has fascinfiting possibilities. Think of the )riests in the cloister, older priests and those physically 11, priests,committed to work in seminaries and chancery ffices--for all of these, the tape is a possible pulpit. Tapes ould annihilate distance and a sister in New Mexico Ta~d Conterences VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Janet, S.C,L. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS could listen to Dom Hubert yon Zeller. They could bring the greatest spiritual thinkers of our generation into the most humble convent and they could preserve those voices for the next generation, Perhaps more ambitious yet: some large central agency concerned with the welfare' of religious--such as the Con~ ference of Major_ Keligious Superiors of Women's Insti-tutes or the Sister. Formation Conference might under-take such a project on a large scale, establishing a library of tapes for circulation among member communities. A small membership fee for each house or a larger one for a commu_nity would, I believe, cover the expenses of the project. ~ ° ~" Of course, the three outlined plans are not mutually ex-clusive. Indeed, they might well supplement each other and so offer .the sister "an embarrassment of riches~' in helping her gr6w in the spiritual life. Objections there would be certainly~ and it would be unrealistic to bypass therefor to pretend they could all be obviated. Such a project, for instance, would make a new demand on.already overworked priests. A certain, amount of expense and organization and book work would be in-volved:. What of the: .process of obtaining 'ecclesiastical approval? Some 'people simply"do not like being "talked at" by a machine, Furthermore, just. what advantage would the tape have over the,book? There are ,no real 'anSwers to the problems of time and taste. But there are some answers to other questi.ons., Ec clesiastical permission could no doubt be worked 6ut in side already existing channels. And, although th~ book is probably superiOr to the tape, objectively, still theteache, who uses the record or the tape can tell you that ther~ are times when the spoken word is more powerful and moremeaningful than the written word. More positively, jus~ wh;it purpose would such a projecl serve? A number of uses come to mind: for novitiates;' fo, sisters under temporary vows, :for ,sister,formation groups for the bedridden and .those, such as surgery supervisors who are unable to be :at community exercises, for prepa ration in renewing vows. But the most general use is on~ that can perhaps be illustrated by what is not, I think, ar undomm6n., experience among religious women in thi country today. It is principally why I think of this as ~ proposal for small missions. .'., ' A sister is missioned in, a parochial school in a fair-sizec town for nine or ten months out of every year. Here, ex cept for the Sunday sermon' in the parish church and th~ occasional and very generalized exhortation of her con lessor, the sister receives no formal spiritual instruction Her community may try valiantly to supplement this die during, vacation periods by institutes, tertianship pro grams, and so on. And fortunately for the sister, the Church demands the annual retreat. For very many sisters this is the only spiritual oasis in the year. Making good, solid spiritual conferences available to such a sister would be, I submit, 'a major act of super-natural charity. Too, it would "lengthen the arm" of the priest--or better, extend his voice~ which is, after all, the voice of Christ. + ÷ + Taped Conleren~es VOLUME 20, ,.1761 127 R. F. SMITH, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents ÷ ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 128 The documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during October and November, 1960 will be surveyed in the following article. Unless otherwise speci-fied, all page references throughout the article will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 52). Allocutions and Messages On August 24, 1960 (AAS, 817-19), the Holy Father addressed the athletes gathered in Rome for the Olympic Games. He told the group that the purpose of athletics is not the winning of prizes but the proper development of the human body. However, he added, athletics not only affect the body by producing health, vigor, agility, grace-fulness, and beauty; but they also produce constancy, courage, and habits of self-denial in the soul. Hence he urged the athletes to fulfil in themselves the old saying, "A sound mind in a sound body." He concluded his al-locution by calling upon the group to observe the city of Rome closely and to see the role that Rome has played in the spread of the salvation and the charity that stem from the Gospel. Five days later, August 29, 1960 (AAS, 819-29), the Pope spoke to the officials and administrators of the Olympic Games. With this group he stressed his intense interest in world peace on the basis of the brotherhood that exists among all men. He also recalled to his listeners the rues sage of St. Paul that they should strive for a prize that higher and more durable than any earthly prize (1 Col 9:25). On August 28, 1960 (AAS, 829--30), the Vicar of Chris~ sent a radio message to the people of Peru on the occasior of their National Eucharistic-Congress. He pointed ou to them that the unity and brotherhood of men find thei~ origin in the fatherhood of God and are nourished at th~ Eucharistic table where Christ is received who died the salvation of all men and who is the principle of supernatural life for the entire human race. On September 16, 1960 (AAS, 821-24), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Fifth Thomistic World Congress. In the remarks that he made to th~ Congress, Pope John emphasized that the moral teaching of St, Thomas is always directed to the attainment of a super-natUral final end. He also said that the explanation and solution of moral problems according to the principles of St. Thomas will lead to remarkable results in. the way of peace for the Church and for the entire world. Hence, h'e continued, if his listeners succeed in presuading both man-agement and labor to know their respective rights and responsibilities, they will at the same time be leading them to follow Christ who is mankind's protector in this Hfe and its reward exceeding great in eternity. This, he said, will require a diligent study of the works of ~St. Thomas; and he called for a constant increase in the numbers of those who derive their light and learning from the works of the Angelic Doctor, This increase, he noted, should not only exist among priests and scholars, but also among all those interested in the humanities and especially among the young members of Catholic Action. To this end the Pope also urged the wider distribution of St. Thomas' writings in vernacular translations. On September 24, 1960 (AAS, 824-27), Pope John XXlII talked to a group of heart specialists in the hope, as he put it, of giving them a knowledge of the dignity of their profession in the light of Christian revelation. The Bible, he said, stresses the preeminent place the heart has in the human person. It is the heart from which come forth holy thoughts, wisdom, and virtue; it is the heart which leads man to rectitude, simplicity, and humility; it is with our whole heart that we are commanded to love God; and when the Son of God came to live among men, it was His Heart that he proposed to men as an example: "Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart" (Mr 11:29). Hence, he told his listeners, while a superficial view might think that a heart specialist is dealing only with a problem in human anatomy, in the eyes of faith and in reality he is concerned with a whole world of moral and religious values. Moreover, faith will show the doctor the beauty of his efforts as a scientist in quest for truth; at the same time the same faith will teach him how humble he must be in the face of the limitless immensity of God, Finally, faith will show the scientist the image of God in his fellow men and thereby transform all his relations with them. This effect of faith, the Holy Father added, is especially apparent in a profession like the medical one which is entirely devoted to suffering human beings. Hence in their work the doctors should recall frequently that what + + ÷ Survey ot Roman Documents VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 130 they do for their patients they do for that Christ who will one day say to them: "I was sick, and you vi.sit,ed me" .(Mt 25!36). On October 1, 1960 (AAS, 827-28), the Pope received the King and Queen of Thailand and delivered to them an allocution of welcome and good wishes. A similar allo-cution was given by the Pontiff when he received the Prince and Princess of Liechtenstein on October 8, 1960 (AAS 828-29). On October 20, 1960 (AAS, 893-95), the Vicar of' Christ visited the new building of the Beda in Rome and spoke to the English seminarians in residence there. Since the Beda's new building is near the Basilica of St. Paul he urged his listeners to recall frequently the woi'ds of St. Paul: "By the grace of God, I am what I am, and his grace in me has n0t been fruitless" (1 Cor 15:10). He went on to say that vocations are a tangible sign of the presence of God in the world; when God calls, a young man gives up family traditions, ambition, and earthly advantages and seeks only the glory of God, the sanctification of His name, the coming of His Kingdom, and the fulfilment of His will. He concluded his address by telling his listeners that each nation has its own treasure of traditions and of native virtue that can and must be transfigured into a precious instrument of the apostolate. Hence he urged them to take the well known English traits of humanity, gentlemanliness, and reflectiveness and transform them in the priestly activity they are called to engage in. On the same day the Pope also visited the new building that had just been completed to serve as a generalate and international house of studies for the Trappists. In the allocution that he gave for the occasion, the Holy Father t61d his listeners that the contemplative life constitutes one Of the fundamental structures of the Church; it has, he said, always been present in the two-thousand year history of the Church, constantly fruitful in virtue and con-stantly exercising a mysterious and powerful attraction for the loftiest and noblest souls. In praise of their vo-cation, Pope John cited to the Trappists the words of Plus XI (AAS, 26 [1934], 106) at the canonization of the Carmelite St. Teresa Margaret Redi: "It is these very pure and very lofty souls who by their suffering, their love, and their prayer silently exercise in the Church the most universal and most fruitful apostolate." He concluded his allocution by asking for the prayers of his listeners and of all the contemplatives of the world for the success of the coming ecumenical council. On October 25, 1960 (AAS, 898-903), the Holy Father spoke to the judges; officials, and lawyers of the Sacred Roman Rota. He told them that the dangers that weaken the institution of the family are accentuated at the present time, and he called the attention of all men of good will to the serious problem of the sanctity of marriage. In the first part of the allocution the Pope emphasized the need today for the instructi6n of the faithful r~egarding the dignity and the obligations of conjugal life. Marriage, he told them, is not only a natural reality; it is also a sacrament, a sign of grace and of that sacred reality, the espousal of Ch
Issue 1.5 of the Review for Religious, 1942. ; RI::::VII:::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS ' VOLUME I ~SEPTEMBER 15, 1942 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS OUR FRIENDS. THE ANGEl~S---Clement Andlauer. S.J . 290 PAMPIa.~.~ET. NOTICES . " . 300 PATR~:-I~:~'~BEDIENCE IN TIME OF WAR John C. Ford, S.J. . 301 BOOKS . ; -,, AL . 305 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE--G.Augustine Ellard. S.J . 306 SUPPLYIN.G DAYS OF ABSENCE FROM THE NOVITIATEm Adam C. Ellis. S.J . 322 IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS---The Editors . 326 THE "NEW COMMANDMENT" OF LOVEmMatthew Germing, S.J. 3~7 THE APOSTOLATE TOASSIST DYING NON-CATHOLICS-- Gerald Kelly, S.J . 338 COMMUNICATIONS (On Spiritual Direction) . 34 BOOK REVIEWS-- OUR MODELS IN RELIGION. By Brother Jean-Baptiste. F.M.S. 350 THE SOLUTION Is EASY. By the Reverend Mark Schmid. O.S.B. 350 THE DIALOG MASS. By the Reverend Gerald Ellard. S.J. 35 ! . THIS ROSARY. By the Reverend Anthony N. Fuerst . 353 BOOKS RECEIVED . . . 353 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 28. Visting Relatives . 29. Non-acceptance of a dispensation from Vows . " . . . 354 30. Occupation of Novice during Canonical Year . 35.5 31. Scapular Medal worn by Religious . 356 32. Absence from the Postulancy . 356 33. Re-admission of an ex-Religious . 357 34. Local Superior's power to grant Permissions . 357 35. Dismissal of Postulant without giving Reason . " . . ~357 ,THE LETTERS OF SAINT BONIFACE . 358 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 359 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1942. Vol. I, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March. May, duly. September. and November, at The College Press. 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, KanSas. by St. Mary's College, St. Matys. Kan-sas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as se~ond class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office. "Topeka. Kansas. under the act of March 3. 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis. S. J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. 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. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Our Friends, The Angels Clement Andlauer, S.3. A MATERIALISTIC age such as ours is embarrassed when confronted with the attitude of. St. Francis of Assisi toward nature. To hide their discomfort, moderns often accuse him of exaggerated sentimentality ~t0ward creatures. To St. Francis every creature; ~vhether animate or inanimate, was a brother o~ sister. No object was so low that it did not merit his love and p~otection, his reverence and praise. Tide world around him was one huge family of which he wa~s a member, and in that family circle he rejoiced to recognize his kin, no matter how infe-rior or even repulsive they might be in themselves. The thing that made St. Francis feel at home with the world around him was the consciousness of'a common Father in heaven. All things come from God, and in them all is reflected the perfection of~od. Why, then, should anyone be ashamed to acknowledge kinship Gith tbe wdrks of God's hands? How could. St. Francis help calling the' birds and beasts his brothers and sisters? This is not the exaggerated sentimentality which raises an animal to the status of a human being. It is an intensely human applica-tion of principles of cold logic; the principle that God is the first beginning and last end of all things, the principle that the Divine Essence is th~ model of every created thing. And whether or not we apply these principles in our own lives, the conclusion follows that together with the world around us we form one family. Among the members of our great created family are the angels. Despite the great difference beti~'een their nature and ours, they are our brothers in a higher and truer sense ~han the rest of creation. Even though .their splendor is so 290 - great that they havebeen mistaken by men for God Him-self, still they are creatures. St. John tills us in his Apoc-alypse that an angel spoki~ to him,, "And I fell down before his~ feet to adore him, And he said to me: 'See you do it no~. I am thy fellow-servant, i~nd of thy brethren, w.ho have the testimony of 3~sus. Adore God.'. " Here we have it on,~the word of one of the noblest spirits in heaven that he is our brother. Angels come from the same hand that made us: they are patterned after the same Divine Essence: alone of all other creatures they share with us an intellect and will. If this is not enough to/hake them our brothers, there remains the fact that angels and men are the adopted children of God. Supernatural union with God is our common end; God's grace raises us both to a state above our natures, and God is our mutual Father ifi a .very special and .sublime sense of the word. Our Elder Brothers The angels are our, elder brothers, the more illustrious members of our family. Save for the fact that the Son of God paid us the honor of taking to ,Himself a human; not an angelic, nature, these brothers of ours are far superior, to us. In man is reflected .the existence, the life, the activity of G~d; but all'of these perfections are intimately dependent on matter. Only in the angels do we find these attribufes of God mirrored independently of matter,'~, as they are in God, Because angels exist and act. without the slighest neces-sary connection with matter we call them pure spirits. Our souls are indeed spirits; that is, they are stibstances which have no component parts into which they can be ~separated. They can exist aside from matter, and in their highest operations they depend on matter only as a necessary con-dition. But our souls are brought ifto beihg brily on the 291 CLEMENT ,~NDLAUER condition that matter is rightly disposed. BY their vgry nature they are destined to be united to a material body without which they are incomplete. In their intellectual acts, our souls lean so heavily for support on our bodies that if our sense channels are blockaded by disease or acci-. dent, our mental life is nil or at the best extremely meager. Even a departed soul retains an aptitude for the body it once inhabited. It was~ destined for intimate .union with that body for all eternity, and only when the body rejoins the soul at the resurrection will the complete substance.man exist again. But with the angels it is otherwise. They were never intended to be joined tO matter, or to be depend-ent on it in any way for their life and activity: hence we call them pure spirits. Not only do th~ angels surpass us in the more perfect way in which they show forth God's existenc.e~and activity, but they participate in His power more completely than men. What a struggle'Our poor intellects have in acquiring truth. How faulty is our cognition of many things when we do acquir~ some knowledge of them. Unless an object can be reached by our senses we cannot know it directly but only by analogy. But for an angel it is no Struggle, no matter of syllogizing to attain truth. His cognition is not a mere scratching of the surface to find a similarity. His keen intellect goes to the very essence of things at once and sees ramifications that the wisest men miss after the study of a lifetime. For an angel an examination would not be the painful, ordeal it often-is for us, but just another pleas-ant occupation. These spirits also surpass us .in what we ordinarily call power. It would be a great mistake to imagine that because they have no bodies fhey. have no .powe'r over material objects. Man has become adept in imposing his will on the world .around him by the clever use of the laws of nature, 292 OUR FRIElqI~, THE ANGELS but he must always make use of material instrumentssuch as machines or chemicals. An angel do,es not need a crowbar to move a huge;rock. Indeed, he couldn't use one, since he has no hands. But by his deep insight into the physical laws and by the~ power inherent in his nature, an angel could move that rock more quickly, than we could for all our crowbars. A Valuable Relationship So we see that these brothers .of ours are very. wonder-ful creatures. They are relatives whom we need not be ashamed to acknowledge before the most distinguished meh of ~his earth. It is ratl~er flattering to us to have such hon-orable family connections, but most of us desire, something more substantial than the vicarious limelight of important relatives. If our brotherhood with the angels does nothing more than tickle our Vanity, then it is an interesting but not very.useful doctrine. Therefore~ it is natural for us to ask what, if any', i~ the value of such a relationship with the .angels. Things rarely have any value in themselves; their importance usually comes from their relation to other things. Diamonds would not be valuable if all the rocks in the world were diamonds. But when we look at the world as a whole and see the position that~tha~"pecul.i._ar rock, the diamond, has in the mineral world we under-stand why diamonds are worth money while a piece of sandstone of the same size is worthless. If, then, we look at the position of angels and men in tile plan that God has established in this universe', we begin to understand the very practical use of our brotherhood with the angels. We know that God did not create this world without any purpose in mind. 'On the contrary, reason and faith teach us that God engaged in the work 6f creation to share 293 CLEMENT ANDLAUER His own ,divine goodness with other beirigs as far .as that was possible. Intimately connected "with this end' is the happiness of man, a happindss which in the present order means union with God in the Beatific Vision. Now, while we cannot ~frustrate the first purpose of God, since, by our very existence we share in the perfections of God; unfor- ~tunately for us we can, by the wrong use of our free wills, very effectively prevent God's second and conditional inten-tion from being iealized. Indeed, without special, help from God, it would be extremely difficult-for us not to frustrate this end and thus lose our ~eternal happiness. However, it is hardly_ becoming God's dignity and man's liberty that God should constantly step in to keep us on the right path. A wise employer does not try to handle every department of his business himself. He uses foremen~ and intermediaries. He keeps a watchful eye on the work as. a. whole to see that things go as ithey should, but he leaves his men to work together 'to accomplish the task undertaken. This is what God has done. He designs the whole operation and then allows His creatures to work together, the lower helping the higher, and the higher directing, and watching' over the lower. As St. Thomas ~puts it, "G6d directs lower creatures by the higher;, not because of any defect in His power, but out of the abun-dance of His goodness, that He :might:also give tO creatures some of'the dignity He enjoys as the cause of all things~" Ndw we begin to see the value of our connection with ,the angels. Looking at God's providence 'in its complete-ness we should be surprised if He did not use the :angels to assist us in reaching our last end. If God has communi-cated so,~ much of His infinite perfection to our elder brothersl is it no~t'reasonable .that He should also allow them to assist Him as the cause of' all things? Is it not just what we should expec~ of God's goodness that He would 2§4 OUR FRI~IqD~, THE ANGELS arrange for the ,more perfect members of His family to guard and help the less perfect members? fit Consoling Doctrine -If we have any doubt about the matter, we need but examine Scripture and the teaching of the Church. In the Psalms we read, "For He hath given His angels charge over thee: to keep thee in all thy ways." And again, "The angel of the Lord shall encamp, round about them that fea.r Him; and shall deliver them." It was for this reason that Christ warned the Jews not to despise the little children, those seemingly unimportant mites. "See .that you despise not these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven .always see the face of my Father Who is in heaven." Fathers and theologians have so .insisted on the doctrine that every man has a guardian angel that we cannot doubt this fact without the greatest rashness. The Catechism of the Council of Trent also illustrates this truth in a homely way. It reads, "For as parents, if their children have occa-sion to travel a dangerous way, infested by robbers, appoint persons to guard and assist them in case of attack, so does our Heavenly Father place over each of us, in our journey toward our heavenly home, angels to protect us by their aid and v;ratchfulness, that we may escape the snares secretly laid for us by our enemies, repel their ,horrible attacks on us, and proceed on our journey along the road that leads directly to our end. By their guidance we are saved from the devious wanderings into which our treach-erous foe might betray us, to, lead us aside from the way that leads to,Heaven." Could anything be more consoling than this do(trin~ at thosetimes when we feel so keenly our own weakness? It teaches us not only to hope for but to expect help from creatures that are more like to God. than we are. Obviously, 295 (~LEMENT ANDLAUER r~ we should not look for. such visible and extraordinary ix~tervention in our problems as Tobias had. Our angels will not appear as young men in shining armor tol strike down our enemies as did the angel when Heliodorus attempted to rob the temple of Jerusalem of its-treasures. But we can expect the kind of protection that the valiant Judith received. Inspired by God she went with one maid-servant into the camp of the Assyrians who were besieging Bethulia. For four daysshe dwelt there in the midstlof the dangers of camp life until God delivered Holofernes, the leader of the Assyrians, into her hands and she cut ,off his head. On her return to ]3ethulia unharmed and undefiled she told her countrymen, "Bu~ as the Lord liveth, His angel hath been my keeper, both going hence, and abiding there, and returning from thence hither." No matter how dangerous or difficult our duty may be, the Lord's~ahgel is our keeper and we need have no fear. i ~ Every day our guardian angels protect us from physi-cal dangers, but more important still they ward° off spir-itual dangers. We go through life constantly assaiied by. the spirits of evil who lead us .into sin. ' Against the~se evil ¯ spirits, who have lost none of their great intelligence and power,' we poor Weak men have'to struggle. With~God's grace we can put them to flight; but what a relief i~ is to "have a spirit equally~ powerful or even more powerful fighting¯ on our side. What a consolation in. the hour of death, when our faculties are.weakened and the evil spirits redouble their' efforts fo~. a. last desPerate attack, to have one. who will carry- on. the battle for us.~ This.~isth~ time when our ,guardian angels are most needed, and iri .thi~ hour ~heir whole power is devoted to our protection, i Another officeof our angels is that of counselor. It was an angel that advised Joseph in a dream to take M~ary as ¯ his spouse, to take the Child and fly into Egypt, tol bring 296 OUR FRIENEE, THE ANGELS the Child back again. This is not the way the-angels usually speak to us, but they do speak to us just as truly as if we exchanged "words with them. Frequently they suggest good thoughts to us in such a way that we quite naturally take them for our own thoughts. They urge us to do good works, and we do not realize that we are being~ led by the inspiration of. our guardian angels. In our afflictions they are close .to us to teach us patience and resig-nation, to fill us with faith, to .whisper words ofohope in the good with which God wil~l crown our sufferings. In our joys they rejoice with us, they cause in us thoughts of gratitud~ to God and encourage us to serv~ Him more faith-fully~ There is hardly a Catholic who in some perplexing situation has not had recourse to his angel and received from him the advice he sought. It isa frequent experience with all of us, but because our minds are so easily capti-vated by material objects our counselors sometimes meet stiff opposition in their work. Scripture calls our attention to another duty of the angels: the offering .of our prayers to God--increasing the value of our cold petitions by uniting to them their own ardent supplications. The angel Raphael told the older Tobias, "When thou didst p.ray with tears I offered.thy prayers to the Igord.". And in the Apocalypse St. ~lohn tells us that he saw an angel who mingled much incense with the prayers of the saints and offered them to God. Prayer, decently offered, is always listened to b~ God, but praye~ fervently offered is more acceptable. Our angels a.re so closely united to us that our needs become.as it were their needs, and our petitions become their petitions; and who can say how often the ardent and undistracted prayer of our angels has obtained for us an.answer to our prayers? And so it g6es all through life. From our births to our deaths these untiring guardians stand ready to protect and 297 ,guide us. The task that began with our entrance into this ¯ life ends only when our souls depart from our bodies. As we prepare to enter the door of eternity the Church prays, "Come forth to meet him, ye angels of the Lord, receive his soul and preser.ve itin the sight of the Most High." As the body is carried to its last resting ,place it is accompanied the words, "May the angels escort thee to Paradise. At. thy c.oming may the martyrs welcome thee, and conduct thee, to the Holy City ~lerusalem. May a choir of angels receive thee, and with Lazarus, once poor, mayest thou have rest everlasting." After Death ". Strictly speaking, after the last great battle on our behalf against the powers of darkness the mini,~trations of our guardian angels cease. Now we are beyond the power to be helped by them or to be harmed by the evil spirits. Our course, is run, and all that remains is the decision of the ,ludge. But though their work as guardians is. completed. we can hardly imagine that those who have been so close to us for so many years and who have had such an interest in us will cease to .care for us. To the Throne of God they lead th~ souls of their charges. There they step ~side while the ,Iudge pronounces sentence. If the sentence be Purgatory, once more the angels take up the souls and bear them to that sad prison. Here the souls must remain until their debts .are paid; but it is not unlikely that from time to time they are consoled and encouraged by the visits of their angels. When at last the purified" souls come forth, it is to meet their angels who will lead them to .the company of the Queen of angels and her-Divine Son. What 10ve and hap-piness the soul and its angel will experience°in each Other's company is easy to imagine, for they are now doubIy dear to one another, and together through eternity they will look OUR FRIENDS, THE ANGELS upon the Face of God and marvel at His wisdom that ,united them so intimately. Such then is the way that our Father in heaven has ¯ ordained that our illustrious brothers the angels should assist us in our journey through life. Modern critics call it a pious remnant of pagan superstition, but to anyone who understands the teaching of the Church about the angels it is clear that the Catholic doctrine has no connection with¯ the pagan attempt to explain the mysteries of nature by the workings of capricious; invisible beings. Neither is this teaching a fairy story to delight¯children. As we grow older, life loses many of the pleasant aspects that enter-tained us as Children. We get knocked about and learn hard lessons. But no matter how old or how wise we may become, there always remains the beautiful doctrine of the guardian angels that. thrilled us at seven and consoles usat seventy. How about our side of the picture? How are we to. repay these guardians of ours? To speak of repaying our angels would be to insult them, f6r they act solely because of love, and we, don't repay an act of love with baser cur-rency. But we do have obligations of love, gratitude, and reverence that we cannot dismiss. St. Bernard dwelt upon these duties of ours in one of his sermons; and we can do no .better than to leavethis study of the angels.with his words" in our ears: "What respect this do~trine of the guardian angels should arouse in you, what devotion it should pro-duce, what confidence it should inspire. Respect for their presence, devotionto their unselfish love, confidence in their watchfulness. Wherever you may lodge, or in whatever retired place you may be, respect your angel. Will you dare to do in his presence what you would not dare do before me~ Do you doubt that he whom you do not see is present? Then let us be faithful, let us be grateful to such guardians. 299 CLEMENT ANDLAU'ER They never fail us, they are wise, they are powerful; what' shall we fear? And so, brethren, in God let us love His angels affectionately as our co-heirsin the future and as our protectors and teachers, placed over us by our Father, in this life." PAMPHLET NOTICES In Novena to Our L~dd~ of Victor~ , the Reverend Raymond A. Panda has ar-ranged a number of very appropriate prayers and hymns for congregational 'use. The pamphlet bears the Imprimatur of the Archbishop of Milwaukee: is published by Lawrence N. Daleiden and Co., 218 West Madison St., Chicago, I11. NO price given on our review copy. The Ser~,ant of God. Brother Meinrad Euester O.$.B. is the simple story of the lif~ of a Benedictine Lay Brother whose cause for beatification has been inaugu-rated. 32 pages. For further ir~formation, write tothe Grail, St. Meinrad. Indiana. The Militant~ Christian Vir',des by the very Reverend Ignatius Smith. O.P. is a reprint of an article that appeared in the s~:holarly Dominican Quarterly, The Thomist. Father Smith gives~a compact synthesis of the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas on the stern Christian virtues, particularly of.vindictive justice, just anger, righteous indignation, and virtuous contempt 0f crime. These things, contends the author, demand~study now and practic~ both now and in'the peace that is to follow this war. The pamphlet contains~,a brief discussion outlin.¢, and a large number of references tothe works of St. Thomas. 32 pages: sells for 5 cents a single copy, 50 copies for $2.25, 100 copies for $4,00, postage extra in each case. Write to the National Catholic Welfare Conference,, 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, N. W., Washington. D. C. 300 Pa :rio :ic Obedience, in Time o1: War John C. Ford, S.J. IN .THE Catholic scheme .of things all lawful authority comes ultimateiy frdm God. The civil rulers of peoples, whether they be kings or premiers of presidents, whether the~, believe in God or not, and whether they keep His law or'not, are nevertheless His ministers when they act within the bound~ of their a~uthority. St. Paul is not speaking of believers, but of the pagan rulers of his day when he exhorts Christians thus: "Let everyone be subject to the higher authority, for there exists no authority except from God, and those who exist have been appointed by God" (Romans 13, 1). And St. Peter likewise: "Be subject to every human creature for God's sake, whether to the king .as supreme, or to governors as sent through him for vengeance on evil-doers and for the praise of the good. For such is the will of God that by doing go6d you should 13ut to silence the ignorance of foolish men. Live as freemen, yet not using your freedom as a cloak of malice but as servants of God. Honor all men; love the brotherhood: fear God; h6nor the king" (I Peter 2, 13-17). And Our Lord Himself upheld the authority of the Scribes and Pharisees even while He rebuked them, saying: '~The Scribes and the Pharisees have sat on the chair of Moses. All things, therefore, that they .1Father Ford originally wrote this article at the request of the editors of the Boston. Traoeler. It first appeare~d in that publication under date of May 26, 1942. It was later reprinted in the Congressional Record, May 28, 1942, page A 2139. We . reprint it here with the permission, of the publishers. We asked permission to reprint it because, though not written specifically for religious, yet its clear statement of the Christian duties of Obedience and Patr,otism will undoubtedly be Of use to our readers whether for personal meditation or in their apostolic miaistriea.~ED. 301 JOHN C. FOP.D command you, 6bserve and do. But do not act according to their works. " (Matthew 23, 2-3). Citizens, especially in a-democracy, have th~ right and the duty to inquire into the government's policy, to criticize it, to make efforts under.the laws and the Constitution to change it if they disapprove ot~ it. But if they want to prac-tice the Christian virtue of civil Obedience they cannot do any of these things in.a rebellious spirit. They cannot be . so disposed that they intend to disobey when they disap-prove. The obedience of a reasonable man is not blind. No virtue can ignore truth. If I know that something is black I cannot say it is white. But obedience does not depend on speculative approval of commands or the poli-cies behind them. Mu~h less does it depend on approval of the tiersonal characters of those in authority. Obedience sees the authority of God in the ruler. It is the first prin-ciple of united action under lawful authority/. During war time united action is absolutely indispen-sable. And it can be h~d only at the price of sacrifices and h~ardships which will increase rather than decrease as the war goes on. The practice of obedience, then, becomes more difficult just when it becomes most imperative. And if dutiful submission to the cold claims of obedience were our only principle we might easily fail to live up to its ¯ requirements. But there ii another virtue which God has placed in our hearts, the virtue of patriotiim. ~A-new book has juit been published in Boston by the Stratford Company: National Patriotism in Papal Teaching, by Father John Wright. It is an intensely interesting and ,timely work. -The moral pronouncements of the modern Popes on the virtue of patriotism have steered a middle course. That. excessive patriotism which degenerates into nationalism or racism ,is condemned. But condemned likewise is~ the 302 PATRIOTIC OBEDIENCE IN TIME OF opposite error, that a preferential love of one's own country is incompatible ~ith international peace. True patriotism is a well-ordered love of one's fatherland. We are bound, says Benedict XV, to love with asp, ecial attachment thosd with whom we share a commonfatherland. Instinct itself tells us to turn to the fatherland as ~the source of those 'rich cuItural blessings which we have received precisdy because " we are Americans and not of any other nation. True patriotism is part of'the virtue of charity and like religion itself, says Leo XIII, is one Of the ~"two duties of the firit order from which no man in this life can exempt himself," --the love of God and the love of c6untry. Cardinal O'Connell echoed this Papal teaching in his~ Easter message this year when he said: "What America offers and gives and maintains for her citizens is a treasure so pr~ious that it is Sacred. The preservation of that heritage is to every American a sacred trust, and with the possession of that trust goes the sacred obligation to pre-serve, defend, and perpetuate it. That is the meaning, of true patriotism. The defense of our altars and our homes is an bblig'ation which rests upon "e3rery citizen." It is not hard°to obey when,we love what is com-manded. When the motive of sincere love of country.~s added to "the motive of obedience, burdens that otherwise would seem unsuppbr~able become easy to bear. Love con-quers all things. It is a duty theref0re~ to foster this true love of our own United States of America, so that the natural instinct that attaches us to her will become a delib-erate reasonable love of preference permeating all our civic obligations and changing cold obedience to deycoted service. Tru~ patriotism does not mean flag waving. It does not include hatred of other' nations, whether enemies or allies. Nor does it necessarily include love of the admin~s- ¯ 303 JOH~ C. FO~ tration. Administrations come and go. The fatherland endures. But patriotism does e~njoin respect for the execu-tives whom we have chosen to ~atch over our native land. Above all patriotism does not go about shouting: My country, right or wrong! Like obedience it is not a blind but a reasonable virtue. It faces whatever facts there are, and admits the unpleasant ones when they are really facts. But when the love of country ' and fellow countrymen is true and deep, it is. strong enough to stand the strain that. may be put upon it .by governmental policies, or what appear to us t.o be official mistakes. And so in time of war especially there should be a mini-mum of captious criticism of officialdom." We are now fighting for our life. The. heritage of America is at stake. Only united action will preserve it. For we are fighting enemies who are powerful and skilled and "who are also the enemies of all international law and .justice'"- (Cardinal O'Connell). I have often heard the objection made that some of our allies are also the enemies of all international law and jus-tice. Russia is meant. This is undoubtedly a fact and an. ¯ unpleasant one. Russia is not fighting in order to preserve the American way of life.She is fighting, naturally enough, to preserve her own, way of life, which at the moment is the way of totalitarian dictatorship. Com-munistic Russia. is anti-democratic, anti-Christian, and anti-God. " Her principles, therefore, are the very opposite of all that we.mean by American democracy. It would be dangerous folly to close our eyes to this truth. But true patriotism does not have to close its eyes. Those who love their country with true devotion will face the facts realisti-cally, and will not love her any the less because of the cruel n~cessity that has forded her to make such an ally. The American who really loves his country will recognize that 3O4 P&TRIOTIC OBEDIENCE IN TIME OF nedessit.y, will work with all his heart for our own Ameri-" can way of life, and guard it ceaselessly against the insidious infiltration of principles that would destroy it. It is obvious that in a nation as great and diversified as ours, and in a war like this one, absolute harmony of views cannot be expected. There are bound to be differences of opinion as to methods and aims. And so our hope of. united action must be based on something higher, stronger, and more universal than our'individual opinions. I find that higher principle in the obligatory character of the Christian virtues of obedience and patriotism: They teach us to recognize the authority of God Himself in our rulerS, and to respond to an.instinct that God has placed in our hearts by loving with a special 10re the land that gave us birth. When motivated by these virtues even war-like efforts. can be directed too.Almighty God. And indeed if we are to master the unhappy fact of war, rather than allow it to -master us; if we are to keep' it from dehumanizing and brutahzmg us,. as it easily could, we must find something spiritual and Christianizing~in it. The practice of patriotic obedience .out of supernatural motives is the Christian answer to the challenge of war. BOOKS ON TRIAL !~oohs or~ Trial is a review of book-reviews, published periodically by The Thomas More Book Shop. 22 West Monroe Street, Chicago, I11. It promises to be an immense; help to librarians who are desirous of getting "clean, wholesome, and meritorious books." Such is the object of the publishers. A genuine Catholic Action project, it deserves cooperation¯ For further information write to the publishers. 305 The SupernaEural Lit:e G. Augustine Ellard, S.3. THE supernatural life may be defined as a participation~ in the intimate life of God and 'eventually in that form of beatitude which is peculiar to the Blessed Trinity. Every Christian knows that. there are communications of life within God. The Father begets the Son intellec-tuallyo and gives Him the whole of the divine life. In turn the Father and the Son produce the Holy Spirit and give Him also the whole'of the divine life. There the communi-cations of the divine life might have ceased. But, most graciously and generously, the Divine Persons decided that they wouldgrant a sl~are in that life to angels and men After Adam and Eve had received it and lost it again for themselves and their posterity, the Incarnation of the Son was devised as the gland means of.restoring it to men. Thus to the Incarnation of God there corresponds a certain deifi-cation or divinization of men. It is this deification of men which we hope to explain somewhat in this article. Life in general may be described as the power of self-motion. The acts that characterize life begin from within. Where no such activity can be discerned, it is concluded that no life is present. Thus, if a man were noticed not to initiate any movement whatsoever, not even a l~eart-.bea~t or a respiration, he would be pronounced dead. Besides beginning from within, vital activity, at least if it be nor-mal, generally produces .an effect within the agent also, and indeed for the better. Every heart-beat or respiration leaves one a little better than one would be without it. Hence, life may also be said to consist in the power of self-perfection. Only living things can make. themselves more perfect. This d~finition is not quite suitable for God. He 306 THE SUPERNATUK~L does not change, nor can He become more perfect. Div.ine life is that excellence in God whereby, in accordance with His nature, He acts, and by this activity is perfect. In everything that lives, we can distinguish the sub-stance or nature, which is fundamental; thevital powers or faculties by which it acts or moves and perfects itself;-and lastly, vital activity itself. To illustrate: when a man is sound asleep the whole of his substance or nature--body plus soul--is there, resting; his power to see, for example, is suspended; when he awakens again, he will actually see. Degrees of Natural Life Of life that is natural, that is, proportionate to the nature of the being in which, it is found, we know of five grades or degrees; They are: vegetative, animal, human: 'angelic, and divine life. All members of the vegetative kingdom show their powers of Self-motion by nourishing themselves, by growing, and by reproducing their kind. 'Besides having these three functions, animals can also move about freely, and especially they have the life of knowledge that comes through the five senses, and the ~corre.~ponding life of the sense:appetites. In the light of that knowledge they. experi-erice various emotions and desires, and regulate their move.- merits. Men have all the vital functions of plants andanimals. and in addition they have the life of reason and of the will. This is their characteristic mark and that which raises them incomparably above mere animals. Thus far the ~radation is clear and neat. In the purely spiritual realm we find two natural forms of life, the angelic anal the divine. Purely spiritual life has only two great functions, intelligence and volition. In contrast to men, who are said to be. rational, because they come to most of G.AUGUSTINE ELLARD their knowledge by reasoning, that is, by proceedii~g from premises to conclusions, the angels have intuition, that is, a - simple, direct, view of things, even of spiritual realities and truths. Whereas,we can have only an indirect knowledge of spirits and spiritual things, the angels see them as easity and immediately as men perceive one another. Immeasurably above angelic life is the fifth and final grade of natural life, that of God Himself. Being purely spiritual, it also consists in understanding and Willing. But whereas that of angels is limited, the intelligence and will of God are irifinite. They must have corresponding and pro-portionate objects which they alone can reach. As a matter of fact, these too are infinite. Thus the divine intellect has an infinite :intuition or view of all truth, infinite and finite. This is followed immediately by a similar infinite love of all goodness, and by a like fruition of all. beaaty. These three great acts, vision; love, and fruition, of the Infinite, and of all that is finite, constitute the inner life and beati-tude of God. If God had chosen not to create a world, they would make we 'learn that the up'the whole life inner life of God Infinite vision of infinite truth in infinite word or mental expression the Son. Infinite love of the infinite of God. By revelation is not quite so simple. the Father begets an of that truth, that is, goodness in the Father and Son produce the Holy Spirit, the term of that love. Thus, in spite 6f the absolute simplicity of God, there is in the one divine nature a trinity of persons, and though God ~s. umque and w,thout equal,, there is a~certain companion-ship in the oneIDeity. What we may call the external life of God consisti in creating a.nd governing the world, and it culminates in sanctifying and beatifying angels and men. These are all the natural forms of life. We might 'sus-pect that none other is possible. But by faith we come to know of asixth form, which, however, is not nataral, but 308 THE SUVERI~ATURKL L11:~_ su15ernatural. It does not come, from within, .but is super- . added from above; it is s uperhuma, n ,an d even superangelic. Supernatural Life Men can, to some .extent and in~, an external way, "elevate" lower forms of life. By skilful cultivation.or by using special artificial means, they can enable plants to bring, forth more beautiful flowers or bettei fruits than those ,plants left to themselves could produce. In this con-nection the processes of grafting are particularly note-worthy; by them new and very excellent kinds of fruit can be obtained. In grafting there is a real composition of diverse forms of life.' Domestic animals are advanced in various ways by human aid. As things are now, milady's little poodle lives in a.warm dry apartment, without effort on his part receives at regular intervals just the right quality and quantity of scientifically manufactured dog-food, and sleeps,in a comfortable little bed of his own; and if he should be injured or fall sick, he would be taken off to the dog-hospital and enjoy the refinements of modern veteri-nary medicine and surgery. In a porely natural state he would have no protection from the elements, he would eat what he could catch, if he could catch it, and, when he could catch.it; and if anything serious happened to him, he w.ould have to linger in his pain until death released him, coming perhaps 'in the form of a stronger animal to devour him: Among men, a king may m~arry a commoner and raise her to royal rank and dignity. A wealthy man may adopt as his son and heir a penniless orphan. The learned can share their learning and intellectual satisfactions with the, unlearned. In all these cases there is a certain, elevation of one's plane of life, and a participation in the life of~those who have been living on a higher plane. What men cannot do to lower forms of life is to elevate them internally, that is, to give them a new. kind of intrinsic'vital power. 309 AUGUSTINE ~-LLARD If a mere.plant could be made, for example, to see, like. a dog, that vision would be supernatural in the plant, though it is natural in a dog. If a dog could be made to reason, like a man, that reasoning would .be supernatural in the dog, as it is natural in a ',man. If a man should be enabled to perceive spirits as angels do, that perception would be supernatural in the man, .as. it would be natural in an angel. Now then, if a man could by some special dispensation be given the power to do-something that is characteristic of the Divine Persons and peculiar to them-- for instance, to have an intuition of the divine essence--that again would be supernatural in the man, as it would. be natural ,in the Trinity. Such an intuition would be supernatural in an angel also. Participation in a vital perfecti~on belonging to a higher creatable nature, for example, for a man to hold converse with an angel, as was granted to St. Francis of Rome, is said to be supernatural in the relative sense. Participation in a perfection belonging only to the. uncreated and ~divine, nature, for example, immediate vision of the Divinity~ is called supernatural in the absolute sense, This is the meaning which we shall attach to '!supernatural" hereafter in this article, Now it should not' be difficult to see what ismeant by the supernatural life. It consists simply in this, that by a peculiar exercise of omnipotence and of divine munificence, God enables men and angels to share in those three great vital functions which are natural only in the~Divine Per-sons. Men are made to participate in that kin.d of life~ and eventually in that kind of beatitude, which are naturally characteristic only of God himself. They are empowered to have a direct view~ of Infinite Truth itself; a corresponding love of the Infinite Goodness, and a similar fruition of the Infinite Beauty,~ Thus they' have a share.in the life and beatitude of the Blessed Trinity. That they :do so, is very. 310 THE SUPEI~NATURAIL LIFE clear at least for the Blessed~iia heaven. They possess the supernatural life in its :full development, in its maturity. Only in the light of this s~age of it; can it be well under-stood. One could more easily judge, of trees from their seeds or animals from their embryos than understand the supernatural life by studying it merely in its first and lowes~ form. Beatitude If we compare the supernatural life in its beatific stage with .God's own life, we Shall note certain likenesses and certain differences. In general, the objects are the same. It is the same Infinite Truth which is seen and contemplated by God and the Blessed. The same Infinite Goodness is loved by God and the Blessed. It is the same.Infinite Beauty that enraptures both God and the Blessed. But in God the vision itself is infinite and comprehensive or exhaustive, whereas in the Blessed their act of vision is finite and not exhaustive. Similarly', in God love and fruition are unlimited, but in the Blessed these acts are limited and pro-portionate to their vision. In the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit there is the plenitude of the divine life and beatitude: in the beatified, a participation of that life ;,rid beatitude. They have the same thing, but not in its fulness. "Their participation may be compared to the share tha~ the First Lady of the Land has in the dignity of the President, or to the part that a son has in the wealth and station of his father, or to the sharing of pupils in their teacher's learning. In God there is the original, so to speak, of the divine life: in those in heaven with Him, a copy, li~teness, or assimila-tion to that original. In God, vision, enjoyment, and love are natural and all substantially identified with the divine essence; in men or angels these acts are graciously super-added to their natures, and they are not substantial. What 311 G, AUGUSTINE ELL/~D ~God has of Himself and by nature, the beatified have by favor and grace. Man becomes an adoptive son of God, but not a natural Son, like the Word. Deiform beatitude is incomparab!y superior to natural angelic beatitude. The angels who are in heaven now do, as a matter of fact, enjoy supernatural bliss. They have it because they were gratuitously raised to the supernatural order, like men, with the .gift of sanctifying grace. If they had not received it and if in their period of probation they had remained good, they would now be in a state of natural angelic beatitude. In that condition their knowledge, love, and enjoyment of the Supreme Tr~th, Goodness, and Beauty would be mediate, that is through a medium (their "own essences); and though it would be an inexpressibly happy state, there would be nothing in it of the imme-diate vision of God which they now have and which makes them immensely more blessed. Of course their love also would be of another kind, and so would their enjoyment of the divine beauty. The greatest angel that God in all His ¯ omnipotence could create, endowed with all possible gifts and privileges except grace, and .given the highest possible measure of the beatitude that would be natural to an angel, would indeed be inconceivably happy, but immeasurably below any creature enjoying the minimum of God's own special kind of bliss and glory. Likewise, if men had not. been elevated to the super-natural order and destiny, and if throughout their proba-tion they had remained morally good, after death they would be admitted to a state of natural human beatitude, that is,¯ happiness proportionate to the capacities and merits of human nature. They would be united to God. through knowledge, love, and fruition. But this knowledge, being in accordance with the nature of the human, spirit, would be rational, abstractive, discursive. They would 312 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE know the Creator, not', directly and immediately or from Himself, but from His works and effe,cts. Given such~ and such artistry, the Artist who made it all must be as perfect and lovely and admirable, and even more so. And of course their love of God arid their enjoyment of His beauty could not go beyond the limits and character of their knowledge. The relations of man to God would be different from what they are now:~ he would not be a son, nor a~friend, nor a spouse of God. But natural bumanbeatitude would still be beatitude, and it is well to try tO suspect to'some incipient extent what that means. Even-naturally the human mind and soui have certain capacities and needs and longings for the Infinite; that is why no quantity and no quality of cre-ated goods, however great, can satisfy the human heart. any form of beatitude all aspirations and desires would have to be satiated, and completely so. O~ie would kn~w everything that one would like to know--think of how much that would be, and what an intense thrill it would bring! and one would have everything that his heart could desire. Any kind ofbeatitude would involve perfect satisfaction, and that forever. Since in this mad world we can never have anything even remotely like. a beatific experience, the onIy way in which we can attempt to gain some slight inkling of what it would feel like to be enjoying beatitude, is to gather together in thought all the pleasures and joyful experi-ences that we have ever had, to add to them all the possible delights that we can imagine, and then say, "After all, beatitude is something incomparably grehter and grander' and more glorious than all that!" To possess angelic beatitude would be something marvelously greater still! What then must it be to share in the inconceivable divine beatitude of the most Blessed Trin;ty! "What eye hath 313 G, AUGUSTINE ELLARD not ~seen, nor ear bath heard--what hath. not entered into the heart of man--all these things hath God prepared for them that love him" (I.Corinthians 2:9). Grace, the Seed o: Glor'~t The supernatural life, or the process of deification, exists in two stages of evolution. The fully developed or mature stage is found in the Blessed in heaven; the other, still imperfectly, developed and still immature, is found the Just, that is,. in those who are adorned with sanctifying grace in this world. Fundamentally it is the same life that animates both, even though the observable ~differences may lead one to think the contrary. "Behold what manner of love the Father hath given us, that we should be called children-of God; and. such we are . Beloved, now we are ~hildren of God, and it.hath not yet been manifested what we shall be. We know that if he be manifested, we shall be like him, because we shall see him even as he is" (I John 3:1, 2). "Grace is the seed of glory." That one and the same life can present very diverse appearances, is easily shown from biology. Compare, say, an orange seed germinating in the ground and the beautiful blossoming orange tree that it will be in due time; or the ugly caterpillar crawling in the dusl~ and the lovely butter-fly flitting, about later; or the tadpole and the frog; or, the .case that pleased St. Theresa .so much; the repulsive silk-worm and the delightful little white moth. Do little birds that are. just breaking out of their tiny eggs have that kind of life that is characterized by flight? There is sometl~ing analogous in every human life. Is there reason, in a little child or infant? Evidently in some sense there is. Other-wise, he would not be a little rational animal nor possess human dignity .nor have rights nor be the term of obliga-tions on the part of others. One may go further and point out that there is identity of life in a perfect man and in the microscopic little embryo in his mother's womb that once was he. When the child grows up, he will still be the same being, the same person: and, though his life will b~ different enough, it will not, be another life. Reason is there, but it is latent, undeveloped, not yet full-grown. Ttiough he cannot reason now, before long he will; and notice that every normal act by which his development° is p~omoted contributes to bringing about his full-fledged life of intelligence. So a man with sanctifying.grace in this life cannot see God now, but with every act that increases that grace, his power 'to behold and to enjoy God in eternity is enhanced. In the life Of the Blessed in heaven and ~he life of the ~lust on earth, the fundamental principle from which all activity issues is the same, namely, sanctifying grace. The infused virtues, thequasi-faculties by which that activity is exer-cised, are the same, except that ih the case of the Blessed,~ in place of faith and hope, there is the "light of glory." This is the highest and last grace to be received, and upon its rece~ion beatific life at once begins. The "light of glory" is a participation in tlie intellectuality of God, immediately ~enabling one to contemplate the Infinite. It is often com-pared to a telescope or microscope. The activities of the Bleised and of the 3ust are of course different, but inti-mately related. Even here, in faith there is a certain pa~r~ ticipation in the divine knowledge that no creature could attain by any natural effort; acquaintance with the mystery of the Trinity is an instance of it. Corresponding to actual possession of God in heaven there ~is here, in the virtue of hope, a right 'to that possession and a happy anticipatiofi of it: neither of these could be natural in any creature. The same.charity persists'throughout both stages of thd super-natural life. Between the beatific acts of those in heaven 315 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD and the supernatural acts of the 2ust there is a certain com-munityor propor~tion, an identity in being or, so to speak, in material, invirtue ofwhich every ~ supernatural act per-formed here is a preparation for beatific activity or, an increase of it. Every meritorious act nbw means more of the vision: of God ineternity. It is to establish this com-munity or proportion in super-nature between super, natural acts here and divinely beatific activity there; that supernatural grace is absolutely necessary for every salutary act. "Without me you can do nothing" (John-15:5). Difference between Natural and Supernatural Suppose that ~ man and a horse are looking at the same thing: the physiological processes of vision, in eyes,, nerves, ' and br~iin, will be about the same in both. In the horse there will not be more than the sensation of vision, but the man the vision will be immediately: and naturally fol- Idwed up by a spiritual idea, immensely different in being and'character from the horse's or even the man's phantasm. In some similar way, in the natural man, not elevated by grace, there will not be more than his natural acts, whereas in the supernaturalized man acts which appear to.be the same or nearly the same will be followed up eventually and, , as it were, naturally, by beatific acts like those which con-stitute no l~ss than the beatitude of God. Grace really gives men a new and fourth kind of life, and to the~ angels a sec-ond kind': a deified life. A fervent supernatural man may wonder why, if thus there be divinity in his acts,, why in fact, if he be, so to speak,, full of divinity, he.does not feel conscious of it. If he did, his life of faith would be quite different. He has to take it on faith, like the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, that his supernatural acts are immensely different from his natural acts. All human knowledge',comes through ~the 316 THE SUPERNATURAL! LIFE senses; we have no di'rectapprehension of spiritual realities. Even the spirituality of the human soul is not perceived, but proved by reasoning from thechara~t~r of its acts! It still more impossible to experience spiritual realities that are supernatural~ and just because they are supernatural. Cer-tain mystics, namely those who. are in the state termed technically~'"the mystical marriage," are said to experience habitually the fact that their, supernatural activity is a par-ticipation in the life and activity of God. Unconsciousness of a gift is no sign that'it does not exist or is not present. ~A baby boy born to the Queen of England wofild have royal dignit~r of the first magnitude ~ind immense imperial rights, and at the same time know nothing of them. Some years' ago the Dionne quintuplets possessed an absolutely unique distinction, to say nothing bf much money, and they were the cynosure of world-wide attention. but it all mhde slight, difference in their little consciousnesses. Wherever there is a distinct sort of life, there must also be a differencd of underlying structure. If the activities or functions, that is, the physiology, be different, there must also be an anatomical difference. Elephants and mice can-not have the .same joys and sorrows. Neither can rabbits and eagles, nor alligators and kangaroos. N0~ Can men with rational souls and animal~ without them. -Men with the experiences of the supernatural life and men without them cannot be just the same in structure. Elernents of Supernatural Organism Theologians generally consider that there are fifteen elements in the permanent organism or mechanism of the, supernatural life. Among these sanctifying grace is first and fundamental. Sanctifying grace is best conc~:,ved as a participation in the divine nature, that 'is, in what we dis- 317 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD tinguisff as the fundamental principle of vital activity~ God. .It is to the supernatural life approximately human nature (body plus soul) is to our naturalhfiman life. It is the Substratum or basis or root, out of which everything in the supernatural life somehow "comes. It often compared to the soul: as the soul is the principle human life, so sanctifying grace is~ the primary internal principle of the supernatural life. One who has it will also have everything else. Every living nature must have vital power~ or facul-, ties also. For example, dogs have the power to see, hear, and so on, even when they are not exercising those powers ¯ because, say, they are asleep. Men have power to think and will, even when they are not using those faculties. The faculties of. the supernatural life are the infused virtues. They give one the permanent power to act supernaturally, in a way that is ¯somehow divine. They are not, like natural virtues, dispositions acquired by practice, to act with readiness and facility. They are really new powers do something quite different and superigr. Commonly seven infused virtues are enumerated, three theological and ~four moral. Activity of the theological virtues unites one directly with God. Faith is the intellectual theological virtue, ,faculty of. knowing supernaturally. It gives one ~ participa-tion in knowledge that is peculiar to God and naturally not accessible. In the light of it, the supernatural life is intel- ,ligently, consciously, and freely lived. Hope makes it pos-sible to desire and to seek the Supreme Good in a way that is supernatural. It gives one a sort of anticipated .possession of God and the beatific life. "Whoso hath this hope on him, halloweth himself, even as he is hallowed" (I John 3:3). Charity enables one to love the Infinite Goodness supern~aturally; and is a participation in God's own mode 318 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE of loving. Without, it one could still love God, but naturally, not supernaturally. The infused moral vir-tues-- prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude--give one the power to use creatures rightly and in a way that is positively conducive to the beatific vision of God. The gifts of the Holy Spirit~wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord --are so many more permanent super-faculties. They dis-pose one to follow the i~stinct and motion of the Holy Spirit, as the infused moral virtues dispose one to follow the dictates of reason enlightened and elevated by faith'. The gifts are more passive than.the virtues, and their opera-tion as contrasted with that of the virtues is often likened to that of wind upon the sails of a ship, whereas exercising the virtues would be like rowing. The effect of the gifts, at least when highly developed, may be compared to the incommunicable skill of a genius in music: he can teach the technique---corresponding to the.virtues---~but that super-ior, indefinable, something that comes with genius he can- -not impart tb another. In the more advanced degrees of sanctity and contemplat.ion the gifts are especially active and important. ¯ Actual grace, is the counterl~art to activity in the natural life. It puts a certain divinity into one's activity. Unlike the forms of grace hitherto considered, it is not a habit, not something permanent. Like any particular form of activity, it comes and goes. Hence it cannot be found in a sleeping person, for example, nor in a baptized-infant, nor in the mentally deranged. As sound stimulates one's ears to hear, prevenient actual grace comes, when the oc-casion i~ apt to stimulate one's natural and supernatural faculties into action. !t arouses, or consists in, such ideas in the mind and indeliberate impulses in the will as are conducive to one's spiritual advancement. In this sense G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD actual grace enters into consciousness, whereas none of the other kirids of grace do. Where there is no. thinking or willing that makes for salvation, there is no actual grace at work. If then one respbnd to the stimulation, consent of the will 'and execution of the decision are made with the help of c~oncomitant actual grace. Since consent is from the will, it is vital, free, and human; since it is also from grace, it is divinized. Grace makes one think and will, like God. An example may .help to illustrate the functioning of grace. Suppose that Doctors A and B, while driving in the coun.try, happen to come upon a man who has just been seriously wounded in an accident.and is lying in great dis-tress beside the highway. This is the apt occasion. Dr. A is an agnostic, but a kindly man, whereas Dr. B is a devout Catholic and in the state of grace. It is proper that the doctors should do what they can for the injured man, whether they will be paid for it or not. Such is the fact: so God judges and wills. In this simple case, naturally and without grace, any kind-hearted man could make the same judgment and-feel inclined to give his aid. Dr. A responds to the occasion generously; and his. act is one of natural nobility. It may even be said that he judges and wills as God does. But it is all in the natural order, there is no divine entity in it, and he cannot expect as a result an increase of the beatific vision. Dr. B joinsDr. A in helping the man. Presumably his acts, apparently similar to Dr. A's, will be supernaturalized by grace. If his motive be supernatural, they certainly will. Then grace will enter into the acts of mind and will by which he sees the need of giving aid and feels inclined to give° it, Thus far prevenient grace in some sense will be at work. ~ Then he would &lib-erately decide to help the injured man, and this decision would be made with concomitant grace. The appropriate infused virtues or gifts, in this case at least charity.and pru- 32O THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE dence, would be operative, andthe whole process would be sustained and dignified by sanctifying grace. Dr. B's acts of judgment and will would be like' God's, not only in their character as judgments or volitions, but also in the very entity which constitutes them and places them in the order of being of the beatific vision. The contrast between a super-natural actand a natural act may becompared,to the differ-ence between a consecrated host and one that is not conse-crated. Though there may be little or no observable dif- "ference, the real, interior difference is very great indeed and is known, not ~by experience, but by faith. Conclusion Thus far little or nothing has been said about what we might call the properties of the supernatural life: the dig-. nity that belongs to an adopted child of God, the plane of intimacy with God on which such a ~child is entitled,~to live, membership in the Mystica! Body of Christ, and so forth. Nor have we given a complete idea of the workings.of ac-tual grace. For the adequate portrayal of the supernatfiral life in all its pha~es, a treatment of these subjects v~ould be necessary: but this treatment Would take Us far bey.ond.the limits set for the present article. However, one practical and valuable conclusion may well be mentioned here. Granted that the supernatural life is a real participation in the life and activity proper to God, it is easy to see what its supreme law must be: to imitate G6d, as far as possible; to think and judge ~nd will as He thinks and,judges and wills; and to ~ooperate with Him,in carrying out, as far as depends on us, His most magnificent cosmic plan, for His eternal glory and for the deiform beati-tude of His rational creatures. 321 Supplying Days of Absence I:rorn t:he Novifiat:e Adam C. Ellis, S.2. THE CI-IURCH is very solicitous about the proper training of novices in the religious life. Hence she demands of all religious institutes that they devote at least'one entire year to the spiritual formation of candidates before the profession of vows, and this canonical ~tear of novitiate is a requisite for the validity of the first profession of temporary vows (cf. canons 555 and 572). An absence of more than thirty darts interrupts the canonical year, and the novitiate must ,be started over, even though the novice remained outside the novitiate house with the permission of superiors and for grave reasons (cf. canon 556, § 1). When the days of absence do not exceed thirty it is desirable, and in some cases necessary, that they be supplied before the profession of first, vows. Here is the text of the Code regardihg such da~s of absence: "If the novice, with the permission of superiors or constrained by force, has p~ssed more than fifteen days but not more than thirty days even interruptedly outside the precincts of the house under the obedience of the superior, it is necessary and sufficient for the vdidlty of the novitiate t~at he supp|y the number of days so passed outside; if for a period not exceedincj fifteen days, the supplementing for this period can be pr~escribed by superiors, but it is not necessary for validity."~ How are darts "of absen~ ~ountecl? Canon 32, n. 1 tells us that a day consists of 2"4 hours counting contin.uously from midnight, to .midnight. Hence parts of days are not counted as canonical days. If a novice goes toa hospital on Monday motrting, and returns to the novitiate on Saturday afternoon of the same week, he has been absent for four days'only. Monday and Saturday are not counted since 322 ^~SENC~ FRO~ Novm^~ ¯the absenceon those days did not amount to a period of 24 hours counting from midnight to midnight. When must the days of absence be supplied? When they.exceed fifteen, but are not over thirty. Hence if a novice has been absent 'exactly fifteen days, it is not required for the validity of the subsequent profession, that' these days be supplied. However, it is well to note h~re that. all days of absence, whether continuous or not, must be counted. Every period of absence ~from midriight to mid- ~ night counts as a day of absence, even though these periods of absence be separated by months. How many days of absence must be Supplied? If the novice has been absent more than fifteen days; all the days of absence must be supplied. Thus, if a novite had been absent twenty days, it would not suffice to make up five days. The total number of days of absenceS'must be sup~ plied before the novice can make a valid profession. Are there am.! exceptions? No, there are not. Even though the novice is absent with the permission of his superior or constrained by force, the days of absence must be counted. Thus,' if the novices have a villh in which they spend some days during the~ summei together with the master ot~ novices, these days are counted as days o.f absence, since a villa is not a novitiate house. On the other hand'a distinction must be made between the novitiate house" arid the novitiate proper, or that part of the house which is destined for the exclusive use of the novices. The canon says that days spent outside the novitate house, must be supplied; it does not say that days spent outside th~ pre-cincts of the novitiate must be supplied, if the novice. remains in the house in which the novitiate is located., For, example, if a novice who is seriously ill is transferred from the novitiate quarters to the community infirmary which is located in another part of the house, the days spent in the 323 ADAM C. ELLIS ° ¯ infirmary outside the novitiate quarters would not be counted as days of absence, since he remains in the house in which the novitiate is located. While it is truethat canon 556, § 4 states that the novi-tiate is not interrupted by the transfer of a novice from one novitiate house to another,of the same institute, it is equally true,~ that the days spent on the journey from one novitiate house to another must be counted as days of absence"(cf. Code Commission, July 13, 1930). There. is no contradiction here. It is or~e thing to say that a,novice who has begun his novitiate in one novitiate house of the institute may~ continue that novitiate in another novitiat~ house of the same institute, for instance, in that~ of another province. It is quite a distinct thing to say that.the days spentin traveling from one novitiate house to another mu~st be counted as days of absence from the novitiate. As a matter of fact the novice is,absent from the n6vitiate house while he is making the journey to the second novitiate house,-, hence these days. must be counted, as days of absence. The,, contrary opinion which was held by some authors is no 'longer tenable after the decision of the Code Commission mentioned above. Absence of fifteen days or less. If the numbe~ of days of absence does not exceed fifteen, it is not necessary for the validity of the .subsequent profession~that they be supplied. However, the Code permits the superior to~ prescribe that these days of absence be made up; but not under pain of invalidity of the subsequent profession. The superior not obliged to require the supplying of these days of absence. Thus hemay allow a"novice who has: been absent fourteen days because of illness or for some other just reasoffto take his, vows together with his class a't.the end 6f the canonical year. ¯ " ,' Absence during second ~lear of novitiate. The legisla-,' 324 A~ENCE FROM ~OVITIATJ~ tion of the Code.applies to the first or canbnical year only. It is left to the constitutions of each institute to regulate_' absences.during the second0y(ar of novitiate; The Instruc-tion on the Second Year of Novitiate, issued by the Sacred Congregation of Religious on November 3, ~921, permits the novice to leave the novitiate house-for, training in the wokks of the institute and for the.testing of his capabilities. This permiision is granted, however, only on condition that-the constitutions allow ~the novice to be thus trained and tested in another house of the institute. Furthermore, the Instruction prescribes tha~ the novice must be recalled to the novitiate house at least two months b~fore the day of profession in order that bemay prepare himself properly and strengthen himself in the spirit of his vocation. Conclusion: In this commentary on canon 556, n. 2, wehave stated the requirements of the law regarding the supplying of days of absence~ from the n6.vitiate~ We.,have seen ufider what conditions such~ days of absence must be made up in order that tl~e subsequent profession be valid. In other cases such?days ,,of absence need not be supplied unless superiors so prescribe. Only complete days of 24 bouts, counting from midnight to midnight, are counted as canonical days. V This does not mean that superiors should disregard the spirit of the law which demands that the novices spend the entire ,time of the canonical year in the " novitiate,~. . , ands. undergo the ,strict .tr~aining prescribed in other canons of the Code. To~ allow a novice to spend hours of the day or night outside the novitiate house in the perfbrmance of the works of the institute, or 'in attending classes, is contrary to the' spirit of this legislation, even though these 16eriods of .~absence "do not amount tofull canonical' days, and co~sequdntly are not to be counted i~s days of absence which must be supplied. Such conduct, would be detrimental not qnly to the spiritual wellbeing 325 ¯ ADAMC. ELLIS of the individual novice, but more so to the morale of the institute as a whole0 since the spirit of the institute will be no better than that Of-its individual members. Superiors can promote the welfare of their institute in no better way than by carrying out. the prescriptions' of the Church regarding the novitiate, keeping in mind the spirit of the law, "for the letter kills, but the spirit gives life" (2 Corin-thians 3 : 6). IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS (Even if gou don't ordinaril~/ read "'Important Announcements, please read. these;) Subscription-Renewals Our~ next issue (November 15, 1942) will be the last number of Volume I Of the.REVIEW. For the majority of our readers, that will mean the expiration 6f their.subscriptions. If your subscriptign will expire with that number and you intend to renew it, you can do us an immense service bg renewing now. By renewing now,-instead of waiting, you will "help us to take care of the renewals more efficiently and to make 'more accurate cal-culations for the printing of Volume II. Just send your check or a morley order, together with your name and address. Thank gout¯ Back Numbers We can no longer supply a complete set.of back numbers of the REVIEW. The January. ~nd March numbers are entirely out, and .there are only. a few remaining copies of, the othei numbers. Many of our recent subscribers want the back numbers. Perhaps you can help them. If you do not intend to save or bind your, back numbers, you may be willin.g.to give them to these new ~ubscribers. If you wish to do this, you may send the back numbers to us, and we will transfer, them gratis to the new subscribers who have requested them. THE EDITORS. 326 The "New Commandment:" ot: Love Matthew, Germing, S,J. ~'~'HE gospel written by "the disciple whom Jesu~ loved" i| has been styled a spiritual gospel It was so desig-nated already in the time of Clement of Alexandria (i50-220 A.D.). Several reasons may be assigned for thee design.ation,.but the one that is pertinent to this drticle is the fact that St. dohn tells us so.much of the.loveof God,and t14i~ neighbor, and doits so in the very words of our Savior. "A new commandment I give you, that you love one another: that as I have loved you, you also love one another. By. this will all men know that you are my disciples, if you havelove for one another" (,lohn 13: 34, 35). Out'Lord did not me~n that the precept of loving one another had not existed in th~ Old .Law, but that He was giving His disciples a new standard and a new motive in observing it. They were to love. one another as Hehad loved them, that is, with' the same kind of love, thotigh they would not be able to love in tl4d same degree.~ And 'this lo~e was to be a test of their ~a~herence.and loyalty to k Him. Again, "As the Father has loved md[ I also ha're loved you. Abide in my love. If ygu keep my command-ments you will abide in my love, as I also have kept my Father's commandment and abide in his love " This is my commandment that you love one another as. I have loved y6u. Greater love,than this no one has, that one lay down his life for his friends. You are my frieiadsif yoti do the things I command you" (J01~n 15:9, 10,,12-~15). And in his" Epistles the beloved disciple again and again recurs to the subject of 10re love of God and of the breth-ren. "This is the message you have h~ard from the begin-ning, that we sh6uld love one another. He who do~s not 327 MATTHEW GERMING love abides in death. M~r dear children, let us not love in word, neither with the tongue, but in deed and in truth. And this is hi~ commandment, that we. should believe in the name of his Son 'jesus Christ, and love one another, even as 'he gave us commandment. And he who keeps his commandments abides in God, a'nd God in him" (! 'jOhn 3:11, 15, 18, 23, 24). "Beloved, let us love~ofie another, for love is from God . He Who does not love does not know God; for God is love. In this is the lo~;e,~not that we have loved God, but that he has fi'rst lovedus and sent his Sdn a propitiation for bur sins. Beloved, if Godhas so ¯ loved us, we alsoought to love one another" (I ,John 4:7, 8,~10. 11). "Special Import t:or Relioibus There is no mistaking the import and force of these words. Love of one an~other is hot a counsel, of per~fe¢- tion: it is a c0mmandmentin the strict sense of she"word, a commandment which our Savior emphasized by frequent r~petition justas a teacher is wont to emphasize an impor-tant point in a lesson. There is, probably, no. gospel pre-. cept which He incul~ated With ~more frequent and loving insistence than the commandmen~ of love.- This alone"qs clear evidence of its j,.~upreme importance, in the Christian life. For persons, consecratedto God, devoted to H~°~pe-cial~ service and leading a common life,, the importanceof mutual love can hardly be exaggerated.~ It may be said without~ hesitation that th~ ~happiness of"a religi0us~'com-mui4ity depends largely on the practice" of.this-virtue. Brotherly_love in a hotis~means that its members think and speak well ~)f 6ne anothei?, are"kinci and cc~ns{derate and patient in tiae[r relations with or/e another, ever ready to Serve and acc6~fiamodate whenever there is ~eed or .occasion. Where-this ~piritreigns, there reigns the ~ace of Christ~ the peace which the angels announced at His birth ahd 328 which He Himself bequeathed ~to his Apostles when He said: "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. When the members of a community live in charity, they possess this peace of Chiist and experience the. truth of the saying of Holy~ Scripture: "How good and pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in unity" (Ps. 132). Then they do their best work for the cause of Christ, for their own perfection, for one another and. for the common good. ~ :. I do not mean to say~ that peace and charity remove-all the0hard things'from their path in life. They do not. Hard-ships remain, and difficulties may remain. The religious life is not an easy life for the natural man. This we ought to realize from the start. Of its very." nature the life of the vows involves restrictions that are irksome :at times to flesh and blood, that try a person's good will and,. the strength of that will. Duties and observances, some of which are naturally distasteful, do not disappear ~from a community in which charity prevails, but they 'become easier to comply with. Duties are performed with good will and joy of heart; °difficulties are borne ~as part of the day's work for the love of God by re.~son of the charity of Christ that reigns within and all around the individual members of such a community. On the other hand, when there is not charity in a group~ of religious, large or small', then there is aloofness, suspicion, misunderstanding, carping and faultfinding, each looking out for self. Arid selfishness spells the death 0f brotherly love. Highly important and salutary as mutual love is for our home life in our relations with one another, it is equally so in our dealings with, people of the world. Worldly~ interests as such are a matter of indifference to us religious, but there is one big interest to which none of ~us can be indifferent__the interest~ or interests of Christ and His 329 "MATTHEW GERMING Church~ The expression'is comprehensive'and'apparently vague, but there is nothing vague about its real meaning. It means the spread of the knowled~ge and love of Our Lord 2esus Christ in the minds and hearts of all men. It means the endeavor to do men and women some spiritual good, to make them think and provide for their immortal souls. And ~s men are so constituted' that they are unable~to think of their souls v~hile their bodies are ill or starving, it is our duty sometimes to interest ourselves in their bo, dily wel-fare also. These are the things to which the religious of all active orders in the Church have once fo~ all dedicated their lives, their every effort of soul and body. When duty car-ries us into a vast variety of work, much of which of itself is purely secular in character, we must not become confused in our aims and lose our perspective. Our ultimate purpose in all .things is spiritual. ~'This spiritual purpose ought to ¯ be the~very soul of all our external activity. It need not and cannot alw~iys be present in our thoughts, but'it should never be far removed from them. Now charity, in the sense of kindness of speech and manner and whole conduct, is a powerful means of doing spiritual good to people of every class and condition. It is a means that lies within the reachof every religious, even of the infirm members of a community. They can do much by their gentleness and patience in the way of spreading the good odor of Christ. L~irger opportunities fall to those who are in positions of active duty, whether their work brings them in contact with outsiders or is limited to serv-ices within .the cl6ister, where they meet'only their fellow religious. All can be kind and gracious in speech and man-ner, first of all, to their own--and this is of great impor-tancemand then to everyone else. Externs who know little ofreligious but now and then have occasion to' observe their conduct are decidedly edified 330 THE "NEW COMMANDMENT~' and drawn closer to Christ when they find by actual experi-ence that these men and women in strange garb are invari-ably kind and considerate, speak well of-one another and of other peop.l~e, are patient and forbearing even in trying circumstances, never petty or selfish, peevish or irascible. It is well for religious to remember that persons of the world when coming to a convent or other religious house are all eyes and ears. Some of them are on, the alert co catch a glimpse of the manner in which religious treat one another. They make it a point to observe closely, and they comment freely among themselves and others on what they have observed. Favorable impressions received ¯ add to the esteem in which they hold the religious life and are not seldom the cause or occasion of spiritual good in a variety of,~ways which we,never thought of. They clear awayanti-Catholic prejudice, possibly d~evelop a latent voc~ation to the religious life or the priesthood, bring a heft- ~ tating soul into the true fold, or a negligent Catholic back to the sacraments. Good example in th.e matter of kind-ness rarely fails to produce some beneficial sp!ritual result though this result may never' become known. The foufiders of religious orders were not unmindful of this. Everyone Who has read the life of St. Francis knows that he regarded good example as a Silent sermon. St. Igna- , tius went fully as far as the Poverello of Assisi when in the constitutions of his order he reminded his followers that they ought to accomplish even more good by their example than by their preaching. And St. ,John Baptist de la Salle set dowi~ good example as one of the three principal means by which the religious educator was to exercise his zeal in dealing with his pupils. Don Quite extraordinary for the spiritual influence he exerted over others by his kind ways was St. John Bosco, 331 educator, and founder of two religious congregations in the nineteenth century. He often used kindness as a first ,approach ~to boys and young men whom he wanted to draw to better ways of life. One day. the Cardinal Archbishop of Turin, ' interested dn 3oh~ Bosco's educational ~work, asked him about his methodS. The saint's answer was to ~the effect that it-was necessary, first of all, to interest one-self in the boys and~ their doings. One must be good and kind to them, and thus gain their confidence. "'Gain their c~nfidence, °' muse~l the Cardinal. "How do you get near them?" he inquired. The two were riding in the~Cardi-hal's ~arriage through' the city of Turin. "Is there any place in this0neighborhood," asked 3ohn Bosco, "in'which there is a group of boys? . Plenty of them in the Piazza del. popolo," .replied the Cardinal. And with that he directed th~ driver to go to the square mentioned. Yes; there were the boys playing a game. As soon as the ~:ar-riage stopped,-Don° Bosco stepped out, the Cardinal remaining inside to watch proceedings~. o When" they saw Don Bosc~ appr~oaching, the lads scampered a~ay. Their visitor had foreseen tha~t they would do this, but he was able to hail a few loiteiers, spoke kindly to them, and ~heir favorable reaction soon brought back the whole group. Then he distributed little presents to the urchins, put in a few questions about their game, their fathers and mothers, and so forth, and said abrupt!y: "Com~, boys, cohtinue your game, and let me loin in." Tucking up his cassock he played with them some fifteen minutes. As a seminarian he had been at pains to become an expert playe~ at many ghmes for no other reason than to be ready for .just such occasions as the present one. The boys asked him to stay longer, but he must not keep the Cardinal waiting. Before leaving his Youthful compan-ions, cautiously and in his usual agreeable, manner he spoke 332 THE "NEW COMMANDMENT" to .them about going to church' and to confession, saying their prayers, and so forth. As the boys saw him turn to depart, they quickly formed a double line an~d escorted their guest back to the carriage, which soon drove away amid the cheers of these lusty young ItaliansI. Not all men can do what St: 3ohn Bosco did, but all can learn from him the lesson that in.order to benefit young "people in a spiritual way it is necessary to approach them with a sympathetic attitude, interest oneself in them and tfieir innocent pursuits, and in this way build up confi-dence. ~' Love is in the Will In considering our own charity, we should not think of love as a sentiment, in whatever sense wemay under2 stand this word. In reality true love resides essentially in the will. It may exist with-out any sensible emotion; it may also be highly emotional. This is true of both natural and supernatural love. And the emotion, whether super-natural or natural, may by present but not manifest itself in the sense faculties. Love, I said, resides essentially in the soul. It con-sists therefore in cherishing the person loved, appreciating and esteeming him, wishigg him well and consequently thinking and speaking well of him, .doing him good, .as far as lies in one's power. When we do this for a purely nat-ural reason, our love is of the natural type. If, for exampl.e, we love a fellow religious because ofhis or her gifts of mind or disposition--twit and humor, ability of entertaining and amusing others---our love and esteem of such a one is nat-ural. This means, in the first place, that ,it may merit, no heavenly reward. In order that an action may certainly deserve a reward in heaven, the motive itself of the act, even IAuffra~', Blessed John Bosco, c. 14. , 33'3 MATTHEW GERMING one that is naturally good, must be supernatural. The thought contained in our Blessed Lord's words, "As long as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me," furnishes us such a motive. Secondly, in the case of religious living in community, purely natural 10ve may lead to uncharitableness: For if we associate with those only who are most congenial and entertaining, we shall instinctively avoid others who are less congenial and com-panionable, and this is selfish and may. easily be unchari-table. Brotherly love requires that everyone be agreeable to others to the best of his or her ability. Were Christ our Lord in our midst at recreation time, He would seek out the most lonesome soul in the room, and would comfort and encourage such a one. Our Savior regarded the natural motives one may have for loving others quite insu~cient for His followers. In the Sermon on the Mount we read: "I say to you, love your enemies . that you may be the children'of your Father 'in heaven, who makes l~is sun to rise on the good and the evil, and sends rain on the just and the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward shall-you have? Do not even the publicans do that?" (Matthew 5:44-46). All men are the children of God, adopted brothers and sisters of our Lord ,lesus Christ, destined for eternal happiness. As St. Paul writes in his first epistle to Timothy (2:4), God "wishes all rne"n to be. saved and tO come to the knowledge of the truth" not only Catholics, but non- Catholics too and non-Christians, pagans and infidels all o~¢er the~world. Not all are in actual possessio.n of sancti-fying grace, or faith, hope and charity, or the Other virtues, arid of the wonderful gifts of the Holy Ghost. But the souls of all of them bear the stamp--so to say---of an immortal and supernatural destiny. We may not exclude them from our love. Nor must we think that 'they are 334 THE"NEW COMMANDMENT" incapable of doing good works, or that the good works they do are worthless, do not bring .upon them grace and blessing from their beneficent Father in heaven. That would be against the teaching and example of our Divine Lord. The story of the good Samaritan illustrates this. admirably. All know the incident as told by Christ Him-self. Com'mentatorson the gospel are of the opinion that it is based on facts. This good Samaritan, who took pity On the man lying by the wayside, wounded and robbed,. was not a Jew, had not th~ Jewish religion. In our man-ner of speaking, he was a heretic and schismatic. But our Savior commended his conduct because of his compassion and charity. There are many good Samaritans at the present day, men and women who, in ,spite of their handicap in not having the true faith, devote time and effort and worldly means to, the relief of the poor and suffering children of men, who are also the children of our Father in heaven: We should not shrug ,our shoulders in depreciation of what they do. Anyone who does that may expect~to hear from Christ the words He spoke to the self-sufficient hwyer: "Go, and do thou also in like manner." We ought rather to praise charitable works no matter who does them, and glove the doers of them credit for a good ,motive. Who knows.that they have not a good in~ention, even a super-natural one? And even if they are acting from purely nat-ural principles, still natural virtue is better than no virtue at all. R~lieving distress is a virtue, at least a,natural one. It is a benefit done to others, and God will reward it in some way. The unselfishness of these charitable people may, dispose their souls for the reception of the. true faith. The Cornmunit~ is a Famitg Every community, of religious is rightly called a reli-gious family. Its members bear to each other a~ relation- 335 MATTHEW GERMING . ship analogous to that which obtains between, the indi-viduals of a family consisting of father, mother, and chil-dr. en. The bond of union between members of the same reli-gious family is a moral and supernatural one. Not 9nly are the.y united~as are all the faithful~by the bond Of divine charity through which they are incorpgrated.in the mysti-cal body of Christ, but they are closely bound together by their common consecration to God and by their~observance of one and the same rule of life. In such a family we expect kindness and charity to abound. And they will abound as,~long as its members are ~true to their-consecration, and are faithful in observing their rules and regulations and the orders of their superiors, all of which have been wisely ordained for their spiritual and temporalwell-being. This in. general. But I will add a point which is definite and particular. Religious must be unselfish, unselfish in their thoughts~ in their words, and in their dealings with one another. One founder of a religious order wants his fol-lowers to be so unselfish as "in all things to yield to others thee better part, esteeming all in their hearts superior to themselves, striving to see in everyone the' image of our Lord 3esus Christ." ¯ ¯ ,, As for the last recommendation, religious will be much helped in this striving if, in their every~'day lives, they make a Serious endeavor to fix their attention not on What "is faulty or less worthy in thdir fellow religious, but on what is commendable and worthy of imitation.:~ This practide of seeing in others what is good and praiseworthy is not only commendable in itself, but is at "the same time an effective means of counteracting the common tendency to think and judge ill' of others. In the Book of Exodus (32:22), Aaron speaking of the 3ews, says to Moses: "Thou know-est this people, that they are prone to evil." If we restrict the meaning of the statement to speaking and judging 336 THE'°~EW COMMANDMENT" adversely of other~, we may say that it is true of well-nigh all men. We find its parallel even in the intellectual order. "The ready belief in ,falsehood, and the slow acceptance of truth, is among the most observed traits of human nature.''z We muit beware of, the propensity,, to think and judge unfavorably of others. We must never ~unnecessaiily and deliberately entertain discreditable thoughts either of our fellow religious or of other persons; most of all, must we never express them in words. This:would be criticism and criticism is. out of place in .a religious community. We must not criticise our equals. Our Lord forbids it. "Do not juc~g, He says; "and you shall, not be judged; do not condemn, and you shall not be condemned" (Luke 6:37). We must not criticise superiors; the reason is the same: Cl~rist forbids it. This is the supernatural reason and is all-su~cient. But there are natural reasons also for.not criticising the decisions or actions and policies of superiors. They have knowledge and information concerning,things to be done which.we have not. Moreover, they take int6 consideration, as they are bound to do, every angle of an event or situation, and the welfare of the whole commun-ity, whereas weare often satisfied to view the case from the particular aspect that affects us. Superiors bear heavy bur-dens for our sakes; we owe them support and cooperation, which we can give them 'by our ready and willing obedi-ence. Let us ~heed.the words of St. Paul:. "I therefore exhort you that you walk worthy of the vocation in Which you are called, with all~ humility and meekness, with patience, 'supporting one another in charity" (Ephesians 4:2)" And these of St. Peter: "Before all things have a constant mutual charity among yourselves; for charity covers a multitude of sins" (I Peter 4:8). ~Frands-'Thompson, Saint 19natius Logola, c.° 12, p. 283. ~ 33~ to Assist Dying Non-Catholics Gerald Kelly, S.J. ACCORDING to the doctors, it was certain that the patient would not l~ave the hospital alive: Accord-ing to the hospital register, it was equally cert~iin that the man was not a Catholic. In fact, as Sister Mary later ~liscovered, he knew little about God, less about religion in general, and-nothing about the Catholic Church. But his disposition, was excellent. In the. subsequent weeks of his lingering illness he showed eagerness and a great capacity foi instruction. He expressed an earnest desire to enter the Catholic Church, was baptized, received Extreme.Unction and.the Holy Euchi~rist, and died a truly pious death. Thus goes the story of the ideal way of providing for dying non-Catholics: to bring them to open profession of the Catholic Faith and to confer upon them the Sacraments that they need and are capable of receiving. It is the ideal; at times it is realizable, often'enough it is impossible. Some people are outside the Church through ill-will; all that we can do for them is pray that they will cooperate with the grace of God. Others are outside the fold through an ignorance which will respond to "treatment"~as in the example alleged above. And many are non-Catholics by reason of an ignorance which cannot be removed: either they are convinced that their own religion is all right, or at least they are convinced that the Catholic Church is all wrong. / People can belong .to this third class witl~out having any real ill-will. They are non-Catholics "in good faith," as, we say. They belong "to the soul of the Church," as some explain it; or, as others say, they are "invisible mere- 338 APOS'~OLATE TO ASSIST DYING NON,CATHOLICS bers of the visible Church." Call it what you will, these people can save their souls, even without explicit profession of the Catholic Faith, lorouided theft fulfill certain mini-mum essentials for saloation. What are these minimum essentials of salvation? Prac-tically speaking,~ they may be summed up in four acts that involve the free cooperation of a human being with the grace of God, namely, acts of Faith, Hope, Charity, and .Contri-tion. They must be supernatural acts, that is, made. with the help of grace, and rooted in a free acceptance of Divine Revelation. Thus, the basic act in this~series is supernatural Faith, not a vague sentimental thing that many people call faith, not the mere Work of human reason, but the accept-ance by man of truths revealed by God and because they are revealed by God. It is not necessary to make an explicit act of faith in all the dogmas of the Catholic Faith, but to be sure of salvation one must believe at least in these four revealed truths: the existence of God, the fact that God re-wards the good and punishes the wicked, the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, the mystery~of the Incarnation. " Anyone with a truly .apostolic spirit will Want to help non-Cath01ics (o make these necessary acts. It cannot be left to chance, because God does not work by chance; He works thrpugh ordinary human instruments. The true apostle, therefore, will try to devise a means of providing the dying non-Catholic with this opportunity. But in this apostolic endeavor he will find himself con-fronted with two serious difficulties; the first being to ob-tain a brief, yet apt formulatidn of the necessary prayers', the second consisting in gaining an approach to the non- Catholic without provoking antagonism. Several years ago, Monsignor Raphael 3. Markham, of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati, then professor of Pastoral Theology at Mount St. Mary Seminary, Norwood, Ohio, 339 GERALD KELLY worked ,out- a splendid solution to both.these,, problems. First he compiled a formula of the necessary prayers which is:admirable for its brevity, adequateness, and simple beauty~ Next he had these prayers printed on cards which, though attractive to the .eye, contain no reference to Catholicism that might je0paridze the.good cause in the case of a non- Catholic whom long years of misrepresentation had made suspicious of the Catholic Church. These cards can be p!aced near the bedside, sent through a friend--there are innumerable ways of getting them into the hands of non- Catholics without wakening suspicious prejudice~ ~. Monsignor .Markham's venture was first launched on a very smal! scale. He distributed the cards to his own class and explained the method of using .them. Later, someone drew the attention of Archbishop McNicholas to the novel apostolic plan, and he insisted that it get wider recognition. In the subsequent years, the mo:vement has grown 'im-mensely, and the results have been most gratifying. We presume that all religious, p~rticularly those w15o have o'.casion to minister to the sick and the dying, will.be deeply interested in this trdly apostolic, venture. Anyone who wishes more information can obtain an explanatory brochure an~l a few sample cards by writing to one of the addresses given be!ow. The cards themselves, whether plain or hand-tinted, sell at a very moderate price--merely ehough to cover expenses. At present Monsignor Markham and his associates are particularly interested in distributing a small, convenient card designed espe~cially for the use of men in our armed forces. For brochure and cards write to:., ,(a) Rt: Reu. R. d. Markham, S.T.D., Compton Road, Hartwell, Cincinnati, Ohio. (b) Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis, St. Clare Convent, Harttoell, Cin-cinnati, Ohio. (c) Sister M. Carmelita, R.S.M., Convent of Mercy, 1409 Freeman Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio. 340 -. Commun ca!: ons [EDITOR'S NOTE: In our July number (p. 218) we outlined one practical di~culty concerning the spiritual direction of religious and asked for constructive comment and suggestions. We have received many communications on the subject. ,We cannot publish alldn this number, but we are printing as many as space permits. The remainder will be used in the next number. Further comments, either on the o~iginal editorial ~r ~on the communications printed in the~ present number, will be welcomed. Most of the letters concern the direction of Sisters. Considering their number and the fact that their spiritual direction must be limited almost exclusively to the confessional, this was to be expected. However.' the readers" attention is called to the excellent communication from a Brother Novice Master that appears in this number. More such letters would be ~helpful; we have a large number of Brothers among our subscribers. The editors assume no responsibility for the opinions expressed in these com-munications. ,Judge them on their own merits.] From Priesf~ - Rdverend Fathers: Du~ing ofir semifiary, days we used to" say that allconfessors (like all Gaiil) could be~divided into thre~ classes: confessors who simply " said "For your penance say--"; confessors ~ho said "Tomorrow's feast reminds us that ", and good confessors. Several years'°~experience in hearing confessions may have led us to r~vise that rattier hasty generahzatlon. As secular priests we seldom have the duty of hearing the confessions of religious women at the time Of theft retreat. But upon us as secular priests falls the obligation of being', in most. cases, the ordinary confessors of religious-women. That'0~e has never been assigned to me, but upon various bccasions and for various reason~s sisters have come to confession to me, and from this slight experience together with a great deaf'more thoughl~ I have come to conclusions which may answer, in part at l~st. the. questions ~aised by the editorial Spiritual Direction by the Ordiriar~/Con[essor in the 3uly 15 issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. That some sort of spiritual direction should be given by the .ordinary confessor of religious women can, I think, be considered a pr, oved fact. By their vows°and their~eager desire to be faithful in all things to those vows religious are ~laced high in the ranks of the Church. Consequently, they are exposed to, greater satanic attacks and need greater assistance. Weekly spiritual di.rection of some sort is an essential form of tha~ assisfance. But what form shofild i.t take? My simple suggestion is that 34.1 it is not. wise for the ordinary confessor to make a general :rule Of commenting on the faults confessed. Unless there is something out-standing among them riley had' better be passed over in silence; as too much emphasis placed on them may result in scrupulosity. Rather, the ordinary-confessor should giye posit!re direction, centering his words and ideas, on Our Divine Saviour, "especially as His Divine and Human Natures' are manifested to us b~/ the liturgical year. Such direction counteracts the natural tendency of many reli-gious people, perhaps, more especially of religious women, to become self-centered in their spiritual life. The confessor can exemplify and elaborate this simple, advice, but it seems to me that it contains the germ of sound and fruitful dilection which can be given by the ordinary confessor of religious. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: I am a religious, ordained more than twenty-five years, during which time I have never been without the charge of one. sometimes two. religious communities, as ordinary and extraordinary confessor, Besides. I have given nearly a hundred retreats,~most of'which have been to religious women. The heart of your editorial is in the sentence, "The ~¢onfessor does not know how to make the approach: the community does not make it for him." o , ~ I think it is the duty of tl~ confessor to make the-approach. Personally I have not given thematter of direction so much attention, but very early in the exercise of the ministry, I realized how impor-tant it is to help religious to receive the Sacramefit of Penance as fruitfully as possible, as an effective means of spiritual progress. 1 ) For many years I made it a point to.give each penitent a few ¯ words of encouragemen~t or advice, based on the season of the y~car, or some pract~ic¢ connected with some approaching feast. (The same for all.) 2) T~ese little talks were later varied dnd aimed at helping the penitent ,correct some fault or no,quire some virtue. This I consider the first step in making the Sacrament of Penance a very fruitful means of advancing. 3) I frequently make it a point to emphasize that they should endeavor to correct themselves of one fault ev~erytime they go to con-fession. Sorrow and the purpose of amendment should be centered 342 COMMUNICATIONS on one f~ult. I frequently ask them what one fault they are going to try to overcome for next' week. 4) I ~fideavor to impress upon them the benefit of investigating the roots of sins and of confessing ~tendencies rather than individual acts, specially never to confess sins for which they are ~ot sorry. If a confessob proves hims~elf zealous, willing to listen, kind, and above all invariably patient and tactful, practically all religious will correspond and the results will be very gratifying. Most reli-gious fear to be, a burden to the confessor by what they may refer to as their petty troubles. If the confessor makes each one feel that he has all the time in the world for them, and that he is interested in each soul's advancement, confidence will be given and a great deal will be " accomplished in directing them. These three books have helped me in solving this problem in past years: The Confessional by Rt. Reverend Aloysius Roeggl, trans-lated from °the German and" adapted by the Reverend Augustine Wirth, O.S.B., published by the translator, at Elizabeth, ,N. 2. (1882.) Sacdrdotal Meditations, by Father Chaignon. Meditations 70 to 75 are'on the.duties and qualifications of a confessor. I make them' dvery year. at least during my retreat. Published by Benziger. Confession as a Means of Spiritual Progrdss, by Scharsch-Marks. Herder, 1935. Signed. etc . [NOTE:~ We mi~gh~ also recommend The Spiritual Direction of Sisters, by Ebl-Kirsch. : Benziger Bros., 1931.ED.] Reverend Fathers: Acting on th'~ assurance in the July REVIEW that you will wel-come constructive comment as to how Father A might be.of greater help to his penitents, may I proffer a suggestion or two? Let the perplexed confessor evince his willingness to give more than mire absolution by some such approach: "Is there any comment I can malie on any of these faults?" or "Can I behelpful to you in any of these problems?" or "Is there anything that is a source of anxiety to you?" etc. etc. Numbers of individuals have found such an invitation to share their burden with a willing counselor all that was needed to open the way to eventual peace of soul. If Father A "heard about twenty confessons in twenty-fi~,e min-utes" could it be that some of his penitents listened in vain for the Dorninus sit in cordo tuo. . . Misereatur . . . lndulgentiam . . . 343 COMMUNICATIONS Passio D. N. d. C . ? When a confessor habitually reduces his administration of the Sacrament of Penance tO the minimum in effort;. it isn't strange that those who kneel before, him follow .suit. I should like to amplify bpth these points and stress still another one or two, but you wisely~suggest brevity. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: " The confessor should be thoroughly and personally interested in his charges. If he be so interested, he should find no difficulty in~ formulating a question or two that will bring out their degree of religious'observance or fervor, upon which he can then build a helpful and constructive bit of spiritual guidance. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: The experience I am relating here concerns a retreat-director, not an ordinary confessor: but it may prove helpful to the general subject of spiritual direction by the confessor. The experience concerns a prominent priest who in his early retreats was s;iid to give "'marvelous instructions" but was scarcely mediocre as a confessor. He was told of this and set about to over-come his difficulty, which seems to have been about the same as that of Father A in your editorial. To overcome the hesitancy of the sisters, he asked some question such as this: How's the spiritual life? your meditation? your particular examen? .your obedience? In most cases he found that this was iufficient to open the floodgates: the nuns were bursting to say something, btlt they didn't know how. It was a case of 50-50, the penitent as backwardas the confessor. The opening ~lUeStibn was what.might be described as "breaking the ice." Next on the program was to have a brief, practical, attrac-tive remedy for the trouble that might be manifested, e. g. "Mddita-tion is terrible." The priest worked these points out: and he. has found the method very helpful and successful.~ Signed, etc . From Brothers Reverend Fathers: ' The problem raised in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOL~S, Volume I. No. 4, with regard to spiritual dii'ection by the ordinary confessoi, has been 344 COI~UNICATIONS ~our ;'own problem for quite a long time. The solution we have evolved in our house of formation is given as follows: First of all, we are indebted to the understanding heart of our chaplain for a perfect collaboration between him and the Brother Superior of the' community. This is a matter of prime importance. At the beginning each month the Brother Superior proposes to the community the practice of a particular virtue', ~hosen ordinarily ~from among those which are recommended to'us by our Rules, 'or of which a more urgent n~d is .f~lt." He explains this virtue, deriving his inspiration, as concerns practical 'applications, from the Constitu-tions, the Custom Book, and the letters of Major Superiors. Then eachvirtue'is divided so that in four successive weeks it may be prac-ticed with increasing perfecton. Here are three examples: " PO3il~RTY: First Weeh, to avoid superfluities; Second Weeh, avoid attaEhment to what is permitted: Third Weeh, to avoid the useful, the comfortable, the new: Fourth Weeh, t~ deprive oneself at times of necessities, without of course jeopardizing health. HUMILITY: First Weeh, to speak well of the absent:, Sec~ond Weeh, to cultivate an interior contempt of self; Third Weeh~ to take joy in contempt; Fourth Weeh, to attribute to God the credit for our CHARITY: First Weeh, to render services at the cost of one's own convenience; Second Weeh, ro"return good for good: Third Weeh, to return good for nothing; Fourth Weeh, to return good for evil. " The program thus prepared is given over to the chaplain, who, except in rare instances, draws therefrom material for the weekly ~xh6rtation he addresses v t0 l~is penitents. The latter thereupon ~nform the confessor of their fidelity to the ~dvice received at ~the time of the preceding confession. The habit of renderifi'g to the confessor a spontaneous account of one's fidelity in. following advice ~hould be thoroughly inculcated and de~,elope~l :from the.beginning of the novitiate. There is a corre- Sponding ~>l~ligation on the part of the confessor to ,khort'; to en~ourage, to direct ;. and it is for this purpose thak we supply him with matter each' month. It should be evident that our entire undertaking has but one aim: "to-afford the confessor and his charge an opportimit~l for mutual understanding, so as to place the confessor before an open door, so to 345 COMMUNICATIONS speak, or at least a door which is on the point of opening. The rest must be left to the good will of the director and of those who are to be directed, and to the grace of God. At this _stage discretion demands that the Superior withdraw to the background. A former colleague of mine, to whom goes the entire credit for the solution of our problem and its .application in practice, has this to say about it: "The labor of cooperation, based on an understanding between the chaplain and the superior, has been pursued for more than three years at one of our houses and for 24 months at another. It is the characteristic feature of the Eucharistic method (of Abb~ Poppe), ¯ of St. Ignatius and his entireschool. I can attest that it is effective and psychologically sound. The ~theological. and moral virtues, th~ practice of the Rules--all can be subjected to this progressivd and methodic labor. It has the advantage of compellii~g, in a certain manner, the confessor to make himself als0 a director. This solution haso proved satisfactory to our confessor and to those whom he directs: it is conformable, at any rate so. I believe, to the ~pirit of the Church. You can weigh it for yourself. If you find it too flimsy . whoosh! .to the wastebasket. A Novice Master From Sisters Reverend Fathers: Your editorial on Spiritual Direction in the July issue of the REVIEW is most timely and thought-provoking. We have discussed the article in question, and here are some of our The directors chosen are not always the best suited for religious. Some are timid, impatient, have a frigid air. A few hit on a happy phrase and use it week after week: for~ example,~ "Keep up the good work and say three Hail Marys." Many show no zeal for perfection. "We cannot give what we haven't got." The director as Teacher, Father, Judge should tak.e thee initiative. Any question regarding a fault confessed will serve as an opening; ~or "Sister, I am here to help you. Have you ,,any questions to ask?" We would tell Father A of your article: "The next time you have a chance to direct religious, go forth and bea spark among the reeds and set the world on fire with the love of Jesus Christ. The ashe~ of the reeds will beeternally grateful to you." 346 COMMUNICATIONS As to the religious themselves, ther~ is no end of excuses. Lack of courage--what will others say?shyness--fear of the conse-quences-- don't know how o~ where to'beginPnot encouraged to seek direction in confession. Some simply like the shady side of easy street. To both confessor and penitent could be" said, "Ask. seek . . . knock." It will mean more peace, more joy, more of God here and hereafter. A Religious Community Reverend Fathers: Enclosed are some thofights I've had for quite a few years on the subject of direction in the confessions of nuns. I am grateful that this matter has been brought° up and trust the responses you receive will be enlightening and helpful to all of us. SOME REASONS WHY DIRECTION OF NUNS IN CONFESSION FAILS: I. On the part of Communitg: The ever present pressure of work that straifis time. Fifty or sixty nuns, sometirdes more, waiting to go to confession and-- one confessor. If half the fiuns took all the time they wanted, the other half wo'uld of necessity be restless--maybe i~rital~le--waiting. The time dement in consideration of the waiting of others is to my mind a big factor. I saw this solved in one Of our larger communi-ties when the Rector" of a nearby monastery sent three confessors at the same time. It served a three-fold purpose: (a) the nuns had a choice of confessor; (b) none minded how long she stayed because she felt no one had to wait because of'her: (c) the confessors all fin-ished within an hour or so and not one felt overburdened. 2. On the part o~ the indit~idual nun:- (a) Because of long years without direction, she has long ago abandoned the idea of ever having that help, and so her.confessions become mere-recitals of weekly J imperfections-and~ venial sins. (b) Because she has been frightened at sometime or another, or disillusioned to some extent, she is too timid to ask the help she Craves. (c) Because sec~lar priests many times do not seem to under.- stand religious life and the serious obligation a religious has of striving constantly, for perfection, the nun after some futile attempts to get direction regarding her retreat election, her monthly examen. 347 COMMUNICATIONS etC., abandons the ~ttempt seeing the priest embarrasked, or indefinite in his guidance. . ,~ ° (d) Because she needs guidance ~so badly'and doesn't know where to begin, or how td ask, she is silent,~ hoping always the con-fessdr will make an opening. Or she has real problems, but fear, or a natural reticence, or tl~e thought," :'This is too simple to bother a confessor about," hinders her from seeking guidance. ¯ 3. On the part of the confe~or: (a) If~he is a religious ~priest, "he will Usually give a prepared instruction, or will sdlect some sin mentioned and give advice, but unless asked, he will not usually attempt guidance that is consecu-tively followed.~ Why? , (b) If he is .a secular priest, he sometimes belittles°confessions that include "breaking of silence," "time wasted." etc,, saying, as has been done too frequently: "That is silly,;~ tell your.sins,-" or "Sister. you don't have to mention imperfections." (Is a dun supposed to have venial sins all the time to confess?) (c) If the confessor is in a hurry andgiv.es evidence of this by closing the slide before the nuns finish their ac~ of contrition, or by asking, "Sister; are there many nuns to go?" the news soon gets around the community that Father X is al~ways in such a hurry that none wants to hinder his fligh!! (d) If unfortunately he has ever said to even one nun. " I don't like tohear nun£ confessions," it is sufficient to prevent many from seeking him as a director. (e) If the'confessor is indefinite, ciicling generalities, using too philosophical terms, most nuns are more confused and give up. thinking "What's the use?. I~ never do get any. real help when I ask." Solutions: I. In~ large communities two confeisors (or more) coming on the same or on consecutive days, will .solve the problemof time and the fear on the nun's part of keeping large groups waiting. II. The nuns on their part should ask simply for continued guidance stating frankly their desire of acquiring such and such a virtue; .their constant difficulty regarding particular examen; ~their lack of progress in the spiritual life and'the r~asons they thinl~ respon-sible for it: their difficulty with their superiors, or others, and;what in themselves causes it. These cases stated clearly, ,,frankly, humbly, 348 COMMUNICATIONS will at once help the confessor to analyze and guide the soul seeking help. III. The confessor .by evidencing his real interest, his wish to help regardless of the time taken, his "follow up" from a confession, would win confidence an'd would win,o souls starving for spiritual aid. Such questions as: "Sister, are youin the habit of speaking against authority? . Sister, do you ever think how much good you can do by giving the example of perfect silence?" or simply, "Sister, cain I help you in any way ?"--would be the seSami~ of opened and awakened souls. To give one instance: after a confession hurriedly made in. which evdr~rthing ~was generalized, a confessor asked, "Sister, are you accustomed to making confessions like this fre-quently?" This simple question broke down a nun's reserve and resulted in several years of fruitful guidan&. The nun felt the priest really cared. Is this the secret? A Mother S~perior Re~,erend Fathers: I ~m especially grateful for the challenge thrown out in the article on $1~iritual Direction b~/ the Ordinar~l Confessor. I sincerely .hope that the forthcoming communic.ations will do much to stimulate priests in their great responsiblity in guiding souls to a higher perfec-tions. Here are my suggestons: Give the admonition on the confession made. "Poor Pussy" types of admonitlon~are not appreciated: nor are "canned" admoni-tions. Oc~asi0nally ask WHY a certain fault was committed; als0 WHAT is being done to overcome a repeated accusation. Another question that creates¯ thought is, "What is your particular exarfien?" And the added remark, "Report on this each month," gives much material for guidance. Sometimes the question, "What do you mean when you accuse yourself of .thus and s0?" may cause a startling revelation to the confessor. ¯ A varying penanc.e also helps to draw attention to the individual confessio.n, A Mother Superior [Addr¢ss further communications on this subject directly to the' Editors, St. ,Mary's Co11¢g¢. St. Marys, Kansas.] Book Reviews OUR MODELS IN RELIGION. By Brother Jean-Bapfiste, F.M.S. Pp. 520. Marls÷ Brothers, St. Ann's Herm;tacje, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. $1.50. Thd subtitle of this book indicates its contents: "Biographies of some early Marist Brothers who were outstanding by their vir-tues and love for their vocatidn." Written originally in French by Brother 3ean-Baptiste, it was translated intoEnglish on the occasion of the 120th anniversary of the foundation of, the Institute. "Fhe purpose of the work was evidently to inspire the Marist Brothers by the virtuous example of their predecessors. Merely as biography, Our Models in Religion wouldoprobably be of interest to Marist Brothers but would hardly merit the attention of others. However, "biography" may be said to be a secondary theme of the work. The biographical sketches are rather pegs on which to hang various bits of good advice and instructio~a. There is much good instruction, much good conference material, in the book. Spiritual directors,of religious can find in it many worthwhile points for conferences, as well as an abundance of material for ~developing the topics. The book was printed by Desclle. Paper, printing, and binding are all of high quality. G. KELLY, S.,J, ".THE SOLUTION IS EASY. By the Reverend Mark Schmid. O.S.B., Ph.D. Pp. xii ÷ 181. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York, 1942. $2.00. ~This book forms a neat, popular introduction to the Scholastic answers to the fundamental questions of philosophy. It will prove useful especially to those who have not the opportunity of making thorough study of Sct~olasticism but who, nevertheless, would lit::to become acquainted with its broad outlines. The work bears the imprint of one who.has,had many years of experience in teaching science and philosophy: the subject matter is presented in a way that makes it easily grasped and the author is careful to avoid even the appearance of being dogmatic. He does not enter upon ground con-troverted by the scholastics themselves, but confines himself to those points wherein all are agreed. Especially prominent is the frequent 350 BOOK REVIEWS discussion of popular scientific problems that have a close connection with philosophical principles. The book begins With a Jthumb-nail sketch (twe.nty-three pages) of the history of Scholasticism from its earliest period to the twenti-eth century. The second, and chief, part of the book consists of brief chapters setting forth the. Neo-Scholastic view of the major problems of philosophy. The first four chapters pertain to cosmology and discuss the problems of the nature and origin of the physical world. Then come.~ ~sychology with such questions as the origin of life, knowledge, free will', immortality.~ Following this are such metaphysical questions as First Principles, the problem of evil, causality, design or purpose, and the Creator. The problem of social origins forms the concluding chapter of the book. After each chapter is appended a convenient bibliography of readings and references. The author has chosen for this purpose those books which are writ-ten- in English and which should be easily procurable from an ordi-nary Catholic library. Fr. Schmid omits dry discussions from his book, eliminates the formalism of scholastic text-books, and enlivens his work through-out with apt illustrations and homely analogies. The ideas are quite clear, the language is simple and, for the most part, concrete. Tech-nical words are defined and. described. Synonyms, parenthetical expressions, and quotation marks are employed quite frequently, for the benefit of the uninitiated. At the the end of the book there is a glossary making a handy dictionary of terms found in this and other books on.philosophy.--A. J. BENEDETTO, S.J. THE DIALOG MASS. By the Reverend Gerald Elhrd, S.J. Pp. xvl -~ 223. Loncjmans,'Green & Company, New YorE, 1942. $2.75. "It is well within the expectations of probability that another decade will have witnessed the gradual transition to Dialog Mass as the normal form of low Mass worship everywhere in the United States." It is Archbishop Michael J. Curley, speaking, in his preface to Father Ellard's book, Who from his vantage point, as Archbishop of Baltimore and Washington gives us this measured judgment of,the future of Dialog Mass in this country. For all of us this practically means that in the opinion of Archbishop Curley, when attending low Mass ten years from now we shall either have to form a part of 351 Boo~ R~vm~s deliSerately cut ourselves off from fellowship with our fellow, Chris-tians by remaining s~lent. This makes the Dialog Mass and our acceptance or rejection of it a burni.ng ques~tion right now. " The more so is this true, as the Dialog Mass is the resul~ of the efforts of many zealous prelates and priests throughout the world to bring into actuality the active participation of the laity in the most holy mysteries and in the public and solemn prayers of the Church/of which the authoritative voice of Plus X says, "It is the foremost and indispensable font for acquiring the true Christian sp, irit" (Motu P'roprio, On Sacred Music). It will be a surprise to many a one who has been apathetic to the Dialog Mass "because it is an innovation," to find that it is one 'of those innova~tions that are in absolute accord with the old theologi-cal adage, Nil ~'nno{petur nisi quod traditum est (Let there be no inno-vation except such as comes down to us by tradition). The Dialog Mass is not a bringing in of something new that never was. but bringing back of what has been. Father. Ellard, after studying the historical evidence, feels justified in making the statement: "In the sixteenth century the custom still survived at Rome and elsewhere that the congregatioh made the Mass responses with the serv~er. When the custom disappeardd is not known." Father Ellard's book is important because of its studied~y accu-rate presentation of facts regarding the spread of the Dialog Mass and his documented story of the attitude of the Holy See on the subject. At the end of Chapter Five, in which the author shows that the Did-log Mass is encircling the globe, he presents the following' results of a questionnaire-survey among Sodalists throughout the United_ States and of official surveys of the Diocese of LaCrosse and of the Arch-diocese of Chicago: Dioceses in which Dialog Mass is approved. 100: Dioceses in which Dialog Mass is not allowed. 4: Dioceses on which information is not available, 11. Thi~ l~ind of information is of supreme importance for ever~ one of us by reason of another theological adage, Securus judicat orbis terraru~, the sense of w, hich is that the Catholic world judges surely about the Catholicity or ,non-Catholiciy of any religious practice. Teachers will be especially grateful to Father Ellard for his helpful suggestions about Dialog Mass for children.'hnd hhw to corn-~ bine it with music, and thus buil
Issue 21.6 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; JOHN XXIII Letter to Religious Women TheI largest church of Christianity is being prepared to receive the fathers of Vatican Council ii. On October 11 will begin the great meeting which has been the object of the prayerful expectation of al! Catholics and We may add of all men of good will. This is a solemn hour in the history of the Church, for it is a matter of stirring up the forces of spiritual renovation which the Church always possesses so that a new dynamism can .be communicated to the activities and the institutions of her age-long history. The clergy are already reciting the Breviary every day in union with Us for the successful outcome of the ecu-menical Council.2 The laity, especially children, the sick, and the old, have frequently been asked to offer prayer and sacrifice for the same purpose; and they have re-sponded with generous promptness. All are eager to offer their help, for the Council is assuming the role of ',a new Pentecost."s In such a climate of zealous preparation it is natural that those should distinguish themselves who have made a total offering of themselves to God and who have given thermelves to the exercise of. fervent prayer and charity. Beloved daughters, the Church has gathered you under her protective mantle; she has approved your constitu-tions; she has defended your rights; she has derived and will continue to derive great benefits from your works. As an expression of gratitude for what you have done up to x This letter, I1 tempio raassimo, is translated from the Italian text as given in Osservatore Romano, July 8, 1962, pp. 1-2. 2Apostolic Exhortation Sacrae. Laudis, January 60 1962, in Acta Apostolicae $edis, v. 54 (1962), pp. 66-75. ~Prayer for the Council in Acta ApOstolicae Sedis, v. ~51 (1959), p. 832. ÷ ÷ ÷ l~ligious Womtn VOLUME 21, 1962 493 ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS now and as a joyful hope.for your future work, the'words of the Apostle may be deservedly applied to you: ¯. making mention of you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may grant you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the deep knowledge of him: the eyes of your mind being enlightened, so that you may know what is the hope of his calling, what the riches of his .inher-itance in the saints. (Eph 1: 15-18). I would ask you to give every consideration to this let-ter; in the words of the humble Vicar of Christ hear what the Divine Master wishes to suggest to each of you. The preparation for the Council demands that the women consecrated to the Lord according to approved canonical forms should reconsider wi~h renewed fervor the duties of their vocation.In this way your response when the enact-ments of the Council are made will be prompt and gener-ous, for it will have been prepared for by a deeply intense endeavor of personal sanctification. In order that life consecrated to God should always cor-respond in the best way possible to the desires of the Divine Heart, it is necessary that it be 1) a life of prayer, 2) a life of example, and 3) a life of the apostolate. THE LIFE OF PRAYER Here Our thoughts turn especially to the nuns and sisters of the contemplative and penitential life. As We re-distributed the candles given to Us on February 2, 1961, the feast of the Presentation of our Lord in the temple, We remarked: The first destination of the candles, religious houses with the strictest rules of mortification and penance, is meant to re-affirm once more the p~:eeminence of the duties of worship and of total consecration to a life of prayer over every other form of apostolate; and at the same time it is meant to emphasize the greatness of vocations to this way of life and the need of vocations to it? This corresponds to a truth that is universally valid even for religious women of a predominantly active life: the interior life is the only foundation and the only soul of every apostolate. All of you should meditate on this truth, you who are rightly called quasi apes argumentosae because of your continual exercise of the fourteen works of mercy in sisterly conjunction with your fellow sisters. So also those of you who are consecrated to God in secular institutes must draw from prayer all the efficacy of your enterprises. Like every other form of societal living, life that is of-fered to the Lord entails difficulties and sacrifices. Only ' Discorsi,Messaggi, Colloqui di Sua Santitd Giovanni XXIlI, v. 3 (Vatican City: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1962), p. 143. prayer will obtain the gift of happy perseverance. The good works to which you are dedicated will not always be crowned with success; disillusionment, misunderstand-ing, ingratitude await you. Without the help of prayer you will not be able to bear up on your difficult road. You should not forget that a misunderstood dynamism can lead you to fall into that "heresy of action" reproved by Our predecessors. If this danger is avoided, then you can be confident that you are truly cooperators in the salvation of souls :and you will add many merits to your reward. All of you, those devoted to the contemplative life as well as those in the active life, should understand the meaning of the expression, "a life of prayer." It does not mean a mechanical repetition of formulas; it is rather the indispensable means of intimacy with our Lord and of a better comprehension of the dignity of the daughters of God and of the spouses of the Holy Spirit, that "gentle Guest of the soul" who speaks to those who know how to listen in recollection. Your prayer should be nourished by the wellsprings of a profound knowledge of Sacred Scripture, especially of the New Testament; it will be further fostered by the liturgy and the teaching of the Church in all its fullness. Holy Mass should be the center of each day in such a way that each action becomes both a prepar~ation and:a thanks-giving for it. Holy Communion is the daily food which will sustain, comfort, and strengthen you. In this way you will avoid the danger of lacking oil for your lamps as did the foolish virgins in the parable. You will find yourselves ready for everything: for glory and for ignominy, for health and for sickness, for continuing your work and for dying--"Behold the bridegroom comes, go out to meet him" (Mt 25:6). And here it will be useful to recall to you once more the often repeated statement of what We consider to be the three fundamental devotions even for the simple faith-ful: "For the understanding and. encouragement of the adoration of Christ, there is nothing better than to con-sider and to invoke Him under the triple light of His Name, His Heart, and His Blood."5 The Name, the Heart, the Blood of Christ: these are the substantial nourishment of a solid life of piety. The Name of Jesusl In all truth, Nil canitur suavius, Nil auditur iucundius, Discourse at the close o[ the Roman Synod in dcta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 52 (1960i, ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 21, 1962 4. 4. + .John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 Nil cogitatur dulcius, Quam Iesus Dei Filius. Song never was so sweet in ear, Word never was such news to hear, Thought half so sweet there is not one, As Jesus God the Father's Son.6 The Heart of Jesusl In his encyclical "Haurietis Aquas'" of May 15, 1956 (which we recommend to your attentive reflection), Pius XII of venerable memory remarked: If the reasons for devotion to the wounded Heart of Christ ~re duly considered, it should-become clear to all that this is not an ordinary form of piety which one can esteem less than other devotions or regard as a minor matter; rather it is a form of worship perfectly adaptedto lead to the attainment of Chris-tian perfection.~ The Blood of Christi "This is the loftiest sign of the ¯ redemptive sacrifice of Christ which is mystically and really renewed in holy Mass; it gives meaning and orienta-tion to all Christian fife.''s A LIFE OF EXAMPLE These are. the words of Christ: "I have given you an example, that as Ihave done to you, so you also should do" (Jn 13:15). To those who desire to follow the steps of Christ faithfully is presented the practice of the evangeli-cal counsels, "the royal road of Christian sanctification.''6 Poverty Christ was born in a stable; during His public life He had no place to lay His head at night (Mt 8:20); and He died on the naked cross. The first condition that He laid down for those who wish to follow Him was this: "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven" (Mt 19:2f). You have been drawn by the example and teaching of our Divine Master; you have offered all to Him: "I have offered all these things joyfully" (1 Chr 29:17). It is in the light of the imitation of the poor Christ that your vow receives its full value; daily you must content ~ourself with what is indispensable; what is superfluous you should give under obedience to the poor and to good works; the e Vesper-Hymn of the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus; [the English translation is that of Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J.]. ~ dcta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 48 (19.56)¢ p. 346. 8 Discourse to the Religious Family of the Most Precious Blood, June 2, 1962 (Osservatore Romano, July 3, 1962). e Encyclical Letter Sacerdotii Nostri Primordia in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 51 (1959), pp. 550-51. ~ unknown of tomorrow, sickness, old age--these should be entrusted tO Divine Providence after prudent provisions have been taken. Detachment from the goods of the earth attracts general attention since it shows to all that poverty is neither stingi-ness nor avarice; it makes persons reflect seriously on the divine words: "What profit does a man make by gaining the whole world while losing his soul?" (Mt 16:26). Live your vow or your promise to the full, for it makes you like Him who, though rich, became, poor in order that we might become rich through His poverty (see 2. Cor 8:9). In this matter there will be no lack of temptation such as the seeking of small comforts or satisfacti6n in food or the use of goods. Poverty, as you know, has its thorns which must be painful because they will become the roses of heaven. Again the need for legitimate modernization may be-come excessive by ostentation in construction and equip-ment, matters that have sometimes occasioned comments that were scarcely favorable even if there was no question of the modest rooms of the sisters. But understand this well, beloved daughters; it is not Our intention to say that what is indispensable for physical health and for reason-able and needful recreation is contrary to poverty. Never-theless, may the eye of the Divine Master never be sad-dened by that elegance which can have a negative influence on the interior life of persons consecrated~to. God when they live in surroundings which lack the atmosphere of austerity. Let poverty be held in great honor among all of you. We wish to extend a special word of comfort to clois-tered nuns for whom "sister poverty" often becomes "sister indigence." Christ, the Son of God become poor, will be your consolation. Meanwhile in His name We Ourselves stretch out Our hands for you to your fellow sisters who are in a better economic state and to generous benefactors. We encourage the enterprises begun in this connection by the federations of cloistered nuns under the direction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. And We recall to all of you the divine promise: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God" (Lk 6:20). Angelic Chastity We read in the Gospels how jesus suffered and 'how great were the injuries that afflicted Him. Bu~' from Beth-lehem to Calvary the splendor which radiated from His divine purity always increased and won over the people. So great was the austerity and the charm o[ His deport-ment. So also must you be, beloved daughters. Blessed are the carefulness, the mortifications, and the renunciations ÷ ÷ I~ligious Women VOLUME 21, 1962 497 4. 4. 4. John XXIll with which you seek to make more radiant the virtue about. which Pius XII wrote a memorable encyclical letter.1° Live the lessons of.the encyclical; let your conduct show to all that chastity is not only possible but that it is a social virtue which is forcefully defended by prayer, vigi-lance, and the mortification of the senses. May your example show that your heart is not enclosed in a sterile egoism but that it has chosen the indispensable condition for making itself solicitous for the needs of the neighbor. For this purpose cultivate the rules of good man-ners. We repeat: cultivate and make use of them without paying attention to those who would introduce into your life a mode of behavior less adapted to rightful respect and reserve. In your apostolic works reject the theory of those who do not speak or speak very little of modesty and decency so that there may be introduced into methods of education criteria and orientations in opposition to the teaching of the Sacred Books and of Catholic tradition. Even though on the one hand materialism,.theoretical or practical, is a threat and though on the other hand hedonism and corruption wish to break all barriers, Our soul is restored to serenity by the contemplation of the angelic bands who have offered their chastity and who through their prayer and sacrifice draw down on the erring the marvels of divine mercy in a propitiation of pardon for the sins of individuals and of peoples. Obedience The Apostle St. Paul has developed the theme of the humiliation of Christ made obedient even to the death of the cross (Eph 2:8). In order to follow the Divine Master better, you are bound to Him by a vow or promise of obedience. This continual immolation of one's own "I," this annihilation of one's self, can be very costly; but it is also true that victory lies here (see Prv 21:28), because to this spiritual crucifixion there corresponds heavenly graces for you and for humanity. The teaching of the Church is clear and precise con-cerning the inalienable rights of the human person. The peculiar endowments of each person must be allowed to develop in a fitting way in order that each one may corre-spond with the gifts received from God. All this is a recog-nized thing. But if one passes from respect for the person to the exaltation of personality and to the affirmation of personalism, the dangers become great. There are valu-able directives also for you in the words of Pius XII in his exhortation Menti Nostrae: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Encyclical Sacra Virginittu in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 46 (1954), In an age such as this in which the principle of authority is greatly shaken, it is absolutely necessary that the priest, stand-ing firm on the principles of faith, should consider and accept authority not only as the bulwark of the social and religious orders, but also as the foundation of his own personal sanctifi-cation. 11 At this point Our discussion continues by directing it-self to thbse who have the responsibility and the duty of directing others. Demand the most generous obedience to the rules; but at the same time be understanding toward your fellow sisters; encourage in each the development of natural aptitudes. The duty of superior.s is to make obedi-ence lovable and not to obtain a merely external deference and mu~h less to impose unbearable burdens. Beloved daughters, We exhort all of you to live accord-ing to the spirit of this virtue which is nourished by deep humility, absolute disinterestedness, and complete detach-ment. When obedience has become the program of all of life, then the words of St. Catherine of Siena will be under-stood: "How sweet and glorious is this virtue in which all the other virtues are containedt Obedience, you sail without fatigue and without danger you arrive at the harbor of salvation. You are conformed to the only Son, the Word . ; you set sail in the bark of the holy cross, bringing yourself to remain firm and not to neglect the obedience of the Word nor to abandon His teaching . You are great in your perseverance; you are so great since you stretch from heaven to earth, for heaven is un-locked by you.= THE LIFE OF THE APOSTOLATE St. Paul teaches that the mystery revealed to us by God, the plan conceived from all eternity in Christ and come to realization in Him in the fullness of' time, is this: "To re-establish all things in Christ, both those in heaven and those on earth" (Eph 1:10). No one who consecrates him- .self to the Lord is dispensed from the sublime duty of continuing the salvific mission of the Divine Redeemer. The Church has special and great expectations with re-gard to those who live in the silence of the cloister. Like Moses, they hold their arms uplifted in prayer, conscious that in this suppliant attitude victory is gained. So im-portant is the contribution of religious of the contem-plative. life to tl~e apostolate that as the co-patron of the missions and hence as the equal of St. Francis Xavier Pius XI did not choose a sister of the active life but a Carmelite, St. Theres~ of the Child Jesus. You must be spiritually present to all the needs of the Church militant.' No misfortune, no loss, no calamity ~ Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 42 (1950), pp. 662-63. ~Dialogue, c. 155. 4. 4. 4. Religiot~s Woraen VOLUME 21, 1962 499 ÷ ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should find. you a stranger. No scientific discovery, no cul-tural meeting, no social or political gathering should make you think: "These are things that do not concern me." May the Church militant perceive your presence wherever there is a request for your spiritual contribution, to the good of souls and also to true human progress .and to universal peace. May the souls in Purgatory receive your suffrages that the beatific vision may come to them more speedily. United to the choirs of the angels and the saints, continue to repeat the eternal Alleluia to the august~ Trinity. Those who are dedicated to the active life should recall that not only prayer but also work will bring it about that the new course of society draws nourishment from the Gospel and that everything be done to the glory of God and for the salvation of souls. Since persons can not be used in the area of schools, of charity, and of assistance, if they are not prepared for the increased needs which modern conditions impose, exert yourselves under obedience to complete your studies and to take a diploma, quick to overcome all difficulties. In this way there will be a higher appreciation not only of your tried and tested ability but also of your spirit of dedica-tion, of patience, and of sacrifice. Moreover, further needs show themselves in the new countries that have entered the community of free nations. Without affection for one's own land being diminished, the entire world, more than in the past, has become our common fatherland. Many sisters have already heard the call. The field is immense. It is useless to lament that the children of this world have arrived before the apostles of Christ. Lamenting solves nothing; what is necessary is to bestir one's self, to anticipate, to be confident. Nor are the sisters dedicated to contemplation excluded from this duty. In some regions of Africa and of the Far East the inhabitants are more attracted by the contem-plative life since it is more congenial to the development of their culture. Some social classes which are more cul-turally advanced regret that the dynamic life of the mis-sionaries can have only a small degree of coincidence with their way of conceiving religion and of adhering to Chris: tianity. Thus you see, beloved, daughters, how great are the motives that lead to the encouragement of national and international meetings of superiors general that have beer; called by the Sacred Congregation of~ Religious. In this way you are enabled to adapt yourselves better to modern conditions, to profit by common experiences, and to con-~, i sole yourselves with the thought that the Church pos-I sesses a valorous throng of persons capable of meeting every obstacle. The consecrated souls of the new secular institutes know that their work is also appreciated; and they are encour-aged to contribute to the penetration of the Gospel into every phase of the mod6rh world: Those in positions of great responsibility should be dis-tinguished by competence, hard work, and a sense of re-sponsibility. They should also be distinguished by the ensemble of virtues that grace builds up lest persons be put in charge whobase themselves only On human wisdom and on the power of economic, scientific, and technical means: "It is in the name of the Lord our God that we are strong" (Ps 19:8). We invite all of you who are souls consecrated to the Lord in the contemplative or the active life to draw close to each other in charity. May the Spirit of Pentecost rest upon your families, uniting them in that oneness of soul which was manifest in the Cenacle where together with the Mother of God and the Apostles pious women were present (Acts 1:14). CONCLUSION These are Our desires, Our prayers, Our hopes. On the vigil of Vatican Council II the Church has summoned all the faithful, proposing to each of them a state of mind of awareness, of testimony, and of courage. Be among the first, beloved daughters, to cultivate a holy enthusiasm. On this point the Imitation of ChriSt has some touching words: We should daily renew our pqrposes and stir ourselves up to greater fervor as though this were the first day of our conver-sion. Each day we should say: "Help, me, my God, in this my good purpose and in Your holy service; and grant that I may now begin this day perfectly; for what I have done up to now is as nothing" (Bk I, c.19). May the Mother of Jesus and our Mother enkindle you with a new fervorl Have trust in your heavenly Mother and at the same time grow in familiarity with her spouse St. Joseph, the patron of Vatican Council II. Pray also to the saints that are held in particular honor in your various institutes in order that they may unite their powerful in-tercession to obtain that "holy Church reunited in unani-mous and intense prayer around Mary the Mother of Christ and guided by Peter may spread the kingdom of the Divine Savior, a kingdom of truth, of justice, of love, and of peace." The apostolic blessing which We impart to all religious communities and to each person consecrated to God is a + + + Religious Women sign of heavenly favor and of encouragement in a life and an activity for good "in the Church and in Christ Jesus" (Eph 3:21). From the Apostolic Vatican Palace, the second day o[ July of the year 1962, the fourth of Our pontificate. JOHN XXlII ÷ + + John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ELIO GAMBARI, S.M.M. Teaching. Sister in, the Church The purposet of my conference will be to indicate the position, function, and mission of the teaching sister in the Church considered as the perfect juridical society founded by our Lord, for the salvation ,and sanctification of souls. Its purpose is also to respond to certain rumors which are spreading in certain places--this does not seem to be the case in France--and which tend to affirm that the teaching sister assumes a role in the Church and in society which does not belong to her but rather pertains to other types of persons. According to this opinion the teaching sister is merely substituting in a task which in normal condi-tions belongs to others. In this pap~er we shall consider not only the sister's right to exist in the Church but also her special position of commitment with its dignity, rights, and egpecially its duties and obligations. In the Church everything, including dignities and rights, is service; indeed, I should rather say that espe-cially dignities and rights are ~services. If the position of the sister in the Church is a special one, then it necessarily follows that this position carries with it correspondingly greater obligations and duties, which impregnate and ab-sorb the life of the religious institute and of the individual religious. Religious life enlists everything to be found in the person who is marked, with the character of religious. It is my opinion that from the matters to be presented here, whether considered individually or collectively, there will spontaneouslyflow important consequences for teaching sisters with respect to their mission in the per- 1This article is translated with permission from the original French entitled "Le mandat de la religieuse enseignante dans l'Eglise!' which appeared in Ecole chrdtienne et monde d'aujourd'hui pub-lished by the Union des Religieuses Enseignantes de France; 20 rue Gay=Lussac; Pads 5, France. Elio Gambad, S.M.M;; Via dei Monfortani 41; Rome 934, Italy, is an official of the Sa-cred Congregation of 'Religious. VOLUME 2"]., 1962 503 l~iio Ga$m.Mba.M~,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 spective of the Church; this applies perhaps even more so to superiors, since these have the responsibility of form-ing and guiding religious ,teachers. It is my intention to present this subject from a prin-cipally juridical aspect. In recent years there have been a number of publications which have stressed the theologi-cal and even the mystical aspect of teaching; there is, for instance, the work of Father d'Alzon on the mystique of teaching. But I do not think that the juridical position of the teaching sister in the Church has been sufficiently treated; certainly it has not been treated exhaustively. After recalling that the mission of the Church is to teach and to form followers of Christ, I shall show how this proper mission of the Church is communicated to religious and that they partidipate in this mission by the establishment of the religious institute, by the approbation of the constitutions and rules which direct the life and activity of religious, and by the content of the vows of religion. I shall then consider with you some of the char-acteristics of the mission confided by the Church to teach-ing sisters and shall conclude by emphasizing the conse-quences ¯ that result from this mission. The Teaching Mission of the Church The teaching to which sisters d~dicate their lives is linked to the apostolate and the mission which Christ gave to His Church; moreover, it is linked to the mission of Christ Himself, the divine Teacher. The apostolate of education, taken as a whole in its general aspect, is a mis-sion, a function, a mandate for our Lord, for the Church," and for the religious herself. This assertion is verified first of all in the case of Him who is the Teacher par excellence, the unique Teacher Christ who is given the name of Divine Master. Christ came on earth with a mission of education and of teach-ing; He came to communicate life through knowledge of the Father. "I have come that they may know you, the one true God, and him whom you have sent." Before the judgment seat of Pilate Christ made this statement about Himself: "I have come to give testimony to Truth." The Word of God, since 'He is the consub-stantial Image of the Father, must by His very nature manifest and radiate the Truth; He must transmit the light which emanates from the Father. He has described Himself by saying "I am the truth." Those who follow Him and who have accepted His message are His disciples. Such is the mission of Christ our Lord, a mission of education and of teaching; such also is the mission which He has given the Chu¢ch. When He sent His apostles, how else did He express Himself except" by saying "Go, teach": [i make disciples, communicate the truth? Hence the founder of one of the first institutes of religious dedicated to teach-ing, St. Joseph Calasanctius, has correctly said: "Educators are the fellow laborers of truth"; and another saint has called them "sowers of divinity." This mission of edu~a~iofi and 0f teaching is destined to engender Christ in souls, to communicate to them this substantial Truth. Here let us recall the magnificent definition of teaching given by Pope Pius XI in 'the en-cyclical Divini Illius Magistri: the continuation of the Incarnation of Christ in souls. . Even a rapid glance at the rich collection of pontifical documents which treat of education will show us that the educative mission of the Church is presented as a gener-ating of Christ, as a formation of the Christian by a com-munication to him of divine life and of the charity which should inflame the whole world and thus bring truth to realization by means of this charity. The educative mission of the Church is based on her power of teaching and on her maternal, role. The Church, whom we frequently call "holy Mother Church," is essen-tially maternal; as such she is also an educator. Is not education one of the duties that result from maternity; is it not the prolongation of motherhood? In the same way in the case of the Church, her function and m~ssion of edu(ation is the prolongation of her maternal mission. This mission which the divine Founder gave to the Church in which He wished to perpet~Jate HimSelf shows the Chux~ch to us in her~ double aspect of a mystical organ-ism and of a juridical organism, as the mystical Christ and the juridical Christ perpetuated in a permanent way through the course of time by the Church as Pius XII has told us in so masterl~ a way in the encyclical Mystici Cor-poris. From this educative role and mission the Church de-rives her rights and duties. All of us of the present time know the pressing necessity she is under to defend her rights and prerogatives in the area of teaching. Canon 1375 at~irms the right of the Church not only to teach and preach religion but also to found schools of every type; the Church maintains this not as a privilege nor as a substitu-tional function when others fail their duty but as an innate right by virtue of her foundation and of her role. History confirms the exercise of this right by the Church. She it was who has maintained culture in the world, even under its civic.fispects. It has been she who founded and approved universities--theology at Paris, law at Bologna, medicine at Montpellier. All these universities have an ecclesial character. This is important, for even today the Church exercises ÷ ÷ ÷ Th~ Teaching Sister VOLUMI~ 21, 1962 505 ÷ ÷ ElioGamba~ S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 506 her right of teaching and of founding schools of every type. This right she exercises in great part through re-ligious institutes. By means of these institutes which serve her as ministers, the Church has her own schools with a completely ecclesial character; they are schools not of the state nor even of families but of the Church herself. And the Church communicates her own rights to the men and women by whom she accomplishes her mission. All of this shows that the Church's right to teach and to educate is not limited to religious instruction in the proper sense Of that word but also extends to all other matters the purpose of which is the formation of the spirit, of the heart, and of the will; it includes everything which is a means to charity and to love. Other papers of this convention have spoken to you compellingly, instructively, and ardently of the way to construct and rebuild the world and of the way to radiate the message of Christ in the world. This radiation and this reconstruction are not done merely by religious instruction in the strict sense of the word but by a religious instruc-tion that permeates all other matters. Every ray of truth, every treasure of goodness and beauty comes from God and leads back to God; it is by reason of this treasure of truth and goodness that one can lead the world to God. The philosopher Antonio Rosminl has written magnifi-cent pages on this aspect of education and on that unity of education which seeks to insert man and the Christian into the divine plan.2 It is this final!ty that justifies the Church's presence in schools of every kind from the pri-mary level up through the university. The place of the Church in education is linked to her authority. The teaching given by the Church is not merely a statement of the truth; it is rather a presentation of the truth made with authority but without violating con-sciences. Men speak of respect for freedom of conscience; the Church desires that the acceptance of the message of Christ be consciously voluntary; otherwise there can be neither education nor formation. The Church's right to instruct is connected with her power of jurisdiction which includes the two aspects of teaching and of ministry. But the Church instructs by presenting her truth in a way in which it will be accepted. She must prepare the human mind to welcome the truth; for these minds are made for truth as the will and the heart are made for goodness. It is the work of the Church and of those who represent the Church to present truth in ~ Antonio Rosmini, Sulla unittl dell'educazione (Rome: Tipografia del Senato, 1913). a way that corresponds to the exigencies of the mind and the needs of the heart. Communication of the Church's Mission Even when she takes into.account all the Earying de-grees of ministers in the hierarchy of orders and of juris-diction, the Church finds herself unable to attain by her-self an integral realization of her teaching mission. She must then--and this is so especially at the present time-- have recourse to the assistance of her other members. In our own times how providential has been the appeal to the laity to collaborate with the Church and to feel them-selves united in the action of the Church as participants in the mission of the Church. If she used only the hier-archy, how could the Church exercise among all nations her entire teaching function of formal religious training and of Christian formation by means of general teaching? Let us here recall that the Church seeks the aid and collaborati6n of other persons in a twofold way. First of all, the Church stresses the duties which flow from the natural law. So, for example, with regard to the family, it pertains to the parents to pro~)ide their children with an education. The Church calls them to fulfill this ob-ligation and to exercise their inalienable and pressing rights. Perhaps we too easily forget that families have an obligation to obtain for their children an education and that a Christian one. Besides this, the Church recalls the duty which devolves on every Christian as a result of baptism and confirmation'. Every Christian has the d~ity of radiating God, of making God known. Karl Marx, I believe, once said: "It is easy to be a saint if one is not solidary with society, if one does not feel responsible for society." What is true for every man in so far as he is social is particularly true for every member of (he Mystical Body. Each one is bound to the others by reason of baptism and confirmation. In an important text St. Thomas declares that "the con-firmed by reason of his state has the obligation of making the Church kno~vn, of defending her, and of spreading the doctrine of the Church." This is why the Church faces each Christian with his duty to collaborate. She emphasizes the consequences of baptism and of confirmation; and natu-rally she urges these consequences especially in the case of those whose situation permits them to aid her more easily. This is the reason why she.insists so solicitously that all Catholic educators be faithful to their baptismal com-mitments. These commitmems, it is true, are proper to all Christians; but among educators the practical possi-bilities are much greater. All Catholic educators, no .mat-ter at what level they teach, precisely because they are ÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 5O7 + ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS Catholic, should feel th~ obligation they.have to exercise their educative charge for the purpose of aiding the Church to realize her mission. I state this here because it is highly important that re-ligious teachers, when .preparing future teachers, should recall this fundamental duty of every Christian without consideration of membership in this or that association. It is not Only the teachers and other instructors belonging to organizations of Catholic Action who are bound to exercise the apostolate of teaching; every'teacher and every professor is so bound. Religious who form teachers must show them their special responsibility for this com-munication of truth and of Christian truth. There is a duty to radiate truth, divine.truth. His Excellency Bishop Ancel has recalled to us the missionary character of the school; the foregoing is an occasion to realize, propagate, and radiate this missionary character. The Church has recourse to the cooperation of the laity by giving them a particular charge, by conferring on them a mission and a responsibility, and by making them sharers in her own mission and rights. There is no doubt that the Church can commfinicate to others ithe mission that is proper to herself. This she does through the various de-grees of the hierarchy which are of ecclesiastical institu-tion. Nevertheless, the Church's power of delegating her proper mission is not limited to persons engaged in the hierarchy of jurisdiction or orders. She can also com-municate it to other persons without at the same time mak-ing them enter the hierarchy. It is in this way that she calls the laity to participate in her mission and hence to act and to teach in the name of the Church. The Church realizes this communication by making use of the riches of the kind of priesthood given to every Christian in baptism. To the title proper to baptism there is added a further title which unites itself to that of Christian and which is given to the Christian by the Church. It would be disastrous to build up in the Church an almost impregnable wall between the hierarchy and the faithful as though the hierarchy were the only active element and the faithful were p.urely passive. All of us know that according to the divine will a difference exists between clerics and laity, between :the various members of the hierarchy and those who are not part of the hier-archy. There can be no question of making the Church a democracy; nevertheless, those who are not members of the hierarchy do not form an exclusively passive element. Every Christian must be active; and, in some cases, the Church adds a further title to the activity of every Chris-tian. About this possibility of delegation there can be no doubt. On October 5, 1957, during the Congress of the ~.Apostolate of the Laity,' Plus XlI clarified once and for all this possibilityof communicating to the laity a mis-sion, a mandate, a canonical mission. "It is the same canonical mission," he said, "that the Church wishes to communicate to priests and to lay persons; but it'is exer-cised by the former in so far as they are priests; it will be exercised by lay persons in so far as they are lay persons."8 This communication of the Church's proper mission to lay persons can be realized in different degrees. In the Church there is a providential and.remarkable variety of forms. The Church is a living ~and fecund reality; she pos-sesses within herself an abundance of riches which she manifests in the course of history according to the needs of the times and of the persons she must lead to God."Ac-cordingly the teaching mission, of the Church can be com-municated tO lay persons in a greater or lesser degree, (When I speak of a lesser degree, I have no intention of minimizing the role of those who participate in the mis-sion of the Church in a limited degree. Every vocation in the Church is excellent and we must avoid comparisons for they are always odioug.) The lesser degree is that which the Church entrusts to lay persons who juridically remain in the position of simple lay persons. The fact that they are invited to work with the Church does not separate them from other lay persons; it does ,not make them a special class in the Church. They rerfiain lay persons liv-ing in the world under the same conditions as the other faithful. Nevertheless, one can say--I am thinking here espe-cially of Catholic Action organizations--that the Church adds a new title to that which these Catholics already possess as private persons. They possess their private title as well as a title given, to them by civil authority for the exercise of the profession of teaching. (When I speak here of civil authority I am referring to the area in which civil authority is competent; unfortunately we all know from experience that it can exceed its competency.) Civil au-thority for the sake of the public good can organize the preparation required for the exercise of certain functions. To this title which lay persons possess the Church adds a supplementary title, an ecclesial one, which, as I have said, does not remove them from their fundamental con-dition. Their association with the educative mission of the Church is, let us say, a generic one; it involves a part of their time and Of their capabilities; it ennobles their work and gives them a certain representativeness of the Church. s Les Lai'ques dam l'Eglise. Documents du DeuxiOme Congr~s Mon-dial pour l'Apostolat des Lai'ques, Rome, 5"13 octobre, 1957. V. 1, pp. 14-16. + + + The Tea~hlng Sister VOLUME 21, 19(:,2 509 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In the Congress on the Lay Apostolate which I.have al-ready mentioned, Cardinal Montini in the course of a conference treated the different degrees of ecclesial repre-sentativeness conferred on lay persons; he emphasized the role which they.possess o[ representing the Church in a more or less varied way according to the varying ecclesial context. One must not think that a member of Catholic Action is representing the Church in all his actions and in all his different activities. The Cardinal also emphasized the fact that the repre-sentative role of lay persons is proportioned to the ec-clesiastical character of the profession and of .their activ-ity; they are not representative of the Church in everything and for everything. A Catholic professor, for example, is not the representative of the Church in his other activi-ties; he possesses an ecclesial personality which is limited to a determined sphere and to a special sector; in other words he possesses a mandate. Even here the degree of representativeness is not always the same; and the passage from ecclesial representativeness to individual activity is a gradual one. On different occasions the ~sembly of the Cardinals and Archbishops of France have clearly deline-ated the mandate that is given to lay persons; likewise. Pius XII spoke of the mandate conferred on Catholic Action: "Carry. out the mandate which the Church has given to the members of Catholic Action." Here again there is question of a mandate which leaves lay persons in their proper situation; it organizes them indeed into a juridical entity, but this entity is not so profound or so absorbing as to change their condition. The mandate of collaboration with the Church which is conferred on the members of Catholic Action, while it is a true mandate, yet does not transform their juridical condition: they re-main private persons. Over and beyond this lesser degree of representativeness of the Church there is a greater degree given to lay per-sons; it involves a greater degree of association with the teaching mission of the Church; it is the degree given to religious who are destined and consecrated to education. To these the Church communicates a mandate and a mis-sion which makes them share her proper mission in the highest degree possible short of entrance into the ranks of the hierarchy. I would almost say that teaching religious reach to the very limits of the hierarchy. Nevertheless, we must .not be presumptuous and desire to enter the hierarchy. However, religious devoted to edu-cation are completely invested with an ecclesial function; by this fact they become representatives of the Church--, always and in all their actions and activities. In the action and activities of religious we can not introduce the dis- tinctions which can be made in the case of ordinary lay persons. Since they are entirely consecrated to the mission of the Church, they are completely invested with this ec-clesial representation; they no longer work as private per-sons called by reason of their profession to aid the Church and to collaborate with her in cert~iin ways according as time and the dutiesof their state in life permit. Religious, however, have only one duty in their state of life: to work for the Church and in the name of the Church. Religious do not merely have one title which is added to another; rather their title and their rights are conferred on them entirely by the Church. Both in educa-tion and in teaching they possess a mandate given them by. the Church, and the juridical position they enjoy is entirely communicated to them by the Church. This does not exclude the fact that to this ecclesial title there may be added other titles; for example, that given them by families. Families have the right to choose the educators of their children; hence they can choose re-ligious. In this case the family communicates its rights to these religious. Nevertheless, their fundamental right remains the one communicated to them. by the Church herself. So also the state can give a title to religious, but tills will always be a secondary one. The right of religious to teach depends neither on the will of the parents nor on the will of the state. We realize, of course, that parents have a right to teach and this independently of the Church. Religious teaching goes back to the Church who communicates her rights and her obligations to religious as her ministers. Accordingly religious are invested with a mission and a mandate that is totally ecclesial; it is such at every moment and in every circumstance. The teaching done by religious is performed in the Church for the good of the Church in the name of the Church. Religious, let it be repeated, are invested with the very personality of the Church. It is the Church, a per-fect society and a juridical one, that teaches and instructs through them. This should be clearly fixed in the minds both of superiors and of teaching religious. Perhaps some may think that I insist overly much on the idea that religious have an ecclesial mandate. I think, however, that it is fundamental because all their obliga-tions and r!ghts flow therefrom. Their responsibility is rooted in this communication of a mandate, in this ec-clesial function which, as I have said, becomes their whole reason of existence. They do not contribute their, hours of time accordingly as their taste impels them to their work; they are not their own masters; they belong to the Church and precisely for this function. They have a moral and juridical obligation in conscience to be at the disposi- + + + The Teaching Si~ter VOLUME 21, 1962 511 ÷ ÷ ÷ llliO Gambarl, S.M .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tion of the Church and to perform everything that the Church demands of them. One can and should apply to teaching religious the magnificent remark of Pius XII to hospital religious at the Congress of 1957: "It is the Church that supports the feeble steps of the old." And the Pope went on to give an almost poetic description of the Church which in the per-. son of the hospital sister assists the dying, the newly born, the aged; this description the Pope repeated in his great encyclical Sacra Virginitas. Pius XII was a poet but also a jurist. What the Pope said on these occasions to hospital. religious is also true of all religious and of teaching re-ligious in particular. While charitable assistance, hospital or social, can be assumed by other organizations, religious formation can not be; it is proper to the Church. Hence the statement made by the Pope should be given a'juridi-cal justification; we must show its juridical foundation. The Juridical Foundation One can well ask how the teaching.religious becomes invested with a mandate; furthermore what arethe juridi-cal foundations of this mandate? To this we reply that the religiousis invested with a mandate because his institute has been established by the Church, because the constitu-tions and rules have been approved by the Church, and because the religious vows, since they are public, have been received by the Church. Establishment oI the .Religious Institute Religious institutes are juridical organizations formally founded by the Church for a definite apostolic purpose. The true founder of a religious institute is not this or that mother, or this or that saint. The formal founder is the Church; she is therefore for us holy Mother Church in a double sense. Founders only prepare the matter to which the Church gives the breath of life. The whole pur-pose of these institutes is entirely ecclesial; this purpose gives them an existence that is not a private matter but a public one; consequently their ,existence touches on the fundamental constitution of the Church. The juridical existence given by the Church to a re-ligious family is different in nature from the one she gives to pious ~issociations or unions of the faithful. One can say, I believe, wittiout fear of denial, that the establish-men~ of a religious institute has cfose analogies with the establishment of a diocese in the sense that the Church is territorially organized for all persons on the basis of dioceses while for some of these persons she is organized on the basis of religious institutes. A religious institute is not a mere spontaneous and free grouping either in its foundation or in its continued ex-istence; once the institute has been established and once one has entered it, one finds oneself linked with a juridi-cal organization which is obligatory both from the view-point of conscience and that of the society as such. While a member of an organization, of a confraternity, or even of Catholic Action, can withdraw for personal reasons without any obligation of giving an account of his de-cision to anyone, this is not the case for religious. They have entered a state that is intimately fundamental to the Church; they no longer belong to themselves but to the Church. It is important to note that a religious institute is not an organization of merely personal and individual perfec-tion and sanctification. The religious institute has a pub-lic function in the Church; it is the. official, juridical, public expression of the holiness of the Church. And it is remarkable to contemplate how in the course of centuries religion, pertaining as it does to individual and public perfection, has enriched itself with the fundamental and basic element that is the apostolate and how it has given rise to religious families essentially consecrated to holiness and the apostolate. This is especially interesting here in France where were born the first religious institutes of women consecrated to the apostolate: the different congregations of the Ursu-lines; the canonesses of St. Augustine of St. Peter Fourier; the Congregation of Religious of Notre Dame of St. Joan de Lestonnac; as well as many others. Besides it was in France that there grew up the congregations which have spread throughout the entire world (for example, the Daughters of Charity, the~ Sisters of St. Joseph). All of these are the first and highly significant examples of these institutes of holiness and the apostolate. What I wish to emphasize at this point is that in these institutes the apostolate is not an accessory, accidental, and secondary element; it is an essential one and as prin-cipal as is the pursuit of perfection. Moreover, this ele-ment of the apostolate shares fully in the institute's public and ecclesial character. The fact that the Church erects an institute for perfection and for the apostolate confers an entirely ecclesial character and mission on the institute. The document that establishes a teaching religious in-stitute determines its finality and its purpose by har-moniously combining the sanctification of its members and the apostolic ideal of education. The juridical ex-istence and character conferred on the institute are shared in by the mission which is assigned it. The apostolate of the institute shares in the juridical nature of the institute itself. Religious life in an institute destined for the apos-÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, $.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 514 tolate is a consecration to God both in perfection and in the apostolate; it is both a state of perfection and a state of the apostolate. Take, for example, the constitutions of the Ursulines, of the religious of the Assumption, and oI other teaching institutes; in them is to be found this fun-damentally apostolic element given them by the Church in such a way that these, institutes and these religious have their whole purpose of existence in this mission. Approbation of the Constilutions The Church not only gives an institute its juridical ex-istence but she also governs it, gives it rules and constitu-tions which derive their force not from the general chap-ter nor from the superior general but from the Church. Hence when the constitutions impose teaching, (t is the Church which imposes it. In this case teaching is not a private initiative stemming from the institute and its members; it is rather an imposition made by the Church, an imposition which may have been requested but which nevertheless does not cease to be a thing that comes from above. This is true to the extent that whatever religious do, they do by reason of a title communicated to them from above; that is, from the.Church. The constitutions, once they have received pontifical approval, become pon-tifical law. One Can and must say that the contents of these laws receive an ecclesial character. The document that establishes the institute and its con-stitutions brings it about that an ecclesial mandate and a canonical mission to teach is given to the institute and that through the institute it passes to the individual mem-bers. The activity of religious is not .left to their personal choice; it is entirely ruled by authority--by an authority that is not private in nature. The Holy Father Plus XII in his discourse to superiors general on February I 1, 1958 --and this applies also to all superiors--stated: "You govern with an authority that I have giyen you; you share in my authority." Accordingly, it is the authority of the Church that regulates the matter of teaching. Public Vows Let me now consider a third point which also illustrates that ecclesial character which perhaps was better ex-pressed in former times by the fact that institutes dedi-cated to teaching wanted from their origin to have a spe-cial vow of education. Thus ihe Ursulines, the canonesses, the Brothers of the Christian Schools took a vow to conse-crate themselves to teaching. This vow was a public one like the other vows of religion; hence it was accepted by the Church, sanctioned by the Church, offered to God ifil the name of the Church, and--what is most important-~ lived in the name of the Church. This vow expressed the public and ecclesial character of teaching. At the present time this public vow is not explicitly expressed because it is contained in the vow of obedience. Teaching is one of the principal elements of the vow of obedience. In teaching institutes 6he promises obedience above all with regard to being employed in teaching. This is true to such an extent that the articles of the constitu-tions which.concern teaching are not articles which simply oblige one to assume certain obligations; they are ,articles that touch the very purpose of the institute and which oblige in conscience; they regulate the specific purpose of the institute. Religious who have made a vow of obedi-ence are bound by reason of their religious profession to devote themselves to teaching. It is interesting to note how in the history of religious life of apostolic institutes a phenomenon took place that is identical with what hap-pened in the case of contemplative institutes. In their profession ceremonies nuns dedicated to prayer receive the book of the Divine Office in order that they might pray in the name of the Church. What has happened in the case of apostolic institutes? These religious are given the constitutions; through this they are given the children and all those who will benefit by their teaching; the result is that at profession there is realized for each member what was realized for the institute as such at the moment of its establishment and of the approval of its constitu-tions. It is at the moment of profession that the superior gives to the new religious the book of the constitutions and the mandate to work in the name of the Church; the religious is thus consecrated to God in and through teach-ing. The vow of obedience and its entire content gi~ie to the profession a public character; hence the apostolate of teaching also becomes public, exercised, that is to say, in the name of the Church. In the encyclical Sacra Virginitas the Holy Father extols the motherhood of religious who receive in trust young Christian generations to form them in the name of the Church or, better, to continue and de-velop the virginal fecundity of the Church herself. I have recently been reading an interesting study which develops the. comparison between the Church and the Blessed Virgin, between the Church and the religious, in their role of forming Christians. Pontifical Statements These fundamental juridical arguments have been re-echoed in numerous pontifical statements that present teaching religious as collaborators of the Pope. Plus XII at the Congress of Teaching Religious in 1951 thanked ÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 515 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, $.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 516 the members for the valuabl.e work of collaboration they give to the Vicar of Christ. The same Pope at the beatifica-tion of Rose Venerini recalled a remark of Clement XI to the future Blessed: "Madame Rose, you are helping Us to fulfill Our task and you are doing what We could not do by Ourselves; for this We thank you greatly." These words of Clement XI to Rose Venerini have been repeated on numerous occasions by sovereign pontiffs with regard to religious devoted to education. In a document of 1954 concerning teaching brothers sent by the Pope to Cardinal Valeri, the charge and the role confided to teaching re-ligious are emphasized. One could assemble a magnifi-cent anthology of such pontifical declarations relating to the association of teaching religious with the action of the Church, to the work they accomplish for the Church, and to the gratitude of the sovereign pontiffs who have said among other things: "What would We do without you?" Indeed, if religious should one day wish to call a strike in their schools, it is my belief that the greater part of Catholic establishments would be closed. But let us limit ourselves to a few texts: How could the Church have been able in past times to fully accomplish her mission without the help that hundreds of thousands of religious have given so zealously in the fields of education and of charity? How Could she do so in our own time? (Allocution of October 15, 1951). Thanks to the work of your motherly hands., the Church sustains the feebleness of old age; thanks to the tenderness of your hearts, she rekindles the souls of little orphans; and thanks to the ardor of your devotion, she assists the sick . " (Allocution of April 24, 1957). The Church then counts upon you as the appropriate in-struments which priests should use for the perfect formation of young womanhood (Allocution of January 3, 1958). The actual teaching of the Church puts special emphasis on the ecclesial char~icter of the religious; in and through her the Church realizes her purpose, communicates life, and fulfills the work of Christ her Spouse (Sacra Virginitas). Mission of the Teaching Religious Now I wish to emphasize briefly for you certain char-acteristics of the mission which religious have received {tom the.Church. This mission has a juridical, public, pontifical charac-ter. This sharing in the very mission of the Church is given to the religious not by the pastor who requests her for teaching catechism nor even from the bishop; it is given to her by the Pope, the Vicar of Christ. But since everything in the Church should be done according to order, this mission given to religiom by the Pope may be exercised in a territory only with the consent and ratifica-tion of the authority represented by the pastor of the diocese who, in accepting the community, g!ves it the freedom to exercise its work of the apostolate.4 The character of the mission, then, is pontifical; but it must be coordinated with the apostolate of the diocese. And here it is right to make religious realize the necessity of not being a closed city but rather an intense center of collaboration with all the apostolic activities of the dio-cese. It is necessary that each Teligious house be a source Of~ the apostolate not only within itself but around itself. Consequences I turn now to the consequences that flow from the mis-sion conferred on teaching religious by the Church. The first consequence is that the mission of the reli-gious is ecclesial and spiritual, Even if from an exterior viewpoint a religious seems to exercise a profession, this is only an external mark and appearance; interiorly the religious is an apostle; she represents the Church; she ex-ercises a ministry. This is wh~ Plus XII stated that teach-ing is a kind of priesthood and that the teaching religious participates in a certain sense in the priesthood (Allocu-tion of January 4, 1954). And Saint John Baptist de la Salle, who forbade his brothers to become priests since everyone in the Church has his own Cole and comparison should not be made among them, reminded the brothers that teaching is like a priesthood; in a.magnificent medi-tation (number. 195) he applied to teaching brothers everything that the Apostle said about the sacred min-ister: "You are the .dispensers of the mysteries of God; you communicate the bread of the word of God.''5 Like the minister of the altar, the educator breaks the bread of the word of God; he prepares Christian life, the meeting and communion with God. This character also marks the teaching of so-called profane matters. The teaching religious carries on the apostolate in and through teaching. Profane matters are not merely occa-sions for the apostolate of a teaching religious; the teach-ing of such is itself an apostolate. The Church has only an apostolic finality; and this is the ultimate purpose of a Christian school. The second consequence is that the religious has no personality other than the personality of the Church. Greatness implies duties; hence she must always act as befits this personality of the Church. Hence comes the ' See canon 497~ § 2. s See Fr. Michel Sauvage, F.Sc.X., "Finalit~ ~postolique de notre Institut d'apr~s les M~ditations pour le temps de la Retraite," in Bulletin des Frdres des Ecoles Ghrdtiennes, October, 19ill, pp. 131--43. 4. 4. 4" The Tea~hbtg Sister VOLUME 2I, 1962 517 4. 4. ÷ l~lio Gamba~i, S.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIG|O~JS 518 striking difference between secular teaching and religious teaching. The first is done by reason of a personal or par-ticular title in the name of the family or in the name of the state; the second has no other personality save that which is given by the Church. Hence it is that the sector of work is limited for religious, that their way of devoting themselves to teaching is subject to restraints. It is under-standable that superiors are sometimes embarrassed by this; and it may happen that they are heard to say: "Our state as religious, the framework of religious life, seems to be a hindrance in certain cases." This is possible; but is not such a disadvantage on the natural and professional level slight when compared to the immense benefit de-rived from their ecclesial character and when compared to the charge of personifying the Church in the exercise of the~teaching profession? To this title of representing the Church there may be added other ones: the charge entrusted to them by the parents who have the right to choose their own substitutes as the educators of their children; the charge entrusted by civil society. If there are elements of the religious life which consti-tute by their nature a hindrance and an obstacle to the. efficacy of education, then there is place for the appli-cation of the counsels of renovation and adaptation. We can not demand that students fit into our religious life; it is the responsibility of religious to adapt themselves to concrete circumstances in those things which concern their students. If properly understood, this can be done without sacrificing or eliminating the constitutix~e ele-ments of religious life. In any case the central idea here is this: the activity oi~ religious is not a profession; it is a kind of priesthood.; it is a ministry, an ecclesial one, which carries with it all the greatness and the responsibility proper to the educative ministry of the Church. The third consequence is that the religious has the right to teach, a right that is given by the Church. Anyone who attacks this right of religious and who hinders the exercise of this right, attacks the Church and the rights of the Church. Numerous documents show us that the Popes have intervened to defend religious and Catholic schools as pertaining to inalienable rights of the Church. One can not touch Catholic schools or teaching religious without touching the Church. One of the lessons of history is that those who wish to fight the Church begin by fighting teaching religious. This has happened in different countries and I have no doubt that it will happen again. The reason for this is that teaching religious in their teaching really radiate the . action.of the Church. Whoever possesses youth, possesses society; and whoever possesses society, possesses the state. Hence religious, since they have youth in their schools, exercise a definite influence on al! of society. His Excellency Bishop Ancel has reminded us of the need there is for religious who are capabl~ of teaching religion. According to canon 1373, § 2 those who attend secondary and. higher schools are to be instructed in Christian doctrine; the ordinaries are to see to it that this mission is fulfilled by zealous and well-prepared priests. Does this canon exclude teaching religious arid brothers from the teaching of religion? In their schools is it the work of priests to give the courses in religion? Not at all. Speaking personally and as one who teaches law, I would say that this rule does .not apply formally to institutions which are held by men and women religious. The insti-tutes of teaching religious have been established and or-ganized by the Church primarily for the teaching of re-ligion; it is this that they are bound to in the first place; for this their members must be prepared in a special way. This does not mean that they can teach independently of the bishop, for it is he who gives or confirms their man-date. The bishop, having accepted teaching religious, should not look elsewhere for teachers of religion if these religious meet the demands of religious teaching. The in-stitutes are thereby obliged to fulfil the necessary condi-tions, and the bishop has the right and duty to control how religion is taught in the schools held by religious in his diocese.~ A fourth and very important consequence is the re-sponsibility that flows from all this for religious. If they share in the mission of the Church, they also bear all her responsibility. It may sometimes happen that we forget that we are not sealed-off compartments in the Church, cells separated from all the rest. On the contrary, we exist as a function of the entire Church; if the personality of the Church is communicated to us, this involves not only all her rights but all her duties as well. Superiors and the sisters themselves can truly say that they carry on their shoulders the weight of the entire Church. This is not merely a manner of speaking; it is a reality which results from their universal mandate. The religious has a re-sponsibility that surpasses the limits of the parish and of the diocese to extend to the extremities of the earth; she has assumed the educative responsibilities.of the Church. Superiors as well as subjects must come to a realization of this responsibility which includes mission, duties, and rights. From this flows a fifth consequence: the serious re-eSee canon 13~6, 1381, §§ 2-3. + + + The Tearhing Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 519 Elio Gambari, $.M .M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 520 sponsibility that superiors have to provide for the forma-tion of true educators. It is not a question of preparing only young religious who are goo~t and delicate in con-science but who have only a rudimentary training for the task which awaits them. It is rather a question of forming servants of the Chur'ch who ought to respond to the needs and necessities of the entire Church. Greatness involves duties; and the. prestige of the Church herself is at stake. Pope Pius XII has enjoined us to see that the religious school is not inferior to other schools but rather superior to them even from the technical and professional view-point. And is it not the teacher above all that makes the superiority of a school? To give to a teacher the interior and exterior prestige .due to professional worth is a mis-sion interior to culture itself. We all rightly lament the decline in religious vocations; but it may be asked whether besides a numerical lack there is not also an insufficiency of quality. One of the best ways of increasing vocations is first of all to utilize to the utmost and to make the most of those whom the Lord has already sent. If superiors know how to communicate this ideal, to the young subjects who present themselves to their communities and if they succeed in organizing for them a program of formation which corresponds to the needs of the mission to be performed, the results will recompense the efforts expended. They will have placed at the disposition of the Church riches and forces of the utmost importance. We are all aware what the Church demands of religious in the matter of formation and how she is always developing and improving the course pre-paratory to the sacred ministries. The complaint is made that there are no vocations; but if we make an examina-tion of conscience, it can be asked whether there are not enough vocations because teaching is not sufficiently ecclesial. In one of his allocutions Pius XII stated: "One mark of the teaching that truly corresponds to the direc-tives of the Church is that it arouses vocations. When you have religious and priestly vocations in your schools, then you are sure that your teaching is truly ecclesial." But there is another aspect I would like to emphasize. It is true that there is a lack of vocations; but do we channel and utilize the vocations we possess? I am not speaking of physical powers, but of moral forces, intel-lectual and moral values and capacities. There will always be a disproportion with the needs of the school today and with the necessities that must be met. But what is im-portant is that superiors act in such a way that the reli-gious who have entered the institute at the call of God and of the Church should find themselves in the possi-bility of self-development and of giving to the institute, to. the Church, and to souls everything of which they are capable. For this it is necessary to educate them and to develop in them everything which they are capable of giving. I believe--and this is an entirely personal remark that we have not sufficiently formed our religious in their spiritual, apostolic, and professional aspects. His Excel-lency Bishop Ancel has told us of the duty of the cultural apostolate through one's profession. It is necessary that religious should have in the name of the Church and to give prestige to the Church a prestige from the cultural and professional aspect. How is it possible to conceive that persons who work and who study in order to improve their professional standing or for a higher salary should be superior from the professional viewpoint to persons who teach because of the love of God and of souls? But unfortunately it happens that we do not take sufficient account of cultural prestige. I do not mean that external prestige to which perhaps too much account is taken; I am referring to that interior richness which is so impor-tant and which ennobles your schools and the Church her-self. Conclusion I shall conclude my conference by saying that the ecclesial mission confided to religious is the continuation on earth of the mystery of the Incarnation; hence it is a prolongation throughout the course of the centuries of the role of the Blessed Virgin with regard to the Savior and to the Church. There is no Christian life that should not be marial. In particular does not the religious edu-cator find in the Virgin Mother an ideal example of her own vocation? She is more than an example, for she is the first educator and teacher, the one who has given us substantial Truth, the incarnate Word of God, the Truth of God. In the constitution Sedes Sapientiae the Pope held up before the eyes of those who form others as well as before the eyes of those who are to be formed the radiant image of the holy Virgin, the Seat of Wisdom, the Throne of the incarnate Word; she it is who, although not pertaining to the hierarchy, received from God the mission to give us the Word, the consubstantial Utterance; and it is still she who wishes to continue this mission through the work of each teaching institute and in each teaching religious. ÷ ÷ + The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 19~,2 521 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Psychological Needs in The Religious Context Thomas Dubay, S.M., is a faculty member of Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisi-ana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The strictest of religious orders have always agreed that their members must eat, drink, and ~'elax. Congregations may vary in the amount and quality of the food, beverage, and recreation they permit, but they are of one mind in principle: men and women have bodily needs that must be met; and if they are not met, nature will have its venge-ance. But we are not so well assured that religious commu-nities are fu!ly aware that their members have psychologi-cal needs every bit as real as their corporeal ones. We are not confident that even given the high contemporary in-cidence of mental disordel~s and the widespread popular literature dealing with man's psychological ailments, our present day religious men and women really grasp the concept of mental needs. And if this lack of confidence is realistically based, we are justified in suggesting that the psychological needs of priests, brothers, and sisters are often not met or at least are not met in as happy a way as we might hope. The Problem The mere experience of living some years in a religious community and especially the experience of working with the spiritual problems of consecrated souls make clear the fact that man does not live by bread alone. Only too fre-quently does one who works with religious meet persons who are beset with serious problems with apparently in-tangible roots, problems that are not due to physical ill-ness nor to a dislike for the religious life as such nor to ill will nor to difficulty with the vows. Unless he cuts off a full discussion by the prompt and pat solution, he will often find that the problem is due to poor adjustment in the community or to a lack of security or to inferiority feel-ings or to a whole collection of assorted fears or to an un-satisfied hunger for affection. And this is to say that the problem is psychogenic. A man or woman does not have to be neurotic or psychotic in order to suffer from psychologi-cal malnutrition. Just as the human person can be under-nourished in the bodily sense without being therefore seriously ill, so can he be underfed in the mental and emo-tional sense without being seriously deranged. But the similarity can be pushed a step .further. Just as prolonged and marked malnutrition.can issue in grave illness on the physical level, so can it on the mental. However, we are not directly concerned in this study with serious mental illness. We are not even concerned with illness as such. We are concerned with the simple fact that religious priests, brothers, and sisters have psychological needs in common with the rest of men, needs that must be satis-factorily met within the context of their vocations if they are to function normally, happily, and holily. Whence Psychological Needs? Only an imperfect being experiences need. This is so because need bespeaks a lack of something due: comple-mentation, aid, perfection. God does not need because He is the fullness of perfection. Man needs because he is in-herently imperfect, limited by his potencies. Man needs on three levels because he is subject to three types of imper-fection or limitation: physical, psychological, supernatu-ral. His eating, drinking, working, recreating are remedial of his physical needs. His prayers, reception of the sacra-ments, practice of the virtues are aimed at satisfying his supernatural deficiencies. He can grow normally on nei-ther of these two levels unless these needs and deficiencies are met. The same must be said of his psychological perfectibil-ity. Man is mentally and emotionally imperfect. He needs to grow and to be fed in his intellect and will and emo-tions. He has psychological needs that donning a religious habit does not delete. He may act as though these needs do not exist. He may ignore them, hoping that they will go away. But they will not. More than that, if they are neglected, they will catch up with him and make him pay a price for his foolishness. For the same reason that bodily needs arise from incom-pleteness and imperfection in the organism, so do psycho-logical needs arise from an incompleteness and imperfec-tion in one's mental-emotional life. Man needs precisely because he is an unfinished being seeking ends as yet un-attained. Meeting Psychological Needs in Religious Lile In God's providential plan for man, every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality develop-ment together with (and we might add, because of) their Psychological Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 523 $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity. Marriage aims not only at the preservation, and increase of the human family but also at the individual good o1! husband and wife, and that on all levels, physical, psycho. logical, supernatural. Such is true also of the religiou,,; state, for a vowed consecration to God is orientated toward. both individual and communal goods. From the point of view of the individual good the re-ligious life is directed toward the fulfillment of the. per. son's whole being, the actualization of as many of his po-. tentialities as possible. If it is true that the religious is imperfect on physical, psychological, and supernatural. levels, it follows that the institute must provide for the per-fecting process on all three levels, not only on the first and the third. If it does not so provide, it is harming both the individual and the group. A prolonged unsatisfied psycho-logical need leaves the human person truncated, ill at ease, unhappy, and even at times frustrated and neurotic. More-over, an ill personality is a marked hindrance to the achievement of sanctity. One may dispute whether a neu-rotic can be a saint, but he may not dispute the fact that neurotic tendencies are hurdles in the path to sanctity. They are imperfections, and imperfections can aid one in acquiring holiness only per accidens, incidentally. From the point of view of the common good, the insti-tute hui-ts itself likewise for the obvious reasons that a~ psychologically ill-adjusted member can cripple commu-nity effectiveness, peace, and joy. This member is himself less productive in that part of the community's apostolate committed to him, and he often enough is an impediment to the productiveness of his companions. For the same reasons, then, that a religious congrega-tion is interested in promoting the physical welfare of its members through ,satisfying their bodily requirements, so should it be concerned about furthering their mental wel-fare through meeting their psychological needs. What are these .needs? And how can they be met in the religious context? Realization of. Personal Worth The first of man's general psychological needs with which we propose to deal sends its tap root deep into meta-physical truth. This need sends up a cry from the depths of man's being, a cry that demands of a man that he eval-uate himself rightly, realistically, according to what he is. The metaphysical truth pertinent here is axiomatic: every being is good. Insofar as a thing is, it is valuable; it is a good, good for itself and good for others as well. Surely, to be is immeasurably better for a given reality than not to be. To be a reflection of the divine goodness is likewise a glory for Another. Since reality is good, worthwhile, valuable, it can come as no surprise that deeply hidden in man's psyche is a yearning that he recognize and acknowledge to himself his own value, his own worth. Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic value, that he isimportant, worth-while. Religious are no exception. Their psychology, like that of the rest of men, reflects the metaphysical law that being is good. Drastic consequences can follow in a man who is really .persuaded that he is worthless.,Selbconfidence is paralyzed and the energetic pursuance of a task becomes almost im-possible: Inferiority feelings may fill the conscious mo-ments of. each day and make healthy prayer and construc-tive thinking mere fond wishes. The man or woman who is devoid of a realization of personal worth is not thereby humble. He or she is ill, psychologically ill. A religious formation in postulancy, novitiate, or ju-niorate that "humiliates" the young candidates into think-ing that they are next to worthless has done both them and the institute a disservice. It is perfectly true that without God we are nothing, but it is just as true that we are not without God. With Him and from Him and through Him we are a great deal. A.realistic self-esteem is not incompatible with the deep-est humility. 0nly exaggerated selbesteem issuch. Christ Himself was well aware of His perfection and infinite worth, and yet He practised the most sublime humility. Priests, brothers, and sisters need to esteem themselves if they are going to be mentally healthy. And there are any number of just reasons for thi~ judgment of self-worth, all of them consonant with humility. We ought to rate ourselves highly because of our God-given rational nature, a nature that marvelously elevates us above the rest of visible creation. If God could judge on the day of'creation that the inanimate earth was "ex-tremely good," what must He think of man whom He placed at the peak of visible reality to rule it? The religious ought to rate himself even more highly because of his state of grace and his unspeakable destiny, the face-to-face vi-sion and enjoyment of the Trinity. He must be precious in the sight of this Trinity, for God became man for his sake and went to the death on a cross for him. What better proof can we have of our personal worth than the fact that God loves us? "For God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that those who believe in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting" (Jn 3:16). If God loves us, we must be lovable. Since God's love is communicative of the goodness that He loves, we must grant that He has a special love for re-ligious on whom He bestows the special goodness of a con-secrated vocation. ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~2~ A priest, brother, sister are good indeed. And honesty demands that they recognize their goodness. So does their psychological w~lfare. How can the religious life foster both a healthy selb esteem and a salutary humility? The norm must be reality, nothing artificial, nothing exaggerated, nothing.pseudo. Formation personnel must teach humility according to sound principles, such as those of St. Thomas presented in his Summa of Theology. They must not give postulants, novices, and juniors the impression that they are of small worth. They should not so harp on a candidate's faults that he imperceptibly imbibes the unhealthy conviction that he is thoroughly inferior and will be of little use in the apostolate. Like the rest of the human race a religious man or woman simply cannot function smoothly and ade-quately unless he is aware of his basic worth. Novice mas-ters and mistresses must teach this as well as the bases for genuine humility, God's excellence and our utter depend-ence on Him. Those engaged in formation work should heed theology's careful formulation of its concept of hu-mility. It is a virtue which moderates (not destroys) one's desire for his own excellence and prompts him to evaluate himself as he is. Humility, of course, prompts a man to love to be hidden in God and unknown among men, but this is not to say that it encourages inactivity or damages magnanimity. By it "each one regards the others as his superiors" (Phil 2:3), but this does not imply that a man deny his own good. Religious, superiors and subjects alike, foster a salutary sense of self-worth in their companions by a deep and sin-cere reverence, respect, and politeness. We may remark in this connection that those in authority precisely because they are in authority experience a special openness to fail-ure on this point. Especially can the superiors of large communities begin without realizing it to act toward the rank and file as though they were indistinguishable, in-habitants of the religious habit, almost mere numbers in a personnel register. When a higher superior, for example, treats a sister indifferently, coldly, or with an artificial smile or greeting, who can be surprised if the sister sees this coldness as a reflection on her personal value? If this sort of treatment is repeated by enough people, we can at least fear that this religious' need for a wholesome self-esteem is being shoddily met. What we say of superiors in this context applies also to companion religious.4 ll should show reverence to all: old toward young as well as young toward old, well-educated toward the less well-educated as well as vice versa. The fundamental reverence of religious for one another is founded on more substantial grounds than age and ad-vanced degrees. One may argue that people striving after perfection ought not to need small marks of politeness and esteem in order to maintain and further their psychologieal health. Possibly so. But the hard fact remains that these people are human and many of them do need this food for their personality growth. The common life, unless well lived, can have a damag-ing effect on a man or woman's need to be considered an individual. While this life is good and conducive to hu-mility, yet that goodness does not .imply that commonness and individuality must always be opposed. We feel that a religious' need for self-esteem is properly answered by small marks of indir~idual consideration: praise for a work well done, .greeting on his feast day, non-prying inquiry about the family back home, the noticing and considering of personal preferences. These marks of individual con-sideration are not merely psychologically beneficial for the recipient; they are supernaturally advantageous for the one bestowing. What are a word of praise, a feast day greeting, an interested inquiry, the recognition of a prefer-ence but the basic marks of the fraternal love religious are to have for one another: "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 95:40). We must be careful that we do not restrict our fraternal love to pious affections at prayer. These latter must be prolonged into the hard arena of daily contact. A superior especially can contribute to a subject's sense of personal worth in a number of inconspicuous ways. A word of commendation for work well done means even more for a religious when it issues from his superior than when it comes from an. equal. Then, too, the man or woman in charge should not be above asking for ideas and opinions and advice from subordinates. Even aside from the obvious benefit that will accrue to him, he will aid his fellow religious in realizing that their views are valued and hence that they themselves have value. Further, a superior should be generous in providing an unrushed hearing to any who wish to approach him with their problems. This is especially true of religious women. One can easily ap-preciate the psychological harm done when a sister finds that her superior seldom has time to see her or, when she is available, b~ushes the sister off in summary fashion and with a pat a.nswer that solves nothing. The sister may draw the conclusion, and unfortunately there is basis for it, that administration and reports are more importantin the su-perior's eyes than the sister is. A superior should likewise make an effort to initiate and provide conveniences for individuals: the use of a car, a bit of extra rest, the pur-chase of a useful tool of employment, an unusual but needed permission. Superiors must be concerned not only with the common welfare of the group but also with the 4, 4. 4- Psychological VOLUME 21, 1962 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 52g particular needs o[ individuals. In large communities this kindly foresight requires a generous heart together with a gift for detail, but no one can deny that it contributes not a little to a family' spirit and a healthy sense of personal Worth. Finally, the superior should encourage his subjects to use their initiative and develop their talents. Even when he must refuse a permission in an "initiative matter," he should do so with open reluctance and should leave the re-ligious with the impression that more new ideas will be welcome in the future. Then there is the question of corrections. Badly exe-cuted they can do notable psychological damage, espe-cially with the young and with timorous souls beset with the fringes of inferiority feelings. As a class religious are better able to receive corrections with a reasonable out-ward equanimity, but one would be naive to think that most of them are exempt from a more or less deep inner pain. Nor are most exempt from sustaining psychological harm especially in their early years in the religious life from too frequent or clumsily executed corrections. We are not opposed to corrections. Healthy realism de-- mands that a man recognize the fact that he is going to err and to fail and that at times he will need correction if not for bad will at least for faulty judgment. But we are op-posed to damaging corrections, corrections that leave the subject with the limp feeling that he must be of small value to the community, rather tolerated than appreci-ated. To avoid this sort of result, a superior should correct with moderation as regards both frequency and manner. He should be on the lookout for mitigating circumstances and let the subject know that he recognizes their presence. He should rarely hop on first offences and be extremely circumspect about correcting in public or in the presence of others. In addition a sister superior especially (men at times need the same caution) must be fair and operate according to her intellect rather than her feelings. Unless she already possesses a sympathetic understanding of human weak-ness, she should attend carefully to the acquisition of a balance that steers a middle course between a laxity that overlooks everything and a rigorism that never winks at a defect. Sense of Accomplishment Closely allied to the sense of personal worth is the sense. of achievement or accgmplishment. The latter tends to in-sure the continuation of the former. If a man never achieves anything, he will soon doubt that he is worth anything. There is a deep metaphysical truth hidden in this psy-chological need just as there was in our previous one: op- eration follows on essence. As a being is, so does it act. A duck cannot act like a squirrel, and a borderline pupil cannot perform like a geni.us. And so if a man does not produce, he is likely to conclude (perhaps with a violation of logic) that he .cannot produce; and if he cannot pro-duce, he must not be much. Though the logic may be par-tially faulty, the damaging effect of repeated failure on one's sense of personal worth is a given fact of life. A saint may come through a series of this-world failures with his psychological equilibrium undisturbed, but that is due to the fact that he knows he is succeeding in the far more im-portant business of attaining God. Even a saint is not ex-empt from the laws of psychological needs and their ful-fillment. The priest's, brother's, or sister's need for some measure of success should be met predominantly in the realization that he is succeeding as long as he is pleasing God. This religious may be a poor preacher or a mediocre teacher; but as long as sincere effort springing from supernatural motivation is a part of the picture, he should experience a sense of accomplishment. He is succeeding. He is worth something. However, we must face the fact that even religious who are supernaturally motivated will be aided in maintain-ing a sense of personal value by at least moderate success in their fields. The responsibility of a religious community in aiding its members to achieve this success devolves chiefly on superiors, major and local. They can discharge this duty in several ways, 1. Major superiors should see to it insofar as such is possible that religious are adequately prepared for the tasks to which they are assigned. This is especially true of the young woman who by nature is usually more appre-hensive about facing a new task than is a man. One does not need a lively imagination to gragp the impact felt in the heart of a young sister entering her first classroom knowing rather little about her subject matter and per-haps less about methods of teadaing and the keeping of discipline. She is going to have a hard time achieving a sense of competency, if she ever does achieve it at all. 2. On differing levels of responsibility both major and minor superiors must take care that they do not assign work too difficult for given subjects. One is asking for trouble if he assigns to the teaching of philosophy a man who is slow in abstract thinking or nursing to a woman who is short on practicality. 3. Again, both major and minor superiors must moder-ate the work load in their communities. A priest, brother, or sister who has too much to do is either going to suffer damage on the physical level by overwork or on the psy-chological level by the conflict resulting from his failure 4- 4- 4- Psychologiral Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 529 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to do it well. Time pressure and overwork are perhaps the single most urgent problem American religious, as a group face today. It has ramifications in more areas of the re-ligious life than is within the scope of this article to detail. Superiors should take it in hand--and resolutely. 4. Any modern business knows that if it is to survive, compete, and succeed, it must be housed in an adequate plant and be equipped with efficient tools of operation. If a religious is to be given a reasonable opportunity to com-pete with his secular counterparts in school or hospital and attain a sense of success in his work, he, too, needs adequate tools. Principals in our schools and administra-tors in our hospitals should see to it that their religious collaborators are given the equipment, books, and sundry aids that will enable them to achieve satisfactorily. 5. We are all aware that it is bad policy for a mother ceaselessly to correct her children from dawn to dusk. Ex-cessively severe discipline makes them nervous and can give rise to resentment feelings and/or an inferiority com-plex. But we may forget that a mature adult is not im-mune from these deleterious effects of an over correcting superior. While a religious superior has an obligation by reason of his office to secure the observance of the commu-nity's constitutions, he need not feel that nothing at all may be overlooked. Nor ought he to emphasize the failures of his subjects. If circumstances suggest that he discuss a notable failure with the religious responsible for it, he should discuss it. Yet at the same time he should praise what can be praised in the situation and he should assidu-ously avoid discouraging a timid person or one already prone to believe himself next to useless. Sister superiors especially need circumspection in this area, since women are probably more inclined than men to discouragement in the face of a difficult task. They need encouragement more than blame when they err. 6. Superiors and subjects alike can promote the sense of achievement in one another by the sincere commenda-tion of success. Most religious, we should hope, are ma-ture enough not to nourish a vanity over the compliments their cbmpanions pay them. If a particular relig!ous be-lies Our hope, we can for the most part skip complimenting him he has already too much of a sense of achievement. Others, however, are aided by a kind word of recognition, and we further their welfare by offering it to them. Such, then, are the first two general psychological needs that.must be met in the religious context: a realization of personal worth and a sense of accomplishment. We shall .pursue in a concluding article a discussion of further gen-eral needs of religious men and women, and we shall add several considerations concerning those of sisters in par-ticular. ROBERT J. ROTH, S.J. Contemplation in Action ¯A Clarification More and.more frequently in recent years the phrases "contemplation in action" and "finding God'in all things" are being used as titles of articles, books, and chapters in books. To a large extent, the treatment of these themes has been confined to technical works of asceticism written for religious, but these topics are beginning to find their way into articles and add(esses dealing with the lay apostolate and are being received with enthusiasm by the layman. This interest on the part 0f the layman has been in-spired in great measure by the growing appreciation of the important role that the laity must play in the apostolic mission of the Church. Laymen are everywhere urged to be mindful of the implications of baptism and confirma-tion whence flow their privilege and obligation to assist the hierarchy in the christianization of the world. Such activity is to be exercised by men and women in a wide variety of situations and in all walks of life. Further, one can easily see that a person engaged in.such activity needs a type of spiritual life which is suited for the work that is to be undertaken. An apostle, and here we mean primari!y the lay apostle, must be a very active per-son if he is to fulfill his commitments to his family and his job and unify these commitments in the fullness of the one Christian, apostolic life. He requires a spiritual life which is geared for action, which permits him to live a deep interior life in the midst of absorbing activity. No better theme could be chosen, it is said, than that expressed by the phrases "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." Moreover, an. appeal is sometimes made to authority in the person of St. Ignatius Loyola who exemplified in his life the ideals contained in these phrases and who incorpo-rated them into a type of spirituality which is known as "Ignatian." One can cite texts from his writings where he ÷ ÷ ÷ Robert J. Roth, s.J., is professor of phi-losophy at Fordham University, Ford-ham Road, New York 58, New York. VOLUME 21, 1962 Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FO~ RELIGIOUS enjoins the shortening of .the time given to formal prayer so 'that the apostle c~n be off and away on some apostolic venture. The ideal Ignatian man is portrayed as one streamlined for action, unhindered by long periods of prayer and liturgical service. Such a man must be able to do without long spiritual exercises and in this he is not taking anything away from God. Rather he must be a "contemplative in action," he must learn to "find God in all things." Naturally this ideal will appeal to the active man who has already experienced the di~culty of joining a dee[, spiritual life with an intensely active one. It is especially appealing, perhaps, to the American, who, not without reason, is called the activist, the practical man, the man of action. That such interest in working out an appropriate spirit-ual life has been awakened in recent years is a clear sign that many people, both cleric and lay, are becoming alive to the sense of what it means to be a" Christian, to be a member of the Mystical Body. It would be unfortunate, however, if one were to stop short at catch phrases and to use them in entirely different ways while remaining under the illusion that he is using them in their original sense. Whatever else was meant by the phrases "contemplation: in action" and "finding God in all things," they never stood for a heedless rush into external activity, a substitu-tion of external work for a deep interior life or of action for prayer. This is not to say, at this point at least, that such substitutions are harmful. That they are harmful will, I hope, become clear as we proceed. But what we wish to emphasize first is that such substitutions radically alter the meaning which these phrases originally had. Therefore, as long as interest has been aroused regard-ing the type of spirituality best ~uited for the lay apostle in modern times, it would be profitable to examine closely our two phrases in their historical context so that we may understand their original meaning.1 At the end of the dis-cussion, some may judge that such a meaning has little validity/today; but at least we shall, have satisfied ourselves that we have examined the matter carefully, and, by way of elimination at least, our future procedure will be a bit clearer. Actually, in the judgment of the present writer, 1 Perhaps the best treatment in English of this subject, a work which was followed closely in the preparation of this paper, is Joseph F. Conwell, s.J., Contemplation in Action: A Study in Ignatian Prayer (Spokane: Gonzaga University, 1957). Other excellent works on the same subject are: Jean Danidlou, "The Ignation Vision of the Universe and of Man," Cross Currents, 7 (1957), pp. 357-66; Alexandre Brou, S.J., lgnatian Methods ol Prayer (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1949); Alexandre Brou, S.J., The Ignatian Way to God (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1952); William J. Young, S.J. (ed.), Finding God in All Things: Es-says in lgnatian Spirituality (Chicago: Regnery, 1958). anyone who understands the meaning of these phrases will see implications which are valid for the contemporary layman. In order to understand the meaning given by Ignatius to the two phrases in question, it would be well to examine the prayer proper to the order which he founded since the two phrases are really expressive of that prayer. In turn, the nature of !gnatian prayer can best be understood by examining the end oi- purpose 9f his order. Our proce-dure, then, will be through an examination of the purpose of the Society of Jesus to come to an understanding of Ignatian prayer and thence to an understanding, of the two phrases under discussion. What, then, was the nature of the new order founded by Ignatius Loyola in the middle of the :sixteenth "century? Its purpose, perhaps broader than any yet envisioned, was the salvation and perfection of self and of neighbor, in-cluding the defense and propagation of the. faith and the spiritual and corporal works of mercy--in brief, any work that had in view "the greater glory Of God and the good of souls." What must be emphasized is that the goal envisioned in-cludes salvation and sanctification of others as well as of self. At first glance, this goal may not seem to be particu-larly unique. The mendicant orders of the late Middle Ages had already, dedicated themselves to apostolic ac-tivity. Moreover, the second great commandment has al-ways been love of neighbor; and every spiritual orienta- .tion, whether it be of a religious order or of an individual Christian, goes out to others as well as to self. Even a con-templative religious or a bed-ridden layman can further the spiritual welfare of his neighbor by example, prayer, and sacrifice. This is at the center of the whole doctrine of the Mystical Body and has been given expression in a beautiful way by Pope Plus XlI in his encyclical: Deep mystery this, subject of inexhaustible meditation: that the salvation of many depends on the prayers and voluntary penances which the members of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ offer for this intention, and On the assistance of pastors of souls and of the faithful, especially of fathers and mothet;s of families, which they must offer to Our divine Savior as though they were His associates3 But what is perhaps unique in the Ignatian goal, giving it a distinctive note, is the importance accorded to the ÷ salvation and sanctification of neighbor. This aspect 'is ÷ not accidental but essential to the Ignatian ideal, and the Ignatian apostle will fail in his vocation if he does not Contemplation deeply concern himself with others.3 In this respect, one in Action ~ The Mystical Body oI Christ (New York: America Press, 1943), p. 21. s There is no attempt here, of course, to minimize the primacy of VOLUME 21, 1962 Robert Roth~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS can look upon the salvation and perfection of self and that of neighbor not as two goals but as two aspects or compo-nents of a single goal. Or to put it in another way, concern for self and concern for neighbor as described above move in a circle (in this case not a "vicious" one!); that is, the more one perfects himself through contact with God, the more he can accomplish for his neighbor. And in.turn the more one labors for others the more he develops virtues within his own soul; for example, charity, zeal, patience, humility, faith, confidence in God, and self-sacrifice. This concept breaks completely with the picture some-times given which compares the perfection within the soul to a reservoir storing up water to be carried off to whatever place may need it without any return to the source. Work for neighbor shou!d not be considered ex-clusively as a drain on one,s supernatural resources; it can also be a means of increasing the perfection within the apostle's soul.4 This orientation will have its effect on one's outlook towards his natural talents, gifts, skills, and abilities. These are given not merely for the furthering of one's own su-pernatural development. They must be brought to their highest potential and used to their fullest capacity in order to advance the we/fare of others. This orientation has an effect too on the direction given to the life which one leads. Whereas members of the older, monastic orders, and to a large extent of the newer mendicant orders, dedicated themselves primarily to formal prayer, long "liturgical services, especially solemn Mass and the chanting of the Divine Office, the members of the order founded by Ignatius sharply curtailed these exercises and gave them-selves wholeheartedly to the active apostolate in any work dictated by time and plaice. We are now in a position to move from the Ignatian goal to Ignatian prayer. First of all, if the former is apos-tolic, so too is the latter. It is designed to help souls. Ft. Joseph Conwell, S.J., states that this affectsthe orientation one's own salvation and sanctification. We need only to recall St. Paul's precaution against becoming a castaway. But the opposite ex-treme should also be avoided where, out of selfishness or excessive caution and fear or even sloth,.one would ignore the salvation and sanctification of others. In this regard, we would raise the question as to whether an individual could s:ive his own soul by deliberately excluding the salvation of neighbor, or whether he could reach the full perfection of the Christian life without being deeply concerned with the spiritual welfare of neighbor by prayer, example, sacrifice, and, when possible, good works. ~ Even this picture should not be exaggerated, for again we must recall St. Paul's warning and also his remedy against exhaustion of spirit which consists in refreshing the soul from day to day (9 Cor 5:16). The main point made here, however, is that work for one's neighbor should not be considered a mere waste as far as one's per-sonal spiritual development is concerned. of prayer rather than its content. Prayer should arouse a great thirst to help souls; otherwise the devotion found in in prayer, even though good in itself, would be danger-ous. 5 When the Ignatian apostle prays, he is no longer praying as an individual. He prays as one intimately in-volved in the apostolic mission of the Church. Conse-quently his prayer is to be a help for the souls of others as well as for his.own soul, and his prayer is to be the in-gpiration of apostolic activity. Secondly, at times the individual will have to curtail the periods devoted to formal prayer in order to engage in the apostolate. This helps us to understand the some-times strong statements of St. Ignatius arid of Father Jer-ome Nadal who officially interpreted find promulgated the Constitutions of the newly-fo~'med order, against cer-tain prominent members of the order. These latter had a tendency to look upon prayer as an end rather than as a means and to place perfection in the passing of long hours inprayer and penance.~ It was necessary to censure protracted recollection and solitude, and by these were meant such as would withdraw one from the task of help-ing his neighbor. There will be times when the apostle must forego.the consolation and quiet of formal prayer in favor of the active apostolate. In doing this he should .not be disturbed but should be assured that he is acting according to his vocation. But one must point out with equal emphasis that the apostle cannot entirely forego recollection and solitude. This balance, I think, is an answer to those who would view the Ignatian ideal as an excuse for feverish activity without the quiet of formal prayer and recollection. As we shall see, the emphasis on shortening formal prayer would seem to be relative; relative, that is, to the amount prac-ticed by other orders while the amount that is left is con-siderable. Let us pursue the matter a bit further. So far we have seen that the Ignatian goal is apostolic, that it comprises the he!p of self and of neighbor, that these two cannot be attained in separation, ~hat consequently Ignatian prayer is apostolic, aimed at helping others as well. We are now able to understand that which was unique in Ignatian prayer, especially in its relation to activity. There is one way of explaining this relationship which, while good and salutary, isnot precisely Ignatian. Accord- ~ Conwell, op. cir., pp. 69-70. 0 In taking their stand; neither St. Ignatius nor Father Nadal had any intention of passing judgment on the superiority of one type of religious order over another. It was a question of clarifying the goal and hence the spirituality proper to the Society of Jesus. This task took some time since.in important ways the orientation of the new order differed from that of others existing at the time. See Brou, The Ignatian Way to God, Chapter 7 and passim. + + + Contemplation in Action VOLUME 211 1962 535 4. 4. 4. ing to this view, one would look upon prayer and activity as two distinct steps. Thus one would engage in formal prayer in order to receive grace, motivation, and inspira-tion for apostolic activity. He then turns from prayer to activity and in the course of that activity prayer as such ceases. In fact, activity may be looked upon as an obstacle to prayer, something to be taken up and completed after which one returns to prayer. Ignatius wanted more than this. He wanted to bridge the gap, to eliminate the line, as it were, between prayer and activity. There are not two stages but only one; that is, continued prayer and contemplation even in the midst of action. In this sense, action literally becomes prayer. Ft. Conwell expresses it as follows: It is not enough, therefore, that prayer incline to the apos-tolate; it should carry over to the work itself. There can be no question of a life of prayer and a life of action with a huge gulf in between. Prayer should not only incline to the apostolate but bridge the gap between them, even more, close the .gap, fill the gap, so that no gap exists between prayer and actxon . Not only does prayer lead to action, not only does it accompany a man as he crosses the threshold of the apostolate, but it pene-trates the entire action. Not only is there a connection between prayer and action, but a vital union of the two, the same spirit vivifying both. Action has become a prolongation of prayer, or to put it another way, prayer is prolonged by action itself? We can see, then, that the purpose of both prayer and apostolic activity are the same; namely, union with God. This means first of all union of intellect where under the divine light we share His vision of the universe. In some dim but definite way we have in the very course of our activity an increasing awareness of the divine mission of salvation and sanctification carried on by the Mystical Body in the people with whom we come in contact and in the circumstances and events in which we find our-selves. All things great and small--the whole created uni-verse in its natural and supernatural dimensions, the events of i~dividual~ and of nations, the growth of the Church, ordinary, everyday events--all become meaning-ful as we see in them the unfolding of the divine plan. Union with God in prayer and activity means also a conscious union of the will with God, especially in charity. It is charity which brings the individual to prayer and action and it is charity which consciously animates his actions, giving them meaning, direction, and unction. In being united more fully to God by charity, the soul also comes to love more fully the divine plan of salvation and all things in Him; love moves out also to one's neighbor, and this in turn inspires him to spend himself the more in works of zeal for the salvation and sanctification of the world. ~ Conwell, op. cit., pp. 72-73. All this applies not only to works which are in them-selves apostolic, for example, the preaching of the word of God or the dispensing of the sacraments, nor does it apply only to works upon which one has just meditated and to which he goes under the proximate impetus of that prayer. It applies also to works upon whi~:h he'has not specifically meditated and to works, events, and circum-stances which are not directly apostolic; for example, the teaching of mundane subjects and even the directing Of games for active youngsters. Hence the apostle contem-plates and finds God in the action, any action, which he is performing and performs the action precisely because in it he does find God. Viewed from this aspect, activity need no longer be looked upon as an obstacle to prayer. "The revolution accomplished by St. Ignatius showed that that which ap-peared to be an obstacle could become a means.''s Ac-tivity now joins hands with prayer in enabling the soul to attain union with God, to "find God in all things," in action as well as in prayer. It is from this viewpoint, too, that St. Ignatius himself along with the apostle whom he attempts to fashion is called a "contemplative likewise in action," and the prayer that he practices is termed "con-templation in action." Moreover prayer of this kind does not withdraw a per-son from action nor does it distract the active person from being absorbed in the matter at hand. It enables him to go deeper into i.t, to immerse himself in it precisely be-cause in doing so his intellect understands deeper dimen-sions of the divine plan and his will is consumed with greater love for God and for all His creatures. What has been said should be enough to help us catch a brief glimpse of the profound meaning behind the Ig-natian phrases, "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." They express the spiritual orientation achieved by Ignatius himself during his own lifetime of continued growth in holiness and union with God. They express also the ideal which he proposed for the members of his own order. We must, of course, recognize that it is an ideal which in its fullness will be achieved but rarely by his followers; but it is nonetheless one which can be striven for and attained in increasing perfection according to God's grace and one's cooperation with grace. We may now ask about the training which Ignatius prescribed for the members of his order so as to bring them to such a high ideal. First of all, it cannot be the result merely of daily morning prayer, as though the thoughts and affections that unite one to God in the morning medi-tation carry through the day so that we find God in every- Jean Dani~lou, op. cit., p. 364. 4. 4. 4. Contemplation in dction VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU~ 538 thing. "This is an oversimplification. For there is besides a deeper continuity with a richer and broader and deeper background of prayer than the morning meditation."" There are presupposed the various trials of a two year novitiate with a retreat of thirty days in which the indi-vidual experiences the full Spiritual Exercises or Ignatian retreat. It is the Spiritual Exercises which lay a foundation for the development of a life in God. They develop a deep union of the soul with God by bringing about the illumi-nation of intellect and impulsion of will so important for the attainment of the ideal of Ignatian prayer. In addi-tion, it is presupposed that the individual will continue a program of spiritual practices which include daily Mass, mental prayer, and two examinations of conscience, and throughout the year an annual retreat of eight days and the other ascetical practices necessary for growth in holi-ness. From all this it is clear how superficial is the inter-pretation which sees in the notion of contemplation in action an invitation to set aside any concept of a deep spiritual life so as to rush off into activity. In the course of our discussion, we have insisted on the original meaning of th~ two phrases in question and on the type of spiritual program needed to reach the ideal contained in these phrases. It would be inaccurate, not to say disastrous, to interpret this as an attempt to belittle or hinder the progress made in recent years in helping the Christian to find God more easily in his daily life and to make his prayer life more consciously the inspiration of his apostolic activity. Beyond this there is more than mere pedantry at stake. At its worst, a lack of precision in this regard can lead to the .tendency to do away with a deep spiritual life in favor of activity. "At last we have a 'spir-ituality of action' which enables us to maintain a program of feverish activity without too much worry about a life of prayerI" That such an attitude is naive in the extreme and for-tunately is encountered only occasionally may well be true. Yet one has the feeling that even more careful treat-ments of the question miss the heart of the problem. For if the original meaning.is maintained, a high ideal is pro-posed without a full appreciation of what is required to reach the goal. This can lead to discouragement on the part of those who strive for it and fail because they are ill-prepared. And if the original meaning is diluted, we lose contact with the initial insights of Ignatius'as well as the high ideal proposed by him. Consequently there is also lost the possibility that some lay people today may aspire to this ideal and find in it a means of reaching sanctity in their lay lives. ' Conwell, op. cit., p. 85. We must be aware, of course, that if the layman is to strive for sanctity it cannot be a question of living the life of a religious in the world. And here we have in mind the layman who marries, raises a family, holds down a job, and so forth. This brings up the problem, one which we shall not even attempt to ~tnsw~r here, Of just how such-a person can attain sanctity through an intensely apostolic life. At present we merely suggest that the answer would seem tolie in the direction of discovering what lay spirit-uality really is rather than in watering down the spirit-uality of religious for the layman. This would apply to the lgnatian ideal as well as to any other. We suggest further that there are many aspects of the Ignatian ideal which will provide valuable insights for working out a solution to the problem. This suggestion be-comes especially meaningful when we recall the back-ground of the Spiritual Exercises in which are found the principles of "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." The Spiritual Exercises were primarily in-tended neither for Jesuits nor for prospective candidates to the Soicety of Jesus. Anyone can make them. And though Ignatius gave prudent suggestions as to how much of.the Exercises should be given, depending on the health, intelligence, spiritual progress, and occupation of the ex-ercitant, it is clear that he envisioned the possibility of giving to the layman, for the perfection of his life in the lay state, the full Exercises, containing as they do all that we have said about the phrase~ under discussion.1° In any case, our discussion of Ignatian prayer as applied to members of a p9rticular religious order should point up the importance of careful training for the attainment of the ideal proposed. St. Ignatius fully realized that he was aiming high, and he did not leave anything to chance. Hence, whatever form the phrases "contemplation in ac-tion" and "finding God in all things" may take for the layman, if a high ideal is to be maintained there is de-manded a carefully developed spiritual program. That some program is necessary is clear to anyone who takes seriously the statements of recent sovereign pontiffs regarding the deep spiritt~al life needed by those who en-gage in the lay apostolate and Catholic Action. This is true even if we limit ourselves to an ideal not quite as de-manding as the one proposed. So much more true is it for the one under discussion. St. Ignatius, in drawing up the plans for his order, was facing a concrete situation with a concrete spirituality. One could ask whether one man can do the same today for the layman in terms of his concrete situation. It would The Spiritual Exercises of St, Ignatius, trans. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Westminster: Newman, 1957), "Introductory Observations," pp. 7-9. 4- 4- 4. Contemplation in Action VOLUME 21, 1962 539 take a very gifted and saintly man. :Perhaps we lesser mor-tals will have to recognize our limitations and Open our minds to the possibility that the task can be done by a team of men, both cleric and lay, pooling their resources to work out-under God's inspiration a spiritual life which will enable the layman truly to be a "contemplative in action," to "find God in all things." + + + Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 THOMAS RADLOFF, S.J. Interpersonal Relationships Christlikeness is the goal of Christian asceticism. The purpose of novitiate and seminary training is essentially a matter of taking the given material of youth--as it is-- and orientating it to a personal commitment to Christ. The basic structure of this asceticism is an interpersonal relationship geared to the Pauline "I live now, not I, but Christ Jesus." Within the structure ~of this relationship, grace building on nature is the dynamic force achieving growth in the deiform life of Christlikeness.1 Neither gra~e nor nature exist in a vacuum; rather, God gives individualized graces that are tailored to the needs of individualized human nature. Youths come to novi-tiates and seminaries already conditioned by environment. The uniqueness of this youth and the uniqueness of his vocational graces must be taken into account if he is to be effectively saturated with the highest spirituality summed up in the epitome of Christlikeness: to love God and to love others.~ " The following pages offer some few, limited reflections on the two great commandments and. the relation of these two commandments to the already conditioned human nature they are meant to permeate. 1 The concept of the life of grace as an interpersonal relationship is not new, but it is a notion that is rece
Issue 10.3 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; Blesssed Claude Colombiere and Devotion !:he Sacre bleart: C. A. Herbst, S.d. 44~rHIS is he whom. I send thee." Margaret Mary heard these | words interiorly as she sat listening to the first instruction Father Claude de la Colombi~re gave the Visitandine com-munity at Paray-le-Monial towards the end of February, 1675. Here was the fulfillment of a promise. Our Lord had appeared many times, asking her to promote devotion to His Sacred Heart. Over-whelmed at the thought, "My sovereign Master had promised me shortly after I had consecrated myself to Him that He would send: me one of His servants, to whom He wished me to make known'. according to the knowledge He would give me thereof, all the treas-ures and secrets of His Sacred Heart which He had confided to.me. H~ added that He sent him to reassure me with regard to my interior way, and that He would impart to him signal graces from His Sacred Heart, showering them abundantly over our interviews." (Autobiography of St. Margaret Mary, .Visitation Library, 1930. No. 80.) That the Sacred Heart, the heart of Margaret Mary, and the heart of the young Jesuit should be united in love, Our Lord. showed the Saint in a vision. "As I went up to receive Him in Holy Com-munion, He showed His Sacred Heart as a burning furnace, and two 6ther hearts were on the point of uniting themselves to It, and of being absorbed therein. At the same time He said to me: 'It is thus My pure love unites these three hearts for ever.' He afterwards gave me to understand that this union was all for the glory of Hi,s Sacred Heart, the"treasures of Which He wished me to reveal to him that he might spread them abroad, and make known to others their value and utility. To this end He wished we should be brother and sister, sharing equally these spiritual treasures." (Ibid., No. 82.) The Extraordinary Confessor "'So it was according to a very special providence of God that Father Colombi~re was appointed superior of the small Jesuit com-munity in Paray ~arly in 1675. Our Lord wanted him to bethe sympathetic, enlightened, and fearless director of Margaret Mary and 1'13 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious the first public promoter of devotion to His Sacred Heart. Named extraordinary confessor to the convent, he came on the Lenten Ember Days towards the beginn{ng of March, .1675. Margaret Mary herself relatds what took place on that occasion. "Although .we had never either seen or spoken with each other, the Reverend Father kept me a very long time and spoke with me as though he understood what was passing within me. But I would not in any way ope, n my heart to him just then, and, seeing that I wished to withdraw for fear of. inconveniencing the community, he asked me if I would allow him to come and speak with me again in tl~is same place~ But in my natural timidity which shrank from all such communications, I re- .plied that, not being~ at my own disposal, I would dO whatever obedience ordered me. I'then withdrew having remained with him about an hour and a half." (Ibid., No. 80.) She was still timid, uncertain, afraid. But shortly after, her superior, M~re de Saumaise, "having had him return, ordered our virtuous sister to talk to him, in order to reassure herself as to what was taking place in her" (Gauthey, Vie et Oeuores, ~i, 133). Mar-garet Mary continues: "Before long he again returned, and although I kn~w it to be the Will of God that I should speak with him,, I nevertheless felt an extreme repugnance to be oblig(d.to do so. I'told him so at once. He replied that"he was very pleased to have given me an opportunity of making a sacrifice to God. Then, without trouble~or method, I opened my heart and made known to him my inmost soul, both the good and bad; ,whereupon he greatly consoled me, ~issuring me that there was nothing to fear in, the guidafice~of that Spirit, since It did not withdraw me from obedience; that I ought to follow Its movements, abandoning to It my whole being, sacrificing arid :imhaol~i~ myself according to Its good pleasure . Having mentioned some of the more special favors and .expressions of love which I received from this Beloved of my soul, arid which I refrain from describing here, he said that ~n all ~his, I had great cause to humble .myself and to admire the mercy of God in my regard." (Autobio~rapby~ No. 81.) First Dis'closure This was the first time she had ever told anyone of the revela-tions of the Sacred Heart to her. "I assure you," .she wrote later, "that it was to this good Father that I made the first disclosure. My sovereigri Master ordered m~ to do so. He showered on him on this 114 ' Mag, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE occasion more graces than He had ever given him before." (Vie et Oeuvres, II, 543.) ~ But humiliations came, too. "The Reverend Father himself had much to suffer on my account. For it was said that I wanted to deceive him and mislead him by my illusions, as I had done others. He was, however, in no way troubled by what was said. but con-tinued none the less to help me, not Only during the short time he remained in this town, but always. Many a time I have been sur-prised that he did not abandon me as others had done, for the way in which I acted towards him v~ould have repulsed any other." (Autobiography, No. 81.) Here indeed was put to the test the promise ~he had made to God of never doing or omitting through human respect anything that he thought to be' for the glory of God. Behold This Heart In June, 1675. during the octave of Corpt~s Christi, Our Lord made the last great revelation of His Sacred Heart to Margaret Mary. "Behold this Heart, Which has loved men so much. that It has spared nothing, even to exhhusting and consuming Itself, in 6rder to testify to ~hem Its love: and in return I receive from the greater ~number nothing but i.ngrati~ude by reason of their irreverence and sacrileges, and by the coldness and contempt which they show Me in this Sacrament of Love. But yghat I feel-the mo~t keenly is that it is hearts which are consecrated to Me that treat Me thus. Therefore, I ask of thee that the Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christi be set apart for a special Feast to honour My Heart, by communikating on that day and making reparation to It by a solemn act, in order to make amends for the indignities which It has received during thb tim~, It has been e~posed on the altars. I promise thee that My Heart shall expand Itself to shed in abundance the influence of Its divine love upon those who Shall thus honour It, and cause It to be honoured." (Autobiography, No. 92.) Here was a clear statement, a bitter complaint, a definite and manifold request,-and a rich promise., And yet, what could a poor timid young nun in the cloister do about it? "'And when I replied that I knew not bow to accomplish what He bad so long desired of me, He told me to address, myself to His servant, .Wh, om He had sent me for the accomplishment of this design. Having done this, he (Father de la Colombi~re)~ ordered me to commit to writing all that I had .made known to him concerning "the Sacred Heart of Jesus, as well as several other thing,s.~whicb referred to It for the greater glory C. A. HERBST Review for Religious of God. This Was a cause of great ~omfor~ to me, as this holy man not only taught me how to correspond to His designs, but also reas-sured me in the great fear I had of being deceived which was a con-stant trouble to me."' (Ibid., No. 92.) The Guide for Falterin~l Steps So Father Colombi~re was ~be answer. He would guide her fab tering steps.and encourage her. T, he Life by' her contemporaries ex-pands the" narrative. "Address yourself to My servant, Father de la Colombi~re, Jesuit, and tell him for Me that he should do all in his power to establish this devotion and give this pleasure to My divine Heart. Let him not be discouraged by the difficulties he will en-counter, for they will not be wanting. But he should know that he is all-powerful who, putting off confidence in self, trusts i,mplicitly in Me." (Vie et Oeuvres, I, 138, 13.9.) It takes great courage and great spiritual insight to guide a mystic soul, especially when a riew devotion is to be introduced into the world through this soul. But "Father de la Colombi~re was a man of fine discernment. 'He was riot a man to g!ve credence to anything easily. But he had too striking proofs of the solid virtue of the per-son who was speaking to him to have the slightest fear of delusion in this matter. He accordingly took' up at once the ministry whikh God had just committed to him. In order to acquit himself of it effectively and perfectly, be decided to begin with himself. He ac-cordingly consecrated himself (together with Margaret Mary and only~ a few days aft+r the great apparition) completely to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. He offered It everything in himself he thought capable of honoring an'd pleasing It. The extraordinary graces Which he received from this practice soon confirmed him in the esteem which he already bad of tbeimp6rtance and solidity of this devotion." (Ibid.) These Three Hearts Thus it was that "My pure love t~nites these three hearts for ever." M~rgaret Mary and Father Colombi~re bad truly become "brother and sister, sharing equally these spiritual treasures." But he must spread tl~e fire, too, as much as his little world and the 'short time allowed. "Though. he remained but a short time in the town, he never ceased inculcating this devotion in all his spiritual daugh-ters. He had them receive holy Communion in honor of the Sacred Heart on the Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christ." (Ibid., 116 Ma~l, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE 138, 139.) His apostola~te would become more extensive in another land. Late in the summer of 1676 Father Colombi~re was sent by his sunperiors to England to be confessor to th.e eighteen-year-old Mary of Modena, Duchess of York. He 'left Paray towards the latter part of September. Naturally, Margaret Mary.could not but have a sense of foreboding and feel the loss-of him very much, but Christ's "my grace is sufficient for thee" of another day brought her the same courage and strength it did St. Paul. "I received this blow with perfe.ct submission-to the Will of God, Who had allowed him to be of such use to me during the short time he had been here. When I ventured afterwards to reflect upon my loss, my Divine Master forth-with reproved me, saying: 'What! am I not sufficient for thee, I Who am thy beginning ~and thy last end?' This sufficed to make me abandon all to Him, for I was convined that He would not fail to provide me with'everything that was necessary." (Autobiographg, No. 93.) A Threefold Warning Before leaving Paray, a note from her was handed Father Co-" lombi~re. It contained a three-fold warning from heaven for him who was truly going to be a sheep among wolves. "1. Father de la Colombi~re's talent is to lead souls to God; therefore the devils-will do all in their power against him. He will meet with trouble,~ even from persons consecrated to God, who will not approve of what he says in his sermons t"o convert them; but in these crosses the goodness of God will be his support, so .long as he continu,es to trust in Him. 2. He must have a compassionate gentleness for si~nners, and only use severe measures when especially inspired by God to do so. 3. Let him be particularly careful not to separate good,from its source. ~This sentence is shortl but contains much which God will enable him to understand according to the diligence with 'which he applies himself to find its meaning." (Sister Mary Philip,,A Jesuit at the English Court, 115.) J , He accepted this note a~ a message from heaven. Although contained almost as many mysteries as it did words," he would be shown in his London retreat during the second half of January, 1677, its immediate and immensely~practical and detailed usefulness. "Truly," he ~wrote February 7, 1677, "Our Lord left nothing more to be said. There was (in that note) saving advic@ against all the evils that could befall me" (Vie et Oeuvres, I, 142). "These were " 1 17 C. A. HERBSr Review ior Religious counsels to fit p~sent circumstances and°'remedies against thoughts and plans that were troubling me and that were Very much opposed to those of God" (Ibid.). And later: "That helped very much to steady me. For I was tempted to abandon everything for fear of an outburst which might give scandal and wound charity" (Ibid.; 143). "The'note from Sister Alacoque strengthens me very much and gives me reassurance in a thousand doubts which come to me every~day" (Ibid., 144). It is x;ery clear that a few enlightened,words from Margaret Mary were helping her director to make his soul ready to be a great apostle of the Sacred Heart. Colorobi~re's Consecration By the time his retreat of 1677 ended, Father Colombibre was prepared to give himself over' fully and solemnly to the Sacred Heart. Six months before at Paray he had consecrated himself in a simple way to that Heart.' Since then, much light and. many graces had come to him. Under the influence of these he had slowly and care-fully, determined that, from now,on~ his life would be c6mplet'ely "dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. "This offering is made' in order to honour that Divine Heart, 'the seat of all virtues, the source¯ ¯ of all blessings, and the refuge of all holy souls . In reparation 'f~r so many outrages and for such cruel ingratitude, most adorable and amiable Heart of Jesus, and to avoid as far as I can such a mis-fortune, I offer .to Thee my heart, with all its movements. I give myself entirely to Thee, and henceforth I protest most sincerely that I desire to forget myself and all that. relates to me, in order to remove any obstacle which might impede an entrance into this Divine Heart, which Thou hast the goodness to open to me, and into which I hope: to enter, to live. and die there with Thy most faithful servants, penetrated and inflamed with Thy~love. I offer to this H~art all the 'merit and all the satisfaction of all the Masses, pkayers, acts of mortification, religious practices, acts of zeal, of humility, of obedience, and of all the other virtues which I shall practise until the. last moment of my life. I do so not only to honour the Heart'of Jesus and its admirable dispositions, but I also humbly beg Him to accept the entire oblation which I make to Him, to dispose of it ,in the manner which shall please Him, and in favour of whom pleases . " (A Jesuit of the E.nglish Court; 125, 1"26.) His offering and his retreat end with a prayer to the Sacred Heart. "Sacred Heart of Jesus, teach me perfect forgetfulness of self, since 118 M a~ , 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE , this is~the only way one can enter into Thee. Since everyth!ng.I shall do in the future will be Thine. grant that I may do nothing unworthy of Thee. Teach me what I'must do to obtain pule love for Thee. that pure love for which Thou ha~t inspired the desire in me. I feel within me a great desire of pleasing Thee and an even greater powerlessness of doing so without very special light and help. These I can obtain only from Thee. Do all Thy will in me. 0 Lord. I well know that I oppose,It, but I'earnestl~ desire not to do so. "Thou must do everything, divine Heart of Jesus. and oTbou alone shalt have all the glory of my sanctification if I-become holy. That appears to me as clear as day. All this will. bring gr~at glory to Thee, and it is for that alone that I desire to be perfect.Amen." (A. Haman, Histoire de la D~votion au Sacr~ Coeur, III. 296) The apostle was now immolated to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus. The apostle at once set to work. He wrote from London soon after: "I knew that God wanted me to serve Him by obtaining the accomplisbment of His designs with regard to the devotion which He has revealed to a person He communicates with very intimately. For this it has pleased Him to make use of my weakness. I have alreadY, inspired many people in England with it. I have also written of it to France and asked one of my friends to spread it in the place where he is. This devotion will be very useful there, and the great number of chosen souls in this community leads me to think that its practke in that fervent house will be very pleasing to God." (Georges Guit-ton, Le Bienbeureux Claude La Co[ombi~re, 444.) First Sermon on Sacred Heart March 24, 1677, the third Wednesday of. Lent and th%~ve, of the feast of the Annunciation, Father Colombi~re thought the hour bad come for him to speak publicly of devotion to the Sacre, d Heart, In his sermon, On .the Patience of Jesus'Suffering, he invited his hearers in St. James palace: "Let.us enter into the Heart of the Son of God and see what are Its sentiments with regard to His enemies. .They are sentiments of indescribable sweetness. Note their various degrees and effects. All He suffers from His persecutors does not pre-vent Him from excusing them. He knows they are acting through ignorance, and no matter how great .their envy, human respect, self interest, barred, pride, injustice, and the intensity of their wrath, this Heart, full of goodness, is eager rather to excuse and diminish the 'gravity oftheir sin than to make them more guilty . .~. Jesus.not 119 C. A. HERBST Reuieto for Religious only excuses His executioners. He is moved with deep compassion for them. He bewails their blindness and the evils they are drawing on themselves. - He says in His Hearti 'If thou didst but. know in this thy day the things that are to thy peace.' He knows that the evils that befall Him are scarcely evils'at all compared with theirs. 'Weep not over Me ' Jesus is moved with love for His enemies. , He feels a real and efficacious compassion for them. He prays for them, He suffers for them, He suffers for them with tenderness. He wishes to save them, and He does so. His prayer, is not in vain. These same souls are the ones converted by the sermon of St. Peter . Let the Heart of Jesus be our teacher, our school. Let us make our abode in this Heart during this Lent. Let us study Its every movement and endeavor to conform ours to them. Yes, divine Jesus, i want to live in this Heart. I want to pour all my bitterness into It. TlSere it will be consumed. I do not fear that impatience will attack me in this place Of refuge. There in perfect security I shall exercise myself in.silence, in resignation to the divine will, in invin-cible constancy. Every day I shall offer prayers of thanksgiving for the crosses Thou sendest me and ask Thee to give grace to those who persecute me . " (Oeuvres du R. P. Claude de la Cotombi~re, VI, '249-251.) ~ This was the first sermon ever preached on devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in its modern form. It is remarkable how it re-echoes the virtues expressly mentioned by Our Lord as characteristic of His Heart the one and only time He expressly mentions that Heart in the gospels: "Learn of me, because I am meek and humble of heart" (Matt. I 1:29). Around this same theme and these same sweet and consolii~g words ~3f Christ the Church has built one of h~r most. poPular and' practical p~rayers to th,e SaCred Heart: "Jesus, meek and humble of Heart, make my heart like unto Thine." English Queen's Request 4. Father Colombi~re remained two years in London. There he continued, in public and in private, to promote devotion to the Sacred Heart. The prime object of his zeal naturally would be his spiritual child, Mary, Duchess of York, later (1.685-1688) Queen ¯ of England as wife of James II. She was the first royal conquest for the devotion. Exiled after 1688 and living in France, ~he was the first royal personage to petition the Holy Father for the establish-ment of a solemn feast in honor of the Sacred Heart.of Jesus, for 1~20 May, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE which Our Lord Himself had:asked. A feast'in honor of the Sacred Heart was not granted because of the many difficulties of the times, but on March 30, 1697 "the Sacred Congregation of Rites, in response to the~urgent request of Her Most Serene Maiesty, Mary, Queen of England, has graciously grar~ted the Nuns of the ~Visitation of the Most Blessed ,Virgin of St. Francis de Sales that in their churches each. year on the Friday following the octave of Corpus Christi not only priests attached to their churches but others also coming there on this day may celebrate the Mass of the Five Wounds of Jesus Christ." His Holiness, Innocent XII, approved.this decree April 3, 1697. ( Histoire de la D~votion art Sacr~ Coeur, III, 375.) Not until 1765 was a Mass of the Sacred Heart approved. In 1856 it was extended to'the whole Church and in 1929 raised to the rank - of a feast of the first class. Accused in England of taking part in a conspiracy, the queen's chaplain was arrested and imprisoned about the middle of November, 1678, and "exiled" to France. Ill and very weak from tuberculosis and imprisonment he passed through FranCe in slow stages, arriving in Dijon about the end of January. There his old friend from Paray, M~re de Saumaise, was mistress of the Visitandine novices. He bad to address them, of course. One of them, Sister Jeanne- Madeleine Joly, wbuld one day compose the first collection of prac-tices of piety in honor of the Sacred Heart and make one .of the first images of It. He told ~this Sister: "Anyone striving to spread this devotion will do a wonderful work for the glory of God." Sojourn at Paray Early in January, 1679, he had order0d Margaret Mary by letter to make to the Sacred Heart "a testament or donation without re-serve, in writing, of all that she could do or suffer, of all the prayers and spiritual goods anyone should offer for her during her life and after her ,death" (Vie et Oettt;res, I, 172). Father Colombi~re himsclf was to sign this if her superior refused. Towards the end Of Febru-ary he appeared in Paray in person, and spent ten' happy and fruit-ful days there, reassuring Margaret Mary and her new superior, M~re Greyfi~, with regard to the revelations of the Sac~ed Heart. When he arrived at Lyons March 23, he wrote "Our Lord taught me some days ago to make Him a sacrifice even greater still: to be de-termined to do nothing at all, if that be His will." While. taking his native air in the country at Saint-Symphorien ,121 C;. A. HERBST Review/:or Religious he wrote, as June 1, I679, feast of ~Corpus Christi, approached, to the superioress of the Visitation at.CharoHes: "I am writing you today only to urge you to have your whole commuhity~ make a special Communion, the day after the octave of Corpus Christi, not for my intention, but to make reparation, as far as lies in your power, for all the irreverences committed a.gainst Jesus Christ d_uring the whole octave He is exposed on our altars throughout the Chris-tian world. I assure you that this manifestation of love will draw down great blessings upon you. I advise you to continue this prac-tice all your life." (Le Bienheureux Claude La Colombi&e. 624.) He had hardly returned to Lyons at the end of May when he wrote his sister Elizabeth: "This practice was recommended to me by a persom of extraordinary piety. She assured me that all,those who ,gave Our Lord this mark of love would draw great profit" from it, Try gently to draw your friends to do the same thing. I'hope more communities will begin this devotion this year and continue it . always." (Ibid.) 'His Stairi~ual Son, Father Galliffet Somewhat recovered," Father Colombi~re was made spiritual father to some sixteen young Jesuits studying at Lyons during the two scholastic years 1679-1681. In one of these, Joseph de Galliffet. he,was to llve again. This man's great spiritul influence, knowledge of tbeolbgy, and gentle persevering way in spreading devotion to the Sacred Heart were to overcome many an obstacle put in its way. Half a century later, in the preface to his book, The Excellence of the Devotion to the Adorable Heart of Jesus Christ, he wrote: "In 1680, on leaving the noviciate, I had the good fortune of coming under the spiritual direction of Reverend Father Claude la Colombi~re, the director God had given Mother Margaret, then still living. It is from this servant of God that 'I received my first instructions on the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ. I began then to appre-ciate and love it." F~ther Galliffet's book, still a classic on dev, otion to the Sacred Heart, is the voice of Father Colombi~re coming down to us through the years. He was removed from Lyons, very ill and weak, to Pa.ray in August, 1681. Naturally, he communicated with Margaret Mary. About November first.he writes: "Our Lord told her that, if I were well, I would glorify Him by my zeal, but that now, being ill, He is glorifying Himself in me." But Paray was no place for the sick 122 May, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE man either, so his brother sent a corn, fortable carriage to remove him to Vienne. It was January 29, the feast of St. Francis de Sales, a day dear to both himself and Sister Margaret. A note came from her: he should not leave Paray if he could remain without being dis-obedient. In writing he asked why: in writing he received an an answer. He stayed. Of what happened the next ten days we know nothing. Febru-ary 15, 1682,'at seven o'clock in the evening, he died of a violent hemorrhage. He was forty-two years of age, had been a Jesuit twenty-two years. At five o'clock next. morning a friend carried the news of his death to Margaret Mary. "Pray for him, and get Others to pray for him," she said. But at ten~o'clock the sarrie morning she sent a note: "Weep no longer. Pray to him. Fear nothing. He is more powerful to help you now than ~ver." Sister Margaret begged her friend to do all in her power to get back the last note she had sent Father Colombi~re. But the Jesuit :superior absolutely refused to surrender it, saying he had rather hand over all the archives of the house. To explain, he read it to her. "He has told me that it is here He wishes the sacrifice of your life," it said (Vie et Oeuores, I, 499). The Sacked Heart wanted His "faithful servant and p,erfect friend" tomremain always in Paray. The Retreat Brings Deootion to the Public The Retreat Father Colombi~re made in London in 1677 was published two years after his death. It became at once the great in-strument for promoting the devotion to the Sacred Heart, as it con-tained the great revelation "Behold this Heart . " and his act of consecration and prayer to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. His sanctity threw a halo around the devotion Sister ,Margaret"was trying to propagate, and his words that the revelatiofl was made "to a person with whom He communicates very intimately" pointed clearly to her. To her great humiliation, the Retreat was read in the dining room at Paray, but that removed prejudice against the devotion there. She concealed herself behind the Retreat. "We found this devotion in the book of the retreat of ReverendFather Colombi~re." she.wrote, "whom everyone venerates as a saint. I do not know whether 'you know him, or if you have the book of which I am speaking. But it would give me great pleasure to send it to you." (Vie et Oeuores, IE 324, 325.) "You would scarcely believe the good effects It (th( Sacred Heart) produces in 'souls who have the good fortune to know of It through this holy man who himself was 123 C. A. HER~3ST Review for Religious altogether devoted to It and lived only to make It loved,, honored, and glorified" (1bid., 328). Devotion to the Sacred Heart "is spreading everywhere through the medium of the Retreat of Rev-erefid Father. Colombi~re (Ibid., 476). Many decades later Father de Galliffet would say of the Retreat: "It was the first means Our Lord used to make public both the .revelation and the devotion to His Sacred Heart." Colombi~re's Intercession in Heathen Father Colombi~re continues ih heaven the mission begun here on earth of propagating devotion to the Sacred Heart~ Consoling his old friend and hers in difficulties she met with in spreading the devotion, Mother Margaret wrote Mother de Saumaise: "It ought to be a great consolation to you to have so close a union with the good Father' de la Colombi~re. For by his intercession in heaven he is re-sponsible for what is being done here on earth for the glory of the Sacred Heart. Bear up courageously, therefore, under all these little contradictions." (Ibid., II., 427.) "We must address,ourselves to His faithful friend, the good Father de la Colombi~re, to whom he has given great power and to whom, so to speak, He has:handed over whatever has to do with this devotion. I assure you in confidence that-I have received great help from him, even more than when he was here on earth. For, if I am not dece!ving myself, this devotion to the Sacred Heart has made him very powerful in heaven, 9nd has raised him higher in glory than everything else he did during his whole life." (Ibid., 551.) The Society of Jesus, Father Colombi~re's order, was to have a special place in promoting devotion to the Sacred Heart. In a vision of July 2, 1688 Margaret Mary saw the Sacred Heart, the Virgin Mother, St. Francis de Sales, the Daughters of the Visitation, and Father Colombi~re. After confiding to the care of the Daughters of' Holy Mary the precious treasure of the Sacred Heart, "turning to the good Father de la Colombi~re, this mother of goodness said: 'As for you, faithful servant of my divine Son," you have a great share in this precious treasure. For if it is granted the Daughters of the. Visita-tion to know and propagate it, it is reserved to the Fathers of your Society to make its utility and value known and understood, so that all may profit by it." (Ibid., 406.) Apostle of the Sacred Heart ¯ The process for the beatification of Father Claude de la Colom-blare, of the Society of-Jesus, was begun in 1874. He was declared 124 May, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE Blessed in 1929. In the considered judgment of the Church he is "an outstanding champion and promoter of devotion to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus . Given as guide and master to the holy virgin, Margaret Mary Alacoque, he directed her in ,a wise and holy fashion, especially with regard to devotion,to the most august Heart of Jesus, which from the beginning had not a few adversaries. Cham-pioning and defending it, he merited to be numbered among it chief promoters and outstanding apostles." (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 1929, 505.) Holy Church now prays: "Lord Jesus Christ, Who hast deigned to make Blessed Claude the faithful servant and outstanding lover of Thy Sacrdd Heart, grant us, through his intercession, that we may put on the virtues ~ind be inflamed with the affections of this same Sacred Heart." A prayer Sister Margaret wrote on the back of a picture of Father Claude is not so dissimilar to this. "O blessed Father Claude de la Colombi~re, I take you as my intercessor with ¯ the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ. Obtain for me from His goodness the 'grace not to resist' the designs He has on my soul, and that I may imitate perfectly the virtues of His divine Heart." (~r[e et Oeuvres,, II, 826.) BIBLIOGRAPHY Books are listed in the order in which they are cited in the article. Autobiograph'y. Life of Saint Margare~ Mary Alacoque. Written by" Herself. Translation of the Autentic French Text by the Sisters of the Visitation. Rose-lands, Walmer, Kent. Visitation Library. 1930. A small book written by Sis-ter Margaret Mary with great pain under obedience. Simple, intimate, prayerful. Gauthey, Monseigneur. Ed. Vie et Oeuvres de la Bienheureuse Marguerite Marie Alacoque. Paris. Anclenne Librairie Poussielgue. 1915. 3 volumes. Volume one contains Sister Margaret Mary's Life written by her contemporaries, documents of the process begun in 1715 for her beatification, and some minor let-ters, etc. Volume twocontains her autobiography and 140 letters written by her. Volume three contains documents concerning miracles, archives, her superiors, fam-ily and parish. The three volumes are critically edited. Philip, Sister Mary. A desuit at the English Court. London. Burns, Oates and Washbourne. 1922. An excellent and very readable llfe ot~ Blessed Claude de la Colombi~re. Chapter 17 gives the Retreat he made in London in 1677. an appendix is printed the notes of his long retreat made in his third year of pro-bation after ordination. Hamon, A. Histoire de la Ddt~otion au SacN Coeur. Paris. Beauchesne. 1928 --4 volumes (incomplete). Volume one contains a critical life of St. Margaret Mary. Volume two sketches the history of the devotion to the Sacred Heart till the sixteenth century. Volume three deals with the religious orders and outstanding men and women connected with the devotion in France during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, .especially St. orohn Eudes and St. Margaret Mary. Volume 4 outlines the difficulties the new devotion met with and its progress to 1765, when 125 C. A. HERBST ~: " the Holy See'.approved the first Mass in honor of the Sacred Heart. Volume five, still~in prepar~tlon, will ;aarrate the royal triumph., Guitton, Georges. Le Bienbeureux Claude La Colo.mbi~re. Lyon. Librairie Catholique Emmanuel Vitte. 1943. Quite a long and very critical life: he takes even Hereon to task. Quotes heavily from Blessed Claude's sermons, correspond-ence, the documents of his beatification and the archives of the Society of Jesus. Gives thorough religious and political milieu and background of his life and times. Oeuvres du R.P. Claude de la Colornbi~re de la Compagne de dEsus. Lyon. Librairie Catholique de P~risse Fr~res. 1864. 6 volumes. Contains his sermons, retreat notes, correspondence. This, of course, is the great source on which all writers draw. This is an old edition, with paper turnin~g brown, small print and hard to read, but was the only one at hand. The newer edition is by Chattier, Oeuvres Cornpl&es, Grenoble, 1900-1901, 6 volumes. Volume six of this newer edition contains the Retreat and his letters. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, Rornae, typis polyglottis Vaticanis. In this work are printed the official acts of the Hbly See and the various Roman Congregations dealing with the canonization of saints and the like. It is published serially each year. REPRINTS: SINGLE SETS We are now able to sell sets of our reprint booklets for one dollar per set. The set includes on~ copy each of these bo.~klets~ No. 1: Articles on Prayer by Father Ellard; No. 2: Articles on "Gifts to Re-ligious," by Father Ellis; No. 3: Articles on Emotiotial Maturity, Vocational Counseling and the Particular Friendship., by Father Kelly. To order these single sets, please send one dollar and ask [or one set of reprints. Please address, your. order to: The Editors, Review for Religious, St. Mary's Colle~je, St. Marys, Kansas. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The" subscription price of REVI'EW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian subscriptions: $3.35 per year for all foreign subscriptions. For further details-please see inside back cover. ~ 126 Franciscan Spiri ualit:y Alexander Wyse, O.F.M. THE personality of Francis of Assisi was at once so singular, so attractive and so powerful that' today, seven and a quarter cen- " turies after his death, it truthfully is as familiar to the world as that of many living notables. His charm is perennial, his in-fluence seemingly indestructible, his life the subject of an exhaustless series of studies. But this persevering popularity is not merely the result of the unusually felicitous biographies that, even from his very age, have not ceased to paint and interpret his life. While he has indeed had the good fortune of a long train of articulate, admirers --some nai've, others penetrating; some objective, more partisan-- his fame rests clearly on the captivating force of his individual char-acter, on the strength of his personal winsomeness. His clients.may contribute to his undying reputation--but they bare success only because Francis himself is too living a figure ever to die. The Influence of St: Francis This fact is fundamental to a consideration of the specific nature of Franciscan spirituality, because in a sense and a measure perhaps unparalleled in any similar instance the individuality of Francis has founded and oriented the Franciscan school. The venerable Benedictine tradition, as an example, has its own distinctive qualities, deriving from the holy Rule. As the source of Benedictinism, that is a singularly unique document--precise, .mas-terly, definitive as a provision fo~ all possible needs of monasticism: but it is not. in any comparable way, a reflection of the personality of Benedict. By contrast, Franciscan spirituality leans but lightly on the several Rules which the Poverello wrote for his friars,-his nuns, and his followers in the world.1 Rather it looks to the person 1As a matter of fact. while he properly wrote no Rule for either the Second or the Third Order he wrote successively two Rules for the First Order, the Order "of Friars Minor. This fact would bear out the contention that the Rule occupies a relatively secondary place in Franciscan spirituality. It likewise helps to explain the ancient division--whlch in centuries past often amounted to very violent dis-sension-- over the meaning and the force of some of the prescriptions.of the Rule, notabl~; poverty. The Holy See had often to intervene in these disputes, had to promulgate official declarations of the true impbrt of, the disputed points, and has sanctioned three autonomous branches of the Order, each interpreting the mind of the Founder with its own constitutions. Since each of the three families looks with equal devotion to Francis. and with.equal right claims him as Founder and Father, in discussing Franciscan spirituality no distinction is necessary because of these diverse streams. 127 ALEXANDER WYSE Reoiew [or Religious of its founder--which, in his lifetime, was so highly original that it could only with difficulty be confined in the legal" terms' of a rule, and, after his death, has remained singularly fresbl highly distinctive, and extraordinarily fruitful. Rooted thus in the individuafity of the Seraphic Saint, the Franciscan school of spiritual theology has about it many of the features which explain the wide appeal of Francis himself.-° The same qualities that made and make him universally loved, make also the spiritual way that derives from him appealing to a vast army of Christians.~ By imitating his delightfully reasonable and joyfully direct methods of reaching God, countless millions through these seven centuries have grown in spiritual" understanding and advanced in mys, tical union. Cbristocentricisrn of Franciscan Spirituality The basic and most far-reaching quality of Franciscan .spiritual-ity is that it is wholly centered about the Incarnate Son of God.4 The positive and avowed attempt to reproduce ~he life of Christ is the simplest summary of the Franciscan vocation--as.Francis put it, "to obs~erve the holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ." Though the imitation of Christ is radically the heart and soul of all Christian 2That there is a rich fruitfulness in Franciscanism is seen'in the large number of saints and blessed who have worn the distinctive three-knotted cord. There are 48 Saints of the First Order, 4 of the Second, and 42 of the Third: there are 112 Blessed of" the First Order, 21 of the Second, and 80 of the Third (of. Acta Ordinis Fratrum Minorum, LXIX, iii, pp. 126~135). Excluding the causes of these beati being promoted for canonization, there are pending before the., Sacred Congregation of Rites or Diocesan Courts the causes of more than 203 members of the First Order, 25 of the Second, and a numberless group of the Third (Ibid., "LXIX, i, pp. 20-34). aThe prihciples of Franciscan spirituality have not ceased to attract enormous num-bers of Christians even in our day. In 1950 the First Order had a combined total of more than 42,000 members; the Second Order approximately 2,000: the Third Order Regular, in its various congregations of priests, Brothers and Sisters, at least 70,000; the Third Order Secular an estimated 2,800,000. ~'For a more extensive treatment of Franciscan spirituality the following studies may be consulted: ValentinSM~ Breton, O.F.M, La Spiritualit~ Franciscaine (Paris, 1948); Vitus a Bussum, OIF.M.Cap., De Spiritualitate Franciscana (Rome, 1949); Pacificus M. Perantoni, O.F.M., "De Spiritualitate Franciscana," in Acta Ordinis Fratrum Minorurn, LXIX, v, pp. 214-243: Agostino Gemelli, O.F:M., "La Spiritualit~ Francescana," in Le Scuole Catrolicfie di Spiritualit~ (Milan, 1949) ; Franciscan Educational Conference, Report of the Eighth Annual Meeting, (Washington, 1926); Philibert Ramstetter, OIF.M., "Introduction to a Francis-can Spirituality," in Franciscan Studies, December, 1942; Valentin-M. Breton, O.F.M., Le Christ de L'Arne Franciscaine (Paris, 1927). Additional ligh~t is to be 'had from the reading of such classics" as Hilarin Felder, O.F.M.Cap. Thd 1deals oF St. Francis of Assisi (New York, 1925)~ Agostino Gemelli, O.F.M., The Franciscan Message to the World (London, 1934), as well as the many standard biographies of St. Francis. 128 May, 1951 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY living, about Franciscan asceticism there is a more distinctive desire and a special effort t6 conform the life of the dedicated one to that of the Incarnate Son of God. In ngthing is the influence of the founder's life and personality more discernible than in this. For Francis, Christ was the center of all things--the focus of all thought, the object of all_ striving, the inspiration of all action. Christ, Francis loved with a consuming passion, as the most tangible proof of God's all-pervading goodness. He could never cease marveling at the divine goodness: it was a theme that both fascinated and transformed him. ]ks he reflected on it, he w~ould~ cry out in the rapture of his contemplation: "Thou, Lord, art the highest Good, the Eternal Good; from Thee cometh all good, and there is no good without Thee." It is primarily and eminently in the Incarnation of th~ Eternal Son that God has shown forth t6 the world that infinite love which is His essential perfection; and this, to Francis, became the most profound and, at the same time, the most penetrable of mysteries. His soul found in it the most, exalted of divine revelations, reaching into the very bosom of the Godhead ~nd manifesting in a singular way God's in.finite life of love. That in God there should be an Eternal Son generated by love, and that the Eternal Father should give this only-begotten Son for the world's redemption, was for Francis the climaxing proof of God's goodness. It opened up to him--as nothing else in all reality could--the depth of charity with which the Creator cherishes every last one of His creatures. For him, it explained all of life and creation ; it served as the foundation for all his spiritual action. "O Lord, we thank Thee," he wrote in the First Rule, "because, just as Thou hast created us through Thy Soft, so also through that true and holy charity with which Thou hast loved us, Thou hast caused Him to be born of the glorious and most blessed Mary,' ever Virgin most holy, and Thou hast Willed that through His cross and blood and death we sinners be redeemed." ./kbove all else, the Incarnation proves God's goodness in that it teaches us how we must live. Jesus is our model, "leaving us an example"; and hence--as Francis saw with an enviable directness-- the ideal of all spiritual striving is that we imitate His steps. This was the desire which burned in Francis' heart for himself and which he held up to his followers. Thomas of Celano says: "His supreme endeavor, his most ardent wish and foremost principle was to observe the holy Gospel in all and above all things, and to follow 129 ALEXANDER WYSE Review for Religious perfectl'y, 'with all zeal, with the fullest ardor of his spirit, with all "the love of his heart, the doctrine of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to imitate His example. In constant meditation he reflected on His Words, and with deep.intentness he pondered on His works.''~ So fruitful was this contemplation, and so completely did Fran-dis succeed in this. holy ambition to imitate Christ, that he is gen-erally admitted to have been a humanly perfect copy of the Master. Renan, the great skeptic, called him the only true Christian after ~Jesus; and (at the other pole of orthodoxy) St. Bonaver~ture cites the imprinting on his body of the stigmata,as heaven's seal on the ~onformity of Francis' life with Christ's. Love--the Well of Action His d~sire to imitate the supernal example of the Incarnate Son of God was nurtured by an ardent love for Him which literally surpasses our capacity. The "Three Companions" tell us of this burning devotion as the source of Francisr spirituality: "From the time,of his conversion to his death, he loved Christ with his whole heart, bearing, the memory of Him constantly in his mind, praising ,Him .with his lips, and glorifying Him in good works.''6 And Celano expatiates the theme: "His tongue spoke out of the fullness of his heart, and the stream of enraptured love which filled his soul overflowed outwardly. Always he was occupied with Jesus. Jesus he carried in his heart, Jesus in his mou~th, Jesus in his ears,. Jesus in his eyes, Jesus in his hands, Jesus in all his members.''v This attachment to his Saviour revealed itself by Francis' con-stant- preoccupation with the details of the sacred life of the Lord. He had a wholly special attachment to the. feast of Christmas, observing it with a transporting joy and a moving piety. For him it was the feast of feasts--and, if it has become that also for after-generati. ons, his part in making it such is not inconsiderable. He found a fathomless proof of God's love in His condescending to become Man. That the Incomprehensible, the Unchangeable, the Infinite One should humble Himself so wonderfully for our sakes," demonstrated the measureless extent of God's love for us. Not con-tent with having the vision for himself, he longed to make the whole world aware of it. Whether or not it can be demonstrated his- 5.Thomas de Celano, Legenda Prima (Rome, 1906), n. 84. STies Socii, Legenda (Foligno, 1898), n. 68. ~Op. cir., n. I15. 130 May, 1951 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY torically that he did give us the first Christmas crib, it is certain that he had a leading role in helping to establish the custom,s Perhaps more than any other of our popular Christmas observances, in making visible to us the tenderness of the Birth of Christ the Crib has served to establish in the hearts of Christians a new under-' standing and appreciation of the love of God for the human race; in spirit, at least, it is the product of Francis' intense love of the Christ- Child. At the other terminus of that divine life, the saint likewise found another strong motive to honor the love of God for man. His rever-ence for the Passion of Christ colored his whole think~ing; moulded his whole devotion. From the day when he heard the mysterious voice from the crucifix at San Damiano bidding him repair the Church which was in ruins, to that climax of seraphic love in the Five Wounds of the Redeemer imprinted on his body, the sufferings of 3esus were ever before his eyes. Early in his religious life he was one day walking along the road, bathed in tears, expressions of the most profound sorrow issuing from the depths of his soul. When someone asked" him what he was lamenting, he answered that he was weeping for the sufferings of hi's Lord. Moved by the unction and the sincerity with which the saint uttered these words, the other, too, began to weep and sigh in com-passion for the suffering Son of God. This" is more than an anecdote from his legend--it is a symbol of the vast influence of St. Francis in riveting the attention, first, of his followers, and then of all Chris-tianity, upon the Passion of Christ. For it is true that Francis by his devotion to the sacred sufferings has conferred upon Franciscan spirituality a truly distinctive mark. At the same time, by reason of this new note of tender and human feeling which Francis intro-duced into~or, at least so effectively propagated within--Catholic devotional life, he served to give a new orientation to the spiritual life of the whole Church.9 By stressing, as his own character demanded, the element of love in his approach to God, and by 8Cf. Stephen M. Donovan, O.F.M., The Catholic Encyclopedia (New .York, 1913), sub verbo "Crib," IV, p. 489. 9Francis, of course, did not completely disrupt the traditional lines of devotion in the Church. nor did he accomplish the new orientation singlehandedly. Following by less than a century the age of St. Bernard, he solidified the notable contribu-tions of the great Abbot of Clairvaux toward establishing a love and affection for the humanity of God's Son. For a brief summary of the inter-relation of Bernard and Francis in this" spiritual revival, cf. Philip Hughes, A History of the Church (New York, 1935), II, pp. 306-307, 403-404. 131 ALEXANDER WYSE Review for looking more fixedly upon those aspects of God's relations with men which show forth the divine benignity and condescension, he rekindled in the hearts of men the flame of divine charity. He taught his followers--and the world--to serve God, in a special way, out of regard for the love which God has first shown us. Christocentric Theology/ Francis made the love of God--as proven by the Incarnation of Christ---the basis for his whole system of living. More philo-sophical minds than his would expand this notion into a whole explanation of reality[ The idea which Francis established by his preaching, his prayers, his very act of living, his more learned fol-lowers took and worked into a theology that begins and ends with Christ, the fruit of divine love. The concept of the glorification of the Ingarn~ate Son of God-- which Francis instinctively felt and lived--becomes in Franciscan theology the explanation of all things, the prime motive for the cre-ation of the world. Christ, God made Man, in this system was the First Thought of the Creator; He was destined, before the fall of our first parents, before even the making of the world, to receive the homage, the love, th~ service of the human race. All creatures what-soever enjoy the gift of being in view of the preordained Incarnation of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. The supreme mani-festation of God's love and power in the Person of the God-Man was to raise up to the life of the Trinity the'human brothers of Christ. In an excess of divine benignity, God conferred upon the human race the riches of the supernatural life--but with, in, and thrgugh Christ, the Head of all things. It was thus that human creatures, endowed'with intelligence and free will, were predestined to share in the personal life of God. In Christ they were willed and destined and called to glory.~ In view of that .high vocation they were elevated to a supernatural plane by the foreseen graces merited for them by 3esus Christ. That man should have failed to correspond to God's purpose in creating him does not, in Franciscan theology, militate~ against God's primary motive in decreeing the Incarnation of His Son. True, historically, Christ did not come as the King of Glory to receive in His earthly days the adoration and the homage of the world; He came rather as the Man of Sorrows, the suffering Redeemer, the Messias making satisfaction for our sins. Yet this but further illus-trates and enhances God's love. In permitting His Son thus to come, 132 May, 1951 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY to suffer and die on the cross for our redemption, God showed forth His love in a still more striking fashion. Thus in Franciscan theological speculation, as developed by the masters of the school, St. Bonaventure and especially John Duns Scotus, Christ assumes the central position which He already occu-pied in the thought and the life of the unlettered Poverello. All things depend on Him, all things grow through Him, all gifts come from Him to all beings. There is no merit, no promise of eternal life, no blessedness which does not derive from Him. From the part of God, any offering, any virtue, any prayer, has value only insofar as it reflects Jesus Christ. From the part of man, no one arrives at the divine union, no. one knows God, no one serves or pleases the Creator, except through Christ, the Firstborn, the Center and Head of all things. Franciscan theology furthermore eschews the notion of God as the strict Judge demanding vengeance and satisfaction, and sees in Him rather the loving Father who grahts to the Son the privilege of the Incarnation for His human brethren, together with the right to restore them to supernatural life. The Saviour is not so much the victim of divine justice, as He is the friend who, out of love for His Eternal Father and His brothers in the flesh, sacrifices Himself to atone for men's sins. The Passion and the Cross are, in this view, not so much the price demanded for human redemption as they are the yoluntary outpouring of divine love, setting the tone and the pat-tern of the relations between God and man. Povert~l' For all these reasons, as Francis of Assisi insisted, though with-out himself ever formulating his thoughts in such theological termin-ology, there is need of penance and mortification and a voluntary crucifixion on the part of those who know and would repay God's love. If God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, and if the Son so loved us that He willingly emptied Himself of His glory and became obedient even to the death of the cross," there can be little choice for a creature except to imitate that self-sacrificing love and surpassing abnegation. As a logical cohsequence, therefore, of these considerations the three basic qualities 6f Francis-can ascetiscism are generated: poverty, humility, and mortification. In the sixth chapter of the Second Rule of the Friars Minor, St. Francis' speaks of "the sublimity of the highest poverty which has made you, my dearest brothers, heirs and kings of the kingdom 13~3 ALEXANDER WYSE Reoieto t~or Religious of heaven: poor in goods, but exalted in virtu(." In these few words he succinctly demonstrates the pivotal importance which the Fran-ciscan ideal attaches to the observance of poverty as a means of reaching eternal life. Tl~e voluntary stripping oneself of the things of this earth and all attachment to them predisposes one to the practice of all other virtues which, spelling perfection, infallibly lead to ever-lasting l~appiness. Accepting as the most literal truth the promise of the Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs i~ the king-dom of heaven," the Franciscan world has enthroned Lady Poverty as its queen. She has reigned by the clearest title in the hearts and homes of all those who call Francis "father." St. Clare of Assisi-- that gentle maid who more completely than any other caught Fran- Cis' holy enthusiasm for this Seraphic virtue par excellence--success-fully resisted even the efforts of the Holy See to take away from her what she called "the privilege of poverty." St. Bonaventure refers to poverty as "the sublime prerogative" of the Franciscan Order. A thousand examples might be cited, from the bulging Seraphic chron-icles, of this undying fealty and devotion to poverty, for in a true sense this attachment to Lady Poverty is the history of the order. Her saints have been great, her reformers have been virtuous, .her life has been varied and at time even exuberantly stormy--simply because, in days of fervor as of decadence, the haunting image of "that noble and queenly, that most beautiful of women" whom the Poor Man of Assisi made his bride has never ceased to fascinate the Franciscan soul. If the Order of Friars Minor has been divided into three autonomous groups, this has been because the sons of Francis have never failed to be interested in the question of poverty, and have always wanted to safeguard and the more truly cherish that heritage which is the "'privilegium paupertatis," the "'nostii ordinis praeroga-tioa sublimis." The Franciscan views poverty, as a privilege because it enables him the more perfectly to reproduce ~the life of'the Incarnate Son of God. He was po,or; He deliberately chose the privations of a work-ingman's home for Himself and labored as a carpenter. He had nowhere to lay His head. "Being rich, He became poor" for our sakes. This is the source and the inspiration for the unflinching attachment .to this virtue that Francis conceived: as he is made to say in the hauntingly beautiful Salutation of Poverty, she was with' Christ, God's Son made Man, in all the hours of His life, and when _all other, abandoned Him she mounted the cross with Him, to 134 May, l~51 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY embrace Him as He hung dying.1° Struck with the truth of the sanctifying power of this virtue so closely the companion of Holi-ness Incarnate, St. Bonaventure, expresses the traditional Franciscar~ ideal when he praises poverty as the very source and fountainhead of evangelical perfection, 'and the first ]~oundation of the entire edifice of .spirituality. Humility The abasement of the Incarnation must find its counterphrt in the life of him who would grow up to thd stature of Christ. "Humil-iavit semetipsum," said St. Paul of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity--and the words re-echoed in Francis' heart with a new and challenging meaning. If Christ could deprive Himself of the glory that was His everlasting and inalienable due, Ought nor the creatures "redeemed by His sacrifice at least avoid all vainglory, all frivolous pride, all empty self-seeking? Francis admonishes his friars to .appropriate nothing to themselves; they must even beg for the neces-sities~ o[ life--"noi should they be ashan~ed, because the Lord made Himself poor for us in this world." With a true understanding of human nature, Francis recognized his own sinfulness, his proneness tb evil, and his entire dependence upon God for the grace to save him from eternal damnation. So, likewise, he exhorted his friars to be always mindful of their lowli-ness and nothingness. Especially those constituted in high places-- preachers, superiors, the learned-=-he exhorted to remember that, of themselves, they are nothing, and that any dignity, any influence, any learning they possess is theirs by the donation of God. The superiors of his brotherhood are "ministers and servants of the other friars": the fraternity:itself is the Order of Lesser Brethren. Repeatedly Francis praised and cited poverty ands humility, holding them up as the double cornerstone of the Franciscan life: "Let all the brethren strive to follow the humility and poverty of our Lord 3e~us Christ." Humility is the companion of poverty,, but it is more--it is the perfection of the other virtue in that it reaches into the soul. It strips the mind of all encumbrances of human origin, it cleanses the heart of all man-made ideals and values. It is genuine poverty of the spirit. With a tender tenacity the Francis-can soul holds to this ideal of a humble poverty and a detached 10Though this tender apostrophe to his beloved Lady Poverty" is no longer regarded as a genuine writing of St. Francis, its spirit is certainly authentic. The same thought is expressed by Dante, Dioine Comedy, Paradiso, XI, 64-72. 135 ALEXANDER WYSE Review [or Religious humility. The most learned among the friars have been humble men: St. Anthony in the retirement of the friary at Montepaolo meekly hid' those great resources of theological intuition which lately won for him the title of Doctor of the Universal Church; and St. Bonaventure (at least in the legend which cannot 'have been made up from whole cloth) was discovered washing dishes when the papal envoys came bearing the cardinal's hat. The large number of can-onized Franciscan lay-brothers is assuredly a standing testimonial to the high esteem which the traditions of the order place on humility as a means of perfection: it shows that the life of lowly service of others, so perfect an imitation of Christ's self-emptying, is an inte-gral part of Franciscan spirituality. Mortification The whole idea of Franciscansim being to reproduce the life of the Saviour, positive penance has a palmary place in Franciscan living. The example of the suffering Saviour demands of His fol-lowers mortification and discipline. This universal obligation of Christians is, in Franciscan asceticism, elevated to the status of a positive and primary pursuit, the chief means and the most abiding guarantee of which are '~the poverty and humility of our Lord Jesus Christ." With a holy delight the Seraphic Father embraced this means of becoming more like the Ideal. Frequently he exposed himself to the cold,, simply that he might feel in his members the bitterness of that which nature abhors. In his eating, he refrained from anything over and above what was necessary to sustain life, on at least one occa-sion taking, absolutely nothing for forty days except half a loaf of bread. By the disciplines wherewith he chastised his body he sought to bring into subjection every unruly passion and emotion. If the extreme mortification of the Seraphic Lawgiver ha.s been tempered in the case of his followers (for how many will ever receive the extraordinary inspirations which were his wholly personal gift from the Holy Spirit? or will be called by grace to the degree of poverty and humility and penitential chastisements which have so set him apart?), there is yet incumbent upon all the obligation of a positive mortification in imitation of Christ. His followers have included such paragons of corporal p~nance as St. Peter of Alcantara. who for forty-six years scourged himself twice daily, and St. Felix of Cantalice who took his nightly repose kneeling on the floor after 136 Mag, 1951 FR~kNC[SC~kN SPIRITUALITY his daily rounds of begging in the streets of Rome. Yet, for the most part, a certain mildness (stemming from another no less holy facet of Francis' spirit) pervades the Franciscan concept of discipline. The Saviour Himself bade His disciples not to be sad while the BridegroOm was with them, and Francis instinctively" was one of the most joyous of beings. He arose at midnight to eat with the young friar ,who cried out with pangs of hunger. And he legislated that ordinarily the friars should not be obliged to fast, except on Fridays (a wholly revolutionary concept: for Christian religious), and that .those going through the world might use the Gospel-privilege of eating whatsoever was placed before them. The Noble Function of the Wilt These three qualities of poverty, ,humility, and mortification, constitute what may be termed the negative, the privative (or, in the consecrated terminology, the purgative) steps in Franciscan spiritual-ity. The ascent is completed with the positive and active forces of charity and prayer (which correspond to the unitive and illuminative ways). It is in this phase that Franciscan spirituality attains its perfection and sanctifyihg power. Having learned the boundless extent of divine charity, the Franciscan soul yearns to make a return; in its poverty and humility it has nothing else to give God but a return of love. The next step is the unreserved attachment to God, and limitless devotion to the creatures made by God for Christ. A deep awareness of his adopted sonsbip makes him ready to proclaim wlth,Francis, stripped even of the clothes his earthly father bad given him: "Now I can truly say; 'Our Father Who art in heaven.' " This sense of belonging tb God is fostered and st.rengthened by an ever-deepening devotion to Him in whom and for whom this sonship has been brought about. Thus .Franciscan spirituality, with a new intentnes_s, comes back to Christ, its starting point. Whatever honors, exaltsl and glorifies Christ, that is seen to be a means o~ displaying this charity toward God. Hence the Franciscan emphasis on devotion to the historical Christ-- particularly, as in the piety of Francis himself, to His Incarnation and Passion. Hence also that touching reverence for Christ as He yet lives among us in the Eucharist,11 in the priesthood and tlae- 11Francis' devotion to the Eucharist is one of the most important facets of his spiritual life. Father Felder's treatment of this theme (op. cir., chap. III) is ~specially illuminating. 137 ALEXANDER WYSE Review for Religious Church,12 and in the souls of the redeemed,is The will, the faculty of love, occupies in all Franciscan the- 91ogy, philosophy, and life a unique distinction of I51ace. A l~eritage clearly from Francis himself~with his ardent nature, his impulsive and forthright way of proceeding, his unqiaalified and unlimited dis-play of love for the God-Man--the role of the wilI .is, in the Fran-ciscan tradition, a pivotal one. There is a subtle but profound rela-tion between Franciscan~poverty and the generous use made of the agent of human .choice. Divested of all material things, the Francis-can soul finds itself endowed with "the freedom w.herewith Christ has made us free." No longer tied to the passing things of this earth, neither is it bound to the conventionalities of routine, custom, or society. The Poverello himself was one of the most uninhibited char-acters of history, a man da,ringly original and boldly enterprising. In an ever-expanding resolve to save souls for Christ, his venturesome spirit led him fo distant and dangerous shores, where he fearlessly presented himself to the Sultan before whom all Christendom was quaking. Unashamedly he asked (and obtained!) from the Pope for the little chapel of St: Mary of the Angels that plenary indulgence which had been previously conceded only for a pilgri.mage to the Holy Land. He entered into a holy pact with God Himself, wherein the mortified servant of Christ deserved to feel in his own'~flesh the sufferings of the Crucified. This same quality of directness, of daring, of wilful aiad pur-poseful action is always inherent in genuine Franciscanism, and shows itself no less in Franciscan spirituality. Tamed, modified, kept within reasonable check, it is a characteiistic which eminently befits the ~poor of sp!rit. Stripped of all desire of self-aggrandize-ment, the Franciscan seeks nothing of this world, fears nothing of its powerful ones. He is in a position to use the liberty of the sons of God. In a sort of reeling climax to liberty, he subjects himself to .the most complete obedience to God and God's delegates--for obedience is the ultimate in self-assertion, the wild and r~ckless sac-rificing of the right to self-will. 1-'2Cf. Felder, op. cit., for the testimony of Francis' profound reverence for the Church of Christ (chap. IV). 13Among the outstanding evidences of his zea! for the salvation of souls is the twelfth chapter of the "Regula II." It is one of the chief glories of the Franciscan tradition that Francis was the first founder to propose for his followers the ideal 6f '~going among the Saracens and other infidels." He thus helped to launch the greatest era of missionary activity after the Apostolic Age. 138 May, 1951 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY As the will attains its realization in action, inevitably the Fran- " ciscan vocation is one that stresses the apostolate~ Francis--.t,hough at times his soul craved the sweet delights of withdrawal from the world--discovered that the truest way of imitating the Master was, like Him, to go about, "doing good." In labors for the salvation of others Francis and his order seek to live the GoslSel of our Lord Jesus Christ. "Non sibi soli vivere, sed aliis proficere vult, Dei zelo ductus," the Church sings of him.14 In novel and revolutionary-~often 'in all but unpredictablem ways, the Franciscan spirit uses this liberty to bring all things into the kingdom ~designed, from before the foundation of the earth, for God's Eternal Son. There is indeed a great and challenging diversity of methods in the Franciscan apostolate, just as ,there is a most startling, originality discoverable in the Seraphic hosts. Men and women of rare indiyiduality, of almost unclassifiable "character, ~have pledged themselves to reproduce Christ--in themselves and in the world---by living the Gospel. Can there be in the legends of any othe'r religious institute a man so singular as Brother Juniper? so simple as Brother Giles? so unspoiled as Brother Masseo? Has any" other founder welcomed so enthusiastically into his foundation rob-bers who had infested the countryside? or been succeeded in his very lifetime by one so completely his opposite as Elias of Cortona? The Franciscan spirit can embrace, and Franciscan spiritualit~ does sanctify, with equal impartiality, a Duns Scotus of Oxford Univer-sity and a Benedict the Moor from the scullery of Palermo's dark monas~tery. The royal Louis of Toulouse professed the same Rule as the unlettered Paschal Baylon. The mystical Joseph of Cuper-tino is brother to the energetic Leonard of Port Maurice. It is indeed true that, as has been said, by the variety of its manifestations Fran-ciscanism takes on a character of universality, like Christianity itself, which in the Gospel is likened to a tree to which all the birds of the air may come to make their nests. Prayer ' While stressing apostolic actik, ity as an unceasing tribute to Christ the King, the Franciscart soul does not forget the value of prayer. After the example of the Master, Francis himself often interrupted his apostolic labors to refresh and restore his soul in a period of contemplation. Such contemplation, nonetheless, is 14Breoiariura Rornano-Seraphicurn, In festo S. P. N. Francisci, ad Laudes, Ant. 1. 139 ALEXANDER WYSE designed (as is the poverty and humility of the Gospel) to subserve the apostolic vocation. In contemplation the Franciscan draws "waters with joy out of the Saviour's fountains"-~but only that in his preaching and ministry he may the more efficaciously slake the thirst of those who,~ like the hart panting after the fountains .of water, are thirsting after the strong Living God. Seraphic prayer finds its perfect symbol in the figure of Francis on Mount Alverno, his arms raised in the form of a cross. It finds its truest expression in the fervent and heartfelt prayer of the Poor Man on that mystical height: "Who art Thou, my God most sweet? What am I, Thy unprofitable servant and vilest of worms?''15 In explaining later to Brother Leo, his beloved com-panion, that these words expressed his grasp of the depths of the infinite goodness and wisdom and power of God, and the 'deplorable depths of his own vileness and misery, Francis left a classic outline of Franciscan prayer and meditation. It would, of course, be impossible here to explain the special characteristics of mental prayer and contemplation, as elaborated by the masters of Franciscan spirituality. It must suffice to point out two of its salient points: first, it manifests the common Franciscan dependence on the faculty of the will, being affective rather than intuitive; and, second, in prayer as in all else Christ remains the -center. The subjects of predilection for Franciscan meditation are the various phases of the life of the Incarnate Word, while the affec-tions of the heart are offered to the Eternal Father t~hrough the mediumship of Him who is the Source of all things. The truly Franciscan soul but borrows the words of the Seraphic Father: "Because we all are miserable sinners and are not worthy to call upon Thee, weo humbly.ask our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy beloved Son in whom Thou wast well pleased, together with the Holy Ghost the Paraclete, to thank Thee." lSThe Little Flowers of St. Francis (Everyman's Library), p. 11 1. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian Subscriptions; $3.35 per year for all foreign subscriptions. For further details please" see inside back cover. 140 Apostolic Constitution Sponsa Christi [EDITORS' NOTE: We present here the positive legislation contained in ,Sponsa Christi, the Apostolic Constitution of Pope Pius XII, given under date of Novem-ber 21, 1950, and published in the Acta Apostolicae 8edis, official publication of the Holy See, under date of January 10, 1951, pp. 15-21. The general statutes from the papal document given below are preceded by a lengthy historical and ex-hortatory introduction on the origin and development of the contemplative life for women consecrated" to God, pp. 5-15. ] GENERAL STATUTES FOR NUNS Article 1 § 1. The term nuns is used in this Apostolic Constitution as it is in the Code (c. 488, 7°). In addition to religious women with solemn vows, it includes those who have pronounced simple vows, perpetual or temporary, in moqasteries where solemn vows are actually taken or should be taken according to the institute, unless it certainly appears otherwise from the context or from the nature of the case. § 2. The legitimate use of the term nuns (c. 488, 7°) and the application of the laws concerning nuns are not at variance with the following: (1) s.imple profession made in monasteries according to law (§ 1); (2) minor pontilical cloister prescribed or duly granted for mo~iasteries; (3) the pe?formance of apostolic works which are joined with the contemplative life either by reason of a provision approved and confirmed by the Holy See for certain orders or by the " lawful prescription or grant of the Holy See to certain monasteries. § 3. This Apostolic Constitution does not affect the juridical status of: (1) religious congregations (c. 488, 2°) and the Sisters who are members of them (c. 488, 7°), who take only simple vows according to their institute; (2) societies of women living in com-mon after the manner of religious and their members (c. 673). Article 2 § 1. The special form of religious monastic life which nuns are obliged to follow carefully and for which they are destined by the Church .is the canonical contemplative life. § 2. The term, canonical contemplative life, does not denote that internal and theological contemplation to which all persons in religious.institutes as well as those living in the world are invited, 141 POPE PIUS Xll Revieto for Religious and which individuals everywhere can lead by themselves, but it sig-nifies the external profession of religious discipline which, by reason of cloister, or the exercises of piety, prayer, and mortification, or finally by reason of the work which the nuns are obliged to under-take, is directed to interior contemplation in such a way that their whole life and whole activity can easily and should etficaciously be imbued with zeal for it. § 3.If canonical contemplative life cannot be habitually ob-served under a strict, regular discipline, ,the monastic character is neither to be granted nor, if it be had already, is it to be retained. Article 3 § 1. The solemn vows of religion which are pronounced by all the members of a monastery or at least by the members o17 one, class constitute the characteristic note in virtue of which a monastery of women is legally considered among the regular orders and not among the religious congregations (c. 488, 2°). Moreover, all the pro-fessed religious women in, these monasteries come under the term regulars according to'canon 490, and are properly speaking not called Sisters but nuns (c. 488, 7°). § 2. All monasteries in which only simple vows are taken can obtain a restoration of solemn vows. Indeed, unless truly grave rea-sons prevent it, they will be solicitous about taking them again. Article 4 While always keeping for all monasteries those character-istics which are, as it were, natural to it, the stricter cloister of nuns which is called pontifical shall in future be distinguished into two classes: major and minor. § 2. i o Major pontifical cloister, namely, that which is described in the Code (cc. 600-602) ,is clearly confirmed by this Our Apostolic Constitution. By Our Authority, the Sacred Congregatio~i of Reli-gious will declare the causes for which a dispensation fromthe major cloister may be given, so that, while the nature of cloister is kept unimpaired, it may more suitably be adapted to the circumstances of our times. 2° Major pontifical cloister, without prejudice to § 3, 3°, must flourish by reason of law in all monasteries which profess the contemplative life exclusively. § 3. i° Minor pontifical cloister will retain those characteristics of the old cloister of nuns and will be protected with those sanc- 142 May, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI tions which the Instructions of the Holy See expressly define as neces-sary for the preservation and safeguardifig of its natural purpose. 2° Subject to this minor pontifical cloister are the monas-teries of nuns with solemn vows which, by their institute or by legitimate gran~, undertake work with externs in such a way that quite a number of religious and a notable part of the house are habitually devoted to these occupations. 3° Similarly, each and every monastery in which only simple vows are taken, even though devoted exclusively to contem-plation, must be subject at least to the prescriptions of this cloister. § 4. 1° Pontifical major or minor cloister must be considered a ¯ necessa)y condition not only that solemn vows may be taken (§ 2) but also that those monasteries in which simple vows are taken (§ 3) may in the future l~e considered as true monasteries of nuns according .to canon 488, 7°. 2° If even the rules for the minor pontifical cloister cannot be generally observed, the solemn vows which may have been had are to be taken away. § 5. 1° The minor pontifical cloister is to be observed in places where the nuns do not take solemn vows, especially in those points in,which it is distinguished from the cloister of congregations or that of orders of men. 2° Howeve'r, if it is clearly evident that even the minor cloister cannot be observed in an individual monastery, that monas-tery must be changed into a house of a congregatibn or of a society. Article 5 § 1. Among women consecra[ed to God the Church deputes only nuns to offer public prayer to God in her name, in choir (c. 610, § 1) or privately (c.'610, § 3) ; and she places upon them a grave obligation by law to carry out this public prayer daily at'the canon-ical hours according to the norm of their constitutions. § 2. All monasteries of nuns as well as individual nuns, whether professed of simple or solemn vows, are everywhere obliged to recite the Divine Office in .choir according to c. 610, § 1 and the norms of their constiti~tions, § 3. According to c. 610, § 3, nuns who have not taken solemn vows are not strictly obligated to the private recitation of the canon-ical hours when they have been absent from choir unless their con-stitutions expressly provide otherwise (c. 578, 2°). Nevertheless, 143 POPE PlUS XII Reuiew for Religious as was stated above (Art, 4), it is the mind of the Church not only that solemn vows should be restored everywhere but also that, if they cannot be restored for the present, nuns who have simple perpetual vows in place of solemn vows should faithfully fulfill the work of the Divine Office. § 4. In all monasteries the conventual Mass corresponding to the Office of the day according to the rubrics is to be celebrated in so far as this is possible (c. 610, § 2). Article 6 § 1. 1° Unlike other religious houses of women, monasteries 9f nuns are autonomous (sui iurfs) by reason of the Code and according to its norms (c. 488, 8°). 2° The superiors (antistitae) of individual monasteries of nuns are major superiors by law and are endowed with all th~ pow- ,ers which are due to major superiors (c.48'8, 8°), except some that from the context or from the nature of the power would concern men only (c. 490). § 2. 1° The extent of the condition of independence or autonomy (sui iuris), as it is called, of monasteries of nuns is defined by both common and particular law. 2° The juridical guardianship which the law grants tO the local ordinary or to the superiors regular over individual mon-asteries is in no way derogated from by this Constitution or by federations of monasteries allowed by the Constitution (Art. 7) and ,established by its authority. 3° The juridical relations of individual monasteries with the local ordinaries or with the superiors regular continue to be regu-lated by ~he common law as well as by particular law. § 3. This Constitution does not determine whether individual monasteries are subject to the authority of the local ordinary or, within the 'limits of the law, are exempt from it and. are subject to the superior regular. Article 7 § I. Monasteries of nuns are not only autonomous (c. 488, 8°) but also juridically ~ distinct and independent of each other and only united and joined together by spiritual and moral bonds even though by law they be subject to the same first order or religious institute. § 2. 1° The formation of federations is in no way opposed to May, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI the common liberty of monasteries,'which is accepted as a m.atter of fact rather ,than imposed by law; nor should, these federations be considered as forbidden by law or in any way less in accordance with ¯ the nature and purposes of the religious life 6f the nuns. 2° Though not prescribed by any general law, federations of monasteries are, nevertheless, strongly recommended by the Holy See not only to prevent the evils and disadvantages which can arise from complete separation bug also to promote regular observance and the contemplative life. § 3~. The formation'of every kind of federation of monasteries of nuns or of a union of federation~ is reserved to the Holy See. § 4. Every federation or union must necessarily be ruled and governed by its own laws approved by the Holy See. § 5. 1° Without prejudice to Article 6;§§ 2 and 3. and to the special type of autonomy defined above (§ 1), there is no objection, in the formation of federations of monasterieS, ',to the introduction of equitable conditions and mitigations of autonomy, which may seem to-be necessary or more useful, after the example of certain monastic congregations and orders, whether of canons or of monks. 2° Nevertheless, any types of federation which seem con-trary to the aforesaid autonomy (§ 1) and which tend towards centralization of government are reserved to the Holy See in a special manner and may not be introduced without Its express permission. § 6. Federations of monasteries are of pontifical right according to the norms of canon law both because of their source of origin and - of the authority upon which they directly depend and by which they are governed. § 7. The'Holy See may exercise immediate supervision and authority, as the case may require, over a federation through a reli-gious assistant, whose duty it will be not only to represent the Holy See but alsb to foster the genuine spirit proper to the order and to give superiors assistanc~ and advice in the right and prudent govern-ment of the federation. §8. 1° The statutes of a federation should conform to the pre-scribed norms to be prepared by the Sacred Congregation of Religious by Our Authority and to the nature, laws, spirit, and traditions, whether ascetical or disciplinary or juridicgl and apostolic, of the reli-gious order concerned. 2° The principal purpose of federations of monasteries is 145 POPE PIUS XII Review for Religious to f~rnish mutual fraternal a~sistance not only by fostering the reli-gious spirit and regular monastic discipline, but also by promoting ¯ the economic welfare. 3° Should the case arise, special norms are to be proVided in order to approve statutes through which the permission and moral obligation of transferring nuns from one monastery to another should be regulated when these measures are considered necessary for the government of the monasteries, the training of the novices {n~ a common novitiate established for all or for many of the monasteries, and for other moral or mate}ial needs of the monasteries or of the nuns. Article 8 " § 1. The monastic work, which even the nuns who lead a con-templative life are obliged to perform, should as far as possible be suited to the rule, constitutions, and traditions of the individuaI .orders. ~. § 2. ,This work should be regulated in such a way that, along 'with other sources of income approved by the Church (cc. 547-551, 582) and with the abundant assistance of Divine Providence, it will provide secure and fitting support for the nuns. § 3. 1° Local ordinaries, superiors regular, and superiors, of monasteries and of federations are obliged to use all diligence that the nuns may never be wanting in necessary, adequate, and profitable work. 2° On ~heir part, nuns are bound in conscience not only to earn their doily bread by the honest sweat of their brow, as the Apostle teaches (II Them. 3:10), but they should also make them-selves more skillful day by day in the different kinds of work required by present times. Article 9 In order to be found faithful to their divine, apostolic vocation, all nuns must not only use the general means o~ the monastic aposto-late, but they shall also attend to the following:- . § 1. Nuns who have definite works of a particular apostolate prescribdd in their constitutions or in approved rules are obliged to devote themselves entirely and constantly to these works according to the norms of their constitfitions, statutes, or rules. § 2. Nuns who lead an exclusively contemplative life should observe .the .following: 146 May, 1951 MEDITATION FOR A MOTHER SUPERIOR 1° If, according to their particular traditions, they now have or bare had a special kind of external apostolate, let them faith-fully retain it after having adapted it, without harm to their life of contemplation, to modern needs; if they have lost it, let them dili-gently take means to restore it. If there is any doubt about adapta-tion, let them consult the Holy See. 2° On the other hand, if the purely contemplative life, according to the approved constitutions of the order or its traditions, has never, been joined to the external apostolate' in a permanent and enduring manner up to.the present time, then, only in cases of neces-sity and for a limited time, the nuns may, and at lea~t out of charity should, occupy themselves with those forms of the apostolate, "espe-cially such as are unique or personal, which may seem to be com-patible with the contemplative life as observed in their order according to the norms to .be fixed by the Holy See. h edi!:a!:ion t:or a Nkot:her Superior Mother Mary Elizabeth, D.C. Love knoweth no measure Feareth no labor Maketh sweet all that is bitter Findeth rest in God alone LOVE knoweth no measure, no measure of forgiveness. A group of persons living in such. close proximity as religious must, are keenly aware of the weakness of human nature. They begin to understand why Our Lord on the cross prayed: "Forgive them, for they know not what they do." And if this understanding comes to those who have no special rseponsibility for other souls, how ~rnuch more dearly to those whom God invests with His authority? So the Sister Superior must learn to love without measure, in the sa'me manner as Christ has lo~ved her. It is well to recall that the rulers of the Jews said that Christ was guided by Beelzebub . Superiors follow (or should follow) more closely in the footsteps of Christ, and they musthave His spirit. He dictated a very beautiful com-mand one evening: '"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." 147 Ma~!, 1951 MEDITATION FOR A MOTHER SUPERIOR Feareth no labor: The superior must never call a moment her own." Her time belongs to the Sisters; consequently there should be no so-called "inter,ruptions" in her life. In. giving herself to the community, either directly to the individual members or indirectly. by her care of the house, she is but doing her duty. She should be the last to think of rest, of ease from work, of consolations. "It is for thee to be the support of tl~y brethren." To be the support, the strength, of the weak, the despondent, the discouraged religious. The superior has to deal with each soul in these categories asa mother does with a sick (or peevish) child. She makes sweet the wood of the cross so that her daughters may carry it willingly, carry it joyfu~ly, and, at the end, triumphantly, to the portal of Heaven. Maketh sweet all that is bitter: To give one's will into the hands of another, a symbol of slavery, is the hardest sacrifice God asks of man. To make light the burden of obedience and to sweeten the bitterness found in community life is the task of the superior of the house. In doing this she will be called upon to. forget herself :i thousand times. In each community the superior should image the Rule. In her the religious should find the peace, the joy of laboring for Christ, and the rest tfiat comes to a contented heart doing all for God. Findeth rest in God alone: Truly this is the only consolation worthy of the name. It is reserved, not to superiors, but to the superior after God's own heart. In distractions often, in cares with-out number, in burdens multiplied, the superior should seek rest only in the Heart of Christ. When the power that comes from God alone was conferred upon her, she was set apart. Not that she was made better than others, not that by the very fact of authority she was made perfect, but only because God delegated to her the power that is His by righ,.t. "'Going-up-into the mountain He called unto Him whom He would . " Not because of the spiritual worth of the individual but only because God wills it is a man or a woman set apart to lead and govern other souls. If Christ called all to come to Him that they might be refreshed, how much more those who are burdened with a greater share of the Cross of the Lord? OUR CONTRIBUTORS ALEXANDER WYSE is the director of the Academy of American Franciscan History, Washington, D.C. MOTHER MARY ELIZABETH is prioress of the Carmel of St. Joseph, Long Beach, California. C. A. HERBST and AUGUSTINE KLAAS are members of the faculty at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 148 Current: Spiri!:ual Writ:ing Augustine Klaas~ S.3. From La Vie Spirituelle IN.THE MARCH .1950 number of La Vie Spirituelle there is an intriguing little symposium on the subject: "It is difficult to grow old." The matter is of current, practical interest for religious, who too must learn the not-so-easy art of growing old gracefully. Doctor H. Muller pres.ents an introductory survey, noting the marked increase in the number of old people, owing to the reduction of infant mortality, the increasingly successful fight against disease, and. other factors, all of which are adding years to the life-span of society's various classes, including religious. (In the U. S. A. since 1900, a period in which the population has doubled, the.number of persons over sixty-five years old has quadrupled, from three to twelve million in the fifty-year period.) Unfortunately, along with an increase in numbers, has Come a noticeable change of status. When the old were comparatively few, they were honored and respected, and their advice was dutifully sought, but the situation has now greatly altered, presenting nev~ problems of adjustment both psychological and social. Also; the old today are too often "bad patients," discouraging attention and affection, precisely because many have not learned how to grow old in a calm, mature .way. When the life-span was barely thirty years, the saying used to be: "Brother, you are going to have to die." Today it is rather: "Brother, you are going to have to get old." You will be old, perhaps ten, twenty, and even thirty years. The prob-lem must be courageously met and solved on the material and~ above all, on the spiritual plane. H. Duesberg draws a charming portrait of the aged as found in the Old Testament, comparing it not unfavorably with the one sketched in the ancient classical writers and those of the Middle and Far East. After an upright, useful life, the aged man is represented as living out his long years with dignity, while at the same time going down steadily and inexorably to the tomb. Old age may be burdensome and subject to various untoward vicissitudes: never-theless, it is always preferable to death, for as Ecclesiastes (9:4) says 149 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reuieu~ [or Religious somewhat quaintly: "A living dog is better than a dead lion." Old age merits respect and reverence: "Rise up before the hoary head, and honor the person of the aged man" (Leviticus 19:32). Old age is itself the reward for honoring the old, especially one's parents: "Honor thy father and mother . that thou mayest live a long time" (Deuteronom~ 5:16). What splendid examples of old age there are in the Old Testament: Tobias, Sara~ Abraham, Isaac, Joseph, Moses, Samuel, David. Of course, as we might expect, there were also some unworthy old persons, such as the two accusers of Susanna. The old are the living embodiment of the 15ast, particu-larly of the previous generation. Even after they have died they continue to live on in their children and in the memory they leave behind them of their wisdom and experience. Duesberg concludes: "The serenity of the aged ih the. Old Testament is remarkable, for they drew a maximum of confidence and resignation from what they themselves had learned and from what God had taught them." The increasing number of the old presents also an economic problem, a problem of material assistance, which the symposium does not cover. However, Armand Marquisat tells of an interesting association of men, formed in Paris to help solve the social probl,em of the aged. The men call themselves the Little Brothers of the Poor. The group was started by three gentlemen in Paris at Easter 1946: it now numbers over thirty. These laymen, propose to help the old in ev~ry possible way in the places where they live, fre- "quently alone and in need. Some of the Brothers are part-time, others full-time workers, who visit these aged people several times a week, to look after their food, lodging, clothing, medical, and spir-itual care. Professional men and workers of all types are members, and all have placed themselves under the patronage of St. Francis of Assisi. It is a lay institute that vows to serve the aged in this ,very practical, effective, ChriStian way. The symposium, concerned mainly with the spiritual side of the problem, contains a good article by Father Ji Perinelle, O.P., a reli-gious of advanced age and wide experience. He notes that people grow old unevenly. Some keep their mental and bodily faculties intact almost till the very _end; others deteriorate more rapidly and are subject to disease: All experience a certain loss of liberty, a growing dependence on others, and a gradual isolation that does not: lighten their.physical or moral iils. Countering'the~e, there is a tendency among the old themselves to excess in one direction or May, 1951 (]URR~NT WRITING another, and very frequently a pronounced egotism, showing itself in constant speaking onl~ of self and one'Sqlls, or complaining, or demanding that every whim be satisfied, or a lack of gratitude for favors done. Certainly these are not the .proper attitudes that age should bring along with it.' ¯ Old age is'a sthge of life willed by God and like the other stages should contribute to the advancement of one's spiritual good. God governs old age by His Providence; He is all--powerful, all-wise, and all-loving (Rorn. 8:28). The old have the grace at hand to meet the trials of this period of life (II. Corr. 4:16).~ Perhaps St. Paul is the great example of a man growing old in the right way; he did not falter towards the end, but finished victoriously the combat and the race (II. Tim. 4:6-8). Father Perinelle gives some wise counsels for the aging. The first group pertain to the exterior, the second to the interior life. a) Health: Don't become obsessed with care for your health, always an.xiously looking at the thermometer, taking the pulse count, noticing the draughts, etc. Restrict gradually your external activity; live a well~ordered life; keep up a certain minimum of physical exer-cise; attend, faithfully to personal hygiene; watch eating habits; meet weakness~ illness, and finally death itself with resignation and cheer-fulness, as preludes to the call of the Master. b) Work: Keep on doing some real work, physical or mental, at a fixed time every day, no matter how little it may be. But do not persist in doing'work, for which you are no longer fitted. You are not a good judge in this matter; hence listen to the advice of others. Hand over your principal tasks to younger hands, even though this is not an easy thing to do. And don't imp0se.your advice on others, either. Accept the fact that your counsel, when asked, often will not be followed and finally will no longer even be asked for. c) Relations with others: Try to keep in touch with your life-long friends, but do not be locked-up l in the past. Giveyourself generously to the rising generation. Y~u are the bridge between the old and the new. Times change and certainly some real progress is. being made in the wo~ld. Your e.xperience can .contribute to it, if you are not intr.ansigent in clinging to the past. Be like the Catholic Church in this matter, sanely adapting herself to modern conditions. And keep up with the times, if you ~an, but above all keep an open, mind. Read something daily in a slow, reflecting way~ Maintain a 151 AUGUSTINE KLRAS Reoieto for Religious kindly sense of humor in your dealings 'with others. There are two dangerous .attitudes regarding the new members of your religious order or congregation: the first is to have little con-fidence in their capacity and hence to lower the standards of religious life in their favor. This must not be done, but rather a total giving of s~lf must be demanded of young religious. The second wrong attitude is to wish to impose rigidly on the newcomers what you yourself went through. No, prudent adaptation is what is wanted here. Let them prefer reading St. Paul tb reading Rodriguez! And do not attempt to impose inflexibly on the younger generation o.f religious your methods of teaching and apostolate. Guide them, surely, but leave them some initiative of their own. Finally, do not try to appear younger than you really are and thus make yourself ridiculous. Act your age. As for the interior life, remember that God loves the old in a special way because they .are weak and feeble, just as ,for the same reason He has a particular love for children. If you are faithful and prayerful, God will keep you company to your Emmaus when "it is towards evening and the day is now far spent." Two things are to be noted spiritually: you must acquire a spirit of detachment and an understanding or feeling for eternity. All things are passing: the old are very much aware of this. It should make them reflect and pass a true judgment on the fleeting things of time. Past sins must be acknowledged. There must be contrition and penance, but also an immense trust and confidence in God. The o!d feel their poverty-- empty hands after such a long life; God must be their riches now. The old feel their weakness; let God be their strength. They feel powerless to do good; God is now their all. , A sense of eternity must be gradually acquired by the old, for the beatific vision and all that it implies is drawing near. Live in the hope of it; await it longingly. Be humble, be kind, be tolerant of others, pray much, offer up the remaining days of suffering and your Ideath, pray continually throughout the day for y6urself, for your dear ones, for the world, for the Church. See to it that extreme unction and the last rites be administered to you betimes.' Death is the gate,way to eternity: be at peace, cheerful, joyful, expectant. Father A. Masson, ordained recently at the age of seventy-four, likens old age to the season of Advent. It is a time of hope,, ending in a birth. All the Advent liturgy and the prophecies of the Old 152 Mug, 1951 Q~URRENT WRITING Testament can be al3plied luminously to old age. There are three births: the physical one to natural life; the spiritual one of baptism to supernatural life; and the last one to the life of the beatific vision. Are not the death-days of the saints and martyrs called their bi~th-days? Let me close this subject with this little paragraph by Father Sertillanges, O.P., who at the age of eighty-five wrote as beautifully as ever: "For the Christian, old age is not a final farewell to what-ever appeals and desperately clings to our lust for life. Quite the contrary, it is the full growth and final flowering of hope. It is the threshold of what had merely been suggested by t.he springtime of life. It is the first sight of land after an apparently interminable voyage. It is the veil which has been torn from an illusion and exposes to view the supreme realities. Old age is the approach to God. Descent into the grave, since i~ represents, but a partial truth, is an illusion. Rather do we ascend." From Reoue d'Asc~tique et de Mgstique In the January-March 1950 number of Revue d'Asc~tique et de M~tstique there is a seven-article symposium on the general subject: Spiritual Problems of Our Times and Ignatian Spiritualitg. I should like to summarize the article by Father Louis Verny, S.J., on a vital point of Ignatian spirituality, namely, Ignatian prayer, a subject about which there is sometimes misunderstanding and error. The title is "in actione contemplatious," which may be translated approxi-mately: "in action contemplative," or "contemplative in the midst of action," or "contemplative while active." This type of prayer, along with others, is mentioned in a letter of Father Jerome Nadal, S.J., who wasin close contact ~ith Saint Ignatius Loyola for many years. I quote the passage of Nadal's letter from the French of Father Verny: "That prayer is a capital item of prime necessity in a religious institute is most evident. I am speaking of the prayer referred, to in this text of St. Paul: "I will pray with the spirit, but I will'pray with the understanding also" (I Cot. 14:15). It is the prayer which contains, all the phases of spiritual development: the purga-tive, illuminative, and unitive. Wherefore actively, and even avidly, does the Society give herself to it in full measure in Christ Jesus, For there is no one of her members that she does not at first start off .with meditations suited to first conversion and to the putting off of the 153 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reoieto for Religious old man. Then, by means of contemplations on all the mysteries of Christ ~we seek.to develop ever more in ourselves the realized knowl-edge of Him who is "the Way, the Truth, and the Life." Finally, we find repose in love. What is the necessary beginning of. prayer we find again at its term: charity, the highest and sublimest of the virtues. So that, filled with a very ardent zeal drawn from prayer, we set out for our ministries full of joy in Christ 3esus, with humil-ity of heart, satisfaction, and courage. This is what we draw from the~ book of Exercises. "Although this is no't the time to treat of prayer, there is a fact which I do not wish to omit. Father Ignatius had received from God the .special grace to rise without effort 'to the contemplation of the Most Holy Trinity and to repose in it a lon~ time~ Sometimes he was led by grace to contemplate the whole Trinity; he was 'trans-ported' into it and united himself to it with his whole heart, with ¯ intense sentiments o~ devotion, and a deep spiritual relish. Some-times he contemplated the Father alone, sometimes' the Son, some-times the Holy Spirit. This contemplation of the Most Holy Trinity was accorded him often at other periods of his life, but he received it principally, and almost exclusively even, during the last years of his earthly pilgrimage. "If such prayer was granted to Saint Ignatius, it was a great privilege and of an entirely different order. But "he likewise had another privilege which made him see God present in all things and in every action, with a lively sense of spiritual realities; contem-plative in the midst of action, according to his ordinary expression: finding God in all things. Now, this grace which illumined his soul 'was revealed to us as much by a kind of brightness which emanated from his countenance as by the enlightened sureness with which he acted in Christ. We were filled with admiration for it, our hearts were much consoled by it, and we felt as though the overflow of these graces was descending on ourselves. Furthermore we believe that this privilege which we noted in Saint Ignatius is likewise granted to the whole Society; we are confident that the gift of this prayer and contemplation awaits us all in the Society, and we strongly assert that it is a part of our vocation." Three tfiings are brought out in the text of Father Nadal's rev.ealing letter: 1) ordinary prayer~ and ordinary contemplation, .that is, contemplation in the sense in which it is used in the Spiritual Exercises; 2) infused contemplation, or mystical prayer, with which 154 May, 1951 CURRENT WRITING Saint Ignatius was greatly favored; 3) a state of soul described by the phrase "in action contemplative" or "contemplative in the midst of action," which Saint Ignatius cultivated himself and recommended most highly for his sons, and Father Nadal considered an integral part of a Jesuit's vocation. We are interested here in this last type of prayer, to which Father Verny devotes most of his article. Although it does characterize Jesuit spirituality, it is not for Jesuits only, but can be utilized, at least to some extent, by all.orders and congregations engaged in the active apostolat.e. At the outset Father Verny compares the Jesuit formula "in actione contemplatious . in action contemplativeS' with the forrrfula -of.St. Thomas Aquinas, which can be expressed somewhat like this: "'contemplari et contemplata aliis tradere'" ("to contemplate and to communicate to others .what one has contemplated"). There is some dispute as to whether St. Thomas's formula ref~s to what is technically called the "mixed life," the life of the active apostolate, because it seems rather to accentuate the contemplative element. If it does, it differs from :the Ignatian formula, since the latter certainly puts the stress on the active apostolate. Also, the Thomistic formula seems to refer to alternate activities, namely, to contemplate and then to impart the fruit of one's contemplation, .whereas the Ignatian formula indicates something simultaneous, apostolic action perme-ated with contemplation. Father Verny then takes up the Jesuit formula and has no diffi-culty proving from the Spiritual Exercises and the Formula of the Institute that apostolic action is the vocation of the Jesuit. The Society of Jesus is an essentially active order, a mobile force ready to give apostolic service of almost any and every kind. What is the contemplative element that must permeate its active apostolate? Father Verny says that it can be expressed in two ways, each one implying the other. The contemplative element in the active apostolate is the state of soul resulting from the complete, unconditional, definitive self-surrender to Jesus Christ and total enlistment in H~s cause, spoken of in The Spiritual Exercises. It is begun in the Kingdom meditation, enhanced by the Two Standards, perfected by the Three Degrees of Humility, completed and actuated day after day by the intimacy with Our Lord that is derived from the daily contemplation of Him in the Gospels. This close intimacy with Christ is the fruit of the Second Week, perfected and made more 155 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Ret@to ~or Religious precise in the rest "of the Exercises, and extended throughout life, since the contemplation of the Gospels is a life-long task. It" is renewed every day at Holy Mass and Holy Communion, and in visits to the Blessed Sacrament. It expresses itself in frequent thought of' Christ, confidences, exchange of gifts, and the acquire-ment of a common mind with Christ. It is the asslmilation and "putting on of Christ," who is "the Way, the Truth, and the Life." Father Leonce de Grandmaison calls it "virtual prayer"--a recalling of the presence of God and an actuation more or less'explicit of "that transcendental love which we owe to God Our Lord." He points out some of' its qualities: "apostolic interests placed above selfish interests; divine views over human views; the spirit of Christ pre-ferred to the spirit of the world." This thinking with Christ, this participation in His interior dis-positions, this ever more perfect assimilation and putting on of Christ, can be expressed in a second way, namely, by using the language of the Institute. I cite some of the more important pas-sages. For instance, he who enters the Society of 3esus must take care "always to have before his eyes first God, th~n the spirit of the Insti-tute, which is a way of ascending to Him." Again, the seventeenth of .the Rules of the Surnrnar~ : "Let all endeavor to have a right intention, not only in their state of life, but in all particulars, seeking in them always sin.cerely to serve and please the divine Goodness for itself . And in all things let them seek God, casting off as much as possible all love of creatures, that they may place their whole affection on the Creator of them, loving Him in all creatures and them all in Him, according to His most holy and divine Will." The significant phrases "for the greater glory, of God," "for the greater service of God" constantly recur in the Spiritual Exercises and in the Constitutions. Here is what we read in the preamble to the Election: "In every good Election, as far as regards ourselves, the eye of the intention ought to be single, looking only to the end for which I was ~reated, which is, for the praise of God our Lord . . ." Besides a right intention, a spirit of faith must be had, especially" with regard to obedience. A few selections at random from the Constitutions: "acknowledging the Superior, whoever he be, as holding the place of Christ our Lord." With regard to illness: "using pious and edifying words, showing that he accepts l~is sick-ness as a gift of our Creator. and Lord." These ideas are especially clear in the seventh part of the Constitutions, where there is question 156 Ma~t, 1951 CURRENT WRITING of apostolic ministries in the strict sense, but they also form an under-current in all the parts and also in the General Examen. The twenty-ninth rule, on external comportment, ends: "and hence it will follow that, considering one another, they will increase in devo-tion and praise our Lord God, whom every one must strive to acknowledge in another as in His image." Thus we see sufficiently that to be "contemplative in the midst of action" involves essentially a kno~ving, a loving, and a putting on of Christ ever more and more, and various ways of seeking and finding God in all things, persons, and events, especially by a right intention and the spirit of faith. Father Verny points out three saints in whom we can easily recognize this excellent state of soul, because they were eminently "contemplative in the midst of action." The first is St. Ignatius himself, whom Father Nadal describes in the last part of the letter cited above. The second is blessed Peter Faber. After noting his manifold works for the Church, the fifth lesson of his Office con-tinues: "And while unceasingly he was doing such great deeds for the glory of God, he was with heart and mind so united to God that he seemed to be occupied With nothing but heavenly things." May we not apply to him the words of Holy ~Scripture: oculi mei semper ad Dominum . my eyes are always on the Lord"? The third example is $t. Vincent de Paul, as can also be readily seen from his Office. No doubt we could add many more: Francis. Xavier, Peter Canisius, Francis Regis, Isaac Jogues, Peter Claver, but also Charles Borromeo, Francis de Sales, Alphonsus Liguori, the holy Cur~ of Ars, Francesca Cabrini, and many others, both men and women. For them God has become an atmosphere, and all their activity takes place in this atmosphere. The activity may be very intense, overwhelming and extremely distracting, still it leaves intact unity and liberty of soul. Amid all the bustle and confusion, interiorly there is real silence and recollection. Send Saint Francis Xavier or Blessed Peter Faber on as many missions as you will, you will not change the spiritual atmosphere in which they move. ~ Multiply the" letters of St. Ignatius or the human miseries which St. Vincent de Paul tried to alleviate, deep down within, their tranquility of soul remains, their "conversation is in heaven." They are "contemplative in the mids~ of action." Their "eyes are always on the Lord." Of course, all this is an ideal, and a very high one. To reach it the~e are two stage~. The first emphasizes~the ascetical element. It 157 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reviev., for Religious consists in the systematic and persevering practice of various spiritual ~exercises: prayer, intimacy with Christ, right intention, purity of heart, spirit of faith, presence of God, mortification of the external senses and the internal powers of the soul, faithfulness to grace and the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, the examen of conscience playing a major role. The second phase has no fixed rules or chartered course. It makes use of Father de Caussade's "sacrament of the present ;noment." It employs more frequently Father de Maumigny's "interior retreats." It consists essentially in a steady increase of faith, hope, and love of God and fellow-men, together with a growing docility to the Holy Spirit and use of His gifts. Perhaps the second stage can' be summdd up by Father Louis Lallemant in his Fourth Principle (chapter 2, article 1) : "The goal for which we should aim, after having for long time exercised ourselves in purity of heart, is to be so possessed and ruled by the Holy Spirit, that it is He alone who directs our p0wers,and our senses, and go.verns all our movements both interior and exterior, and that we abandon ourselves entirely by a spiritual renouncement of all our desires and personal gratifications. Thus we shall live no more in ourselves, but in 2esus Christ, by faithful cooperation with His divine Spirit, and by perfect subjection of all 'our rebelliousness to the power of His grace." The more this takes place, the closer we are coming to holiness and also to the mystical state, though the latter seems to be only for the very few. At this advanced level there is scarcely any difference between action and prayer, so much is action impregnated and permeated with prayer. The striving for this type of prayer amidst action is what St. Ignatius wanted in his followers. It is about this that Father Polanco wrote in behalf of Ignatius to Father Urban Fernandez, Rector of Coimbra, on June 1, 1551 : "As for prayer and meditation, except in a case of special necessity . our Father prefers that we t~y to find God in all things rather than devote much consecutive time to that exercise. He desires to see all the members of the Society animated with such a spirit that they do not find less devotion in works of charity and obedience than in prayer and meditation, since they ought to do nothing except for the love and service of Our Lord." This is the grand objective for which not only Jesuits But all religious and diocesan priests engaged in the active apostolate may and should strive~ and with God's grace ultimately achieve. 158 B ook/ eviews Four works by H. Pinard de la Boullaye, S.J.-- SAINT IGNACE DE LOYOLA, DIRECTEUR D'AMES. Pp. Ixxlx ,--1- 362. Aubier, I-=dltions Montaigne. LA SPIRITUALIT¢ IGNATIENNE: Textes. Choisls et pr&sent6s. Pp. I "-t- 4S7. Libralrle Plon, Paris. EXERCISES SPIRITUELS Selon la M6thode .de Saint Icjnace. Tome Pre-mier, Les Exercises, 7 ~:dltlon, revue et augment~e. Pp. xxvill ~ 314. Beauchesne ef Ses Fils, Paris, 1950. LES I~TAPES DE RI~DACTION DES EXERCISES DE S. IGNACE. 7 l'=-dltion, revue et corrig~e. Pp. viii -I- 76. Beauchesne et Ses Fils, Paris, 1950. After acquiring eminent distinction in such fields as comparative religion and religious experience and in giving the Lenten conferences at Notre-Dame, Paris, Fr. Pinard de la Boullaye has in recent years been devoting his great talents to writing on Ignatian spirituality. Among several volume~ on that general theme there are four to which we would call attention. Saint lgnace de Lo.qola, Directeur d'Ames opens with a long preface ~vhich presents the sources of Ignatian spirituality, its leading ideas, its general characteristics, and its value, and then an account of the writings of St. Ignatius and their character. The main body of the work consists of 314 pages of extracts, with notes and explana.- tions, from the original Sources. These excerpts are arranged according to different topics; for example, "the apostle of order and the greater glory of God," ". of self-control," ". of zeal," and so on. Thus in a moment one'could easily find in their authentic form St. Ig-natius's thoughts on many important points in the interior life. La Spiritualitd lqnatienne is similar in structure; and in content it is complementary. First a fairly lengthy preface gives a general description of Ignatian spiritual doctrine. Then in a systematic way the whole of the spiritual life, ascetical and mystical, is presented in selections, not so much this time from St. Ignatius himself, as from his 3esuit sons. This book therefore is an anthology, topically ar-ranged, of 3esuit spirituality. After a brief indication of a basic idea from the saint; various developments of it from 3esuit spiritual lit-erature are presented. Numerous notes and references could intro-duce one to further study of the same subject. A't the end of the book there is a very useful collection of brief biographical and biblio- 159 BOOK REVIEWS graphical notices of the Society's spiritual authors. Exercises Spiri(uels is the first of a four-volume set on St. Ig-natius's Exercises. It may be said that it is designed to explain them, whereas those that follow deoelop them in the form of retreats. However, it is not simply a commentary. It is proposed as "notes," and rather deals with what seem td be the essential ideas of St. Ig-natius, and the principal reasons why he chose such considerations and arranged them as he did. Thus, it is hoped, the right under-standing of the text will be facilitated. This book will no doubt 0 take a foremost place among writings on the Exercises.One special merit of it is a certain wholesome originality. ~ Les t~tapes de Rddaction is a small, but very interesting work on the evolution of the Exercises themselves. The process went on from 1521 to 1548, and in it six different stages or phases are distinguished and studied, If the author:s conclusions be correct, some old ad-mirers of the Exercises will be surprised to learn the dates at which certain of the more characteristic pieces appeared. --(3. AUG. F-LLARD, S.J. JEANNE JUGAN. By Mgr. Francis Trochu. Translated by Hugh Mont-gomery. Pp. xil -I- 288. Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 1950. $3.75. If there is one phenomenon in modern Catholic life from which no one can withhold the tribute of spontaneous admiration, it is the work of the Little Sisters of the Poor. It must have been a wonder-ful personality, one feels, that, under God, brought that body into being. Here is the story of that personality, so wonderful that even in the order she inspired and first "established--owing to the fact that it was "kidnapped" by a priest-director and: held captive incredibly long--she was not known by most of her fellow-religious as their founder. "Jeanne Jugan will be canonized some day, but there will be many.difficulties in the way, for we have no dstails about her life," said a priest of Jeanne, when all the.facts were still being cov-ered under conspiratorial silence. Truth can hide in strange places. In this instance it was the records of the French Academy (which had conferred the Montyon Prize on Jeanne before the "kidnapping"), and it was through that source that it came home to the Little Sisters, and the world, what a wonderful woman had called their work into existence. God is wonderful in Jeanne Jugan.--CIERALD ELLARD, S.J. 160 May, 1951 BOOK NOTICES THE TRUE STORY OF SAINT BERNADETTE. By Henri petitotl O.P. Translated by a Benedictine of Stanbrook Abbey. Pp. viii -I- 19S. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. $2.50. This book is not intended to be a complete biography of St. Ber-nadette. It is more in the line of an appreciation. It supposes that the reader already has a fair knowledge of the facts of Bernadette's life. What the autho~ tries to do is reproduce the spirit behind the facts of her life. The common reaction to a book with a~title like "the true story" of something or other is the suspicion that the author is setting about to correct some popular notions about his subject. Whether the popular concept of Bernadette contains some false notions, the author does not explicitly say. But he wants to be sure that the reader has two things straight by the time he finishes, the book. First of all, Bernadette was not an unintelligent girl. Her intelligence was above average, although her education was neglected until she entered the ,religious life. Secondly, she was not just an ordinary good religious (as her mother superior claimed). It is true that Bernadette was favored with special graces before her entrance into the religious life, But this is not the reason she is a saint. She developed the practice of heroic virtue in tile religious life, especially by the way she accepted suffering and humiliation. The author stresses the heroism that Bernadette manifested in a particular kind of suffering that was harder to bear than physical pain. Two of her superiors took on themselves the job of seeing that Bernadette stayed humble. Some of the other Sisters, taking their cue .from the superiors, took up the crusade to keep Bernadette humble. The uncharitableness that can be cloaked underneath such a crusading attitude is obvious. A fault into which the author seems to fall occasionally is to squeeze heroicity out of insignificant incidents. He has plenty of arguments for her heroism without exaggerating the significance of minor incidents.--JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. BOOK NOTICES On June seventeenth will be beatified the saintly MotherCouderc, Foundress of the Cenacle Sisters, who died in her eightieth year in 1885. If you wish to see why God so obviously blesses the Society "161 BOOK NOTICES ' Reuietu for Religious of the Retreat of Our Lady in the Cenacle in its very rapid diffusion in the United States and elsewhere, you will find in this biography, SURRENDER TO THE SPIRIT, that supernatural self-surrender to the Holy Ghost, who in the Cenacle came upon the infant C~aurch in Pentecostal tongues of fire. Mother Surles of the Boston Cenacle presents her heroic subject in an inspiring, but slightly "novelized" biography, in casting much of it in conversational form. Blessed ThOr}se Couderc should henceforth bare many friends among girls and women of all walks of life. (New York: Kenedy, 1951. Pp. xxi -b 243. $3.00.) OUR HAPPY LOT, written by Aurelio Espinosa Polit, S.J., and translated by William J. Young, S.J., is directed to all religious and priests. 'It presents various considerations intended to inculcate fer-vor and consolation in those consecrated to God. The unique gi.ft of vocation, its assurance ofsalvation, its call to intimacy with Christ, its sufferings and temptations, the'zeal which it postulates, the means of grace which it affords--all these topics are treated in a spirit of piety and elucidated ,by citations and explanations of Holy Scripture. The last fifty pages (pp. 195-245) are a summary, or recapitulation of the book. The various subjects are condensed into brief medi-tations. (St. Louis: B. Herder Co., 1951. Pp. xi + 245. $3.50.) CAN CHRIST HELP ME?, by C. C. Martindale, S.J., is addressed to the World at large and aims at bringing all 'men to. the knowledge and love of Christ. Nevertheless, the last three parts (pp'. 81-205), comprisifig almost two-thirds of the volume, furnish stimulating spiritual reading for religious and priests. This section develops the Ignatian retreat meditation called the Kingdom of Christ and from it the reader becomes enthusiastic not only for Christ's doctrine'or His past achievements, but e~pecially for the Person who can help me right now "as one living person helps another." This zest and love for Christ are developed by explaining the miracles, the parables, the sermons, the attitudes, the anecdotes: and the ordinary actions of Christ as these are portray.ed in the Gospels. Upon all of these Father Martindale throws new light and be does so in that simple, graphic style which belongs to a master of English prose. (West-minster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. 205. $2.25.) 162 Ma~l, 1951 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part. these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] AMI PRESS, Washington, New Jersey. Matins in a Leafy~ Wood. The Story of Mother M. Germaine. By Sister Mary Charitas, I.H.M. Pp. 124. $2.50. An inspiring life of an educator dedicated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
