Suchergebnisse

Program for the 4-state library conference titled "Libraries in Transition: Response to Change" held on October 11-14, 1967 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The conference gathered library professionals from Iowa, Illinois, Minnesota and Wisconsin. General session topics include "Changing Perspectives for Librarianship," "Legislation and Changing Library Needs," library staffing and staff training, and inter-library relationships.

El artículo se refiere al relato de la experiencia de vida de una persona con deficiencia visual, que después de vencer muchos obstáculos encuentra un camino que la conduce a la búsqueda de su razón de ser y de estar en el mundo.Se trata de un artículo dónde la autora realiza un análisis introspectivo, a partir de sus relaciones con un marco de referencia y de contexto cultural, legal y político, y contrastándolo con las diferentes etapas de su desarrollo intelectual, profesional, cultural y social.En este aspecto resulta interesante cómo se enfatiza en las diferentes posturas sociales, unas vinculadas a la amistad y la relación familiar, otras que constituyen barreras que condicionan la accesibilidad y participación social y que responden a la falta de educación, sensibilidad y conciencia, y por último otras más esperanzadoras, que en forma solidaria promueven un convivio más asentado en la concertación y en el pluralismo, en el amor al prójimo y en el reconocimiento de las diferencias que todos los seres humanos poseemos.Entre sus relatos y vivencias pedagógicas y culturales, se refiere a la ausencia de apoyo institucional y a la importancia de las relaciones de cooperación basadas en vínculos afectivos, las cuales le permiten alcanzar sus objetivos académicos. Actualmente, cursa el segundo año del Doctorado en Pedagogía. Doctorado Diversidad y Cambio en Educación: Políticas y Prácticas, de la Universidad de Barcelona. Resalta la incongruencia que se da en Costa Rica, en haber logrado estándares de primer orden en la formación académica de personas con discapacidad, expectativas que resultan insatisfechas en el campo laboral, con lo cual se produce una obstaculización de la devolución de la inversión social. The article is the account of a visually-impaired person's life experience, a person who after conquering many obstacles finds a path to its reason of being and existing in this world. This is a story in which the author makes a self-examining analysis that gauges her existence, from a cultural, legal and political context or frame of reference, opposable to its personal life in the different stages of its intellectual, professional, cultural and social development. In this aspect, it's interesting how the different social outlooks are highlighted; some are linked to friendship and the family relationships, and others that constitute barriers to social accessibility and participation, barriers that respond to the lack of education, sensibility and awareness. And finally, some other more auspicious circumstances that in a spirit of solidarity stimulate coexistence based on compromise and pluralism, in love towards one neighbor and in acknowledging the differences all human beings possess between themselves. In its pedagogic and cultural stories and life experiences, the author refers to the absence of institutional support and to the importance of the cooperation relationships based on affective bonds, which in turn have allowed the author reach its academic goals. Currently, the author is at the second year of its Doctorate Degree in Pedagogy, Diversity and Change in Education, Policies and Practices at the University of Barcelona. The article also highlights the contradictory situation in Costa Rica of having achieved first-order standards in the academic teaching of people with disabilities, to then have unfulfilled expectations when the alumni enter the working class. This problem hinders the reaping of the fruits that social investment on special education represented in the first place.

The purpose of this study was to determine the most important relative responsibilities of four selected schools in Western Kansas. An identification of the responsibilities for each of the participating schools was achieved through an analysis of a Relative Responsibility questionnaire. The questionnaire used consisted of sixty statements of desirable behavior of school students. The faculty and patrons of each school were requested to indicate the agency responsible for the achievement of each of the sixty statements. A review of the related material revealed that professional educators feel the school should be responsible for the development of : (1) a command of the fundamental processes, (2) appreciation of out American heritage, (3) vocational competency, (4) interest in the welfare of the public, (5) appreciation of family relationships, (6) civic responsibility and (7) aesthetic and artistic activities. An analysis of the Relative Responsibility questionnaire shoes the faculty and patrons believe the homes relative responsibilities should include: (1) development of skill in homemaking, (2) enjoying a sincere and varied social life, (3) maintaining democratic family relations, (4) proper use of leisure time, (5) development of skill in social behavior, (6) development of respect for the law and (7) selection of occupation. The relative responsibilities of the school, as determined by faculty-patron responses, include (1) development of a desire for learning, (2) providing activities for student participation in sports and other pastimes, (3) understanding the basic facts concerning health and disease, (4) providing aesthetic and artistic activities, (5) skill in listening and observing, (6) speaking the English language clearly, (7) understanding the merits of a free economic system, and (8) understanding the requirements and opportunities for various jobs, the extent to which generationals can be made upon the basis of this study are limited because the study did not encompass the total population. Therefore, predictions of relative responsibilities of schools in general cannot e made. Bearing this in mind the following generalizations were made. 1. The participant schools should emphasize those educational objectives which were indicated to be the responsibility of the school. 2. Less emphasis should be given to those educational objectives which were assigned to the home, e.g., skill in homemaking. 3. The occupation and education of respondents had a direct veering upon the member of educational objectives assigned to the school. 4. Studies in the area of responsibility are important in order to define the limits of a schools responsibility. 5. The establishment of responsibilities is important as all responsibilities must be recognized and vested in some agency. Otherwise the age old axiom, "what is everyone's responsibility is nobody's responsibility," may prevail.

Published interview of Brooks Hays in Nation's Cities (American Municipal Association) ; governments are two sources which can help the federal government evaluate basic constitutional relationships. These relationships must be dynamic and flexible, because, after all, the mobility of people and of wealth are like nothing we've ever had. Half the American people are living in another state from where they were born. They are continuously moving. Some large groups, like the 800,000 migrant workers, don't stay in one place long enough to be represented by any-one in any government. But the federal government has the biggest stake in improving intergovernmental relations-access to the largest resources places us at the faucet, so to speak. Has there been similar concern in previous administrations? Yes. It began many years ago and was formalized in 1955 with the Kestnbaum Commission which did a great deal of work investigating the effect of grants-in-aid on state and local governments. Later, Governor Pyle, who was on President Eisenhower's staff, assisted Mr. Kestnbaum in attempting to implement their recommendations. Your post is not exactly a new idea? No. Fred Dutton had similar responsibilities earlier, also under President Kennedy. Of course, since the Advisory Commission on Intergovernmental Relations was established in 1959, you almost require such a position on the President's staff, if only to be a bridge in intergovernmental relations. What does this Commission do? First of all, it is unique in that it is not a federal agency but rather a hybrid; it was established by Congress with the requirement that, of its 26 members, nine be federal, three public, seven state, and seven local. For example, the American Municipal Association, along with other public interest organizations, recommends the members representing local government. It is not like anything else in Washington in the federal government. Once created, it began to develop thoughtful recommendations for action in the field by all levels of government. I think the Commission has a bright future and has already matured rapidly. I hope that the states, cities, and counties will feel a sort of proprietary interest in its success. The Commission has sponsored legislation on a number of matters. Do you clear it? Not exactly. Frank Bane, the Commission's chairman, has a professional staff which works up legislative proposals for the Commission's approval. If the Commission chooses to sponsor a proposal, it certainly can go to Capitol Hill without White House endorsement. Of course, the Executive Branch members of the Commission, Secretaries Celebrezze and Dillon and Housing Administrator Weaver, have their own staff to analyze Commission recommendations before they make final decisions. How can municipal officials who have their own responsibilities benefit from the existence of your office? They benefit not by having someone with an antenna here, but rather in the whole functioning of the federal government on intergovernmental matters. Municipal needs are growing-any first-rate local official knows that personally-and they are going to be met substantially by intergovernmental cooperation as we improve the mechanisms of coordination and communication. Of course, if you mean that municipal officials already deal with a good many agencies in Washington, I agree. I don't want to enter into the normal workings of local, state, and federal officials which involve specific projects or proposals. They come up through the departments, the ordinary avenues, and, if the White House gets involved, say, to expedite a decision or to clarify policy, that would be handled by Ted Reardon, one of my colleagues on the White House staff. My office serves to emphasize the intergovernmental aspects of federal policies and programs. Since you have held this post, have you been able to identify some of the major problems to be faced if we are to progress in intergovernmental relations? The future direction of grants-in-aid remains to be solved. Allocation of tax resources is very important. The lack of adequate and equitable urban representation in state legislatures has complicated the intergovernmental picture. Channels of communication between levels of government are not all they should be. Has the Commission's work led to some improvement? Yes. One major advance is greater federal-state cooperation on planning. The President recently sent a memorandum to Cabinet members and heads of key independent agencies, asking them to notify state governments of federal plans for activities in their states before they take place so that states could expect something, and act accordingly, also expressing their views of these plans. Advance notice of the location of a large federal installation is one example. And the departments are following through; some have already prepared directives to their own people to make certain that this is implemented at all administrative levels. Most discussions on intergovernmental matters usually "Municipal needs are growing . . . and they are going to be met by intergovernmental cooperation . . . and communication" [quotation above photographs]

Considering the System theory the author conceives the Yugoslav enterprise to be an open system. Moreover critically taking into consideration all the various definitions for the purpose of operationalization he defines the environment as a communicative influential domain, integrating in this way the theory of the environment and of the organization. Accepting the phenomenological hypothesis and considering the actual influence as equaling the perceptional one — the influence has been investigated, with a help of some innovations, by means of the graph of control on the top management in 55 industrial organizations. The difference between the external and internal, passive and active influences has been distinguished. Internal influence is the one within and the external is the one outside the relevant enterprise; passive is the one to which the respondent is subjected by other members of the organization and active is the one which is exercised by the respondent on other members of the organization. According to the indexes got in this way the enterprises seem to be influenced by the examined factors of the environment to a larger extant than vice versa. The grouping of the bodies of the environment has shown the dominant status of the bank and the trade organizations in their relation to the industrial enterprises. Still that environment is not very much like the system that was typical of eighteenth century liberal capitalism although it might appear so. Considering the system of the country itself we seem to be speaking of the seemingly liberal environment with the state itself appearing indirectly through the banks. The results seem to be confirmed and even more differentiated by the factor analysis. Regarding the internal influence it should be pointed out that the influence of the top management on the organizational groups in the enterprises is almost equal to the amount of the influence exercised on the top management by the organizational groups. Generally, the internal organizational relationships of influence are more intensive and more balanced. We can assume that the social relations between the organizational groups within the enterprises are more socialized and more integrated than the relations between the enterprises and their environment. Top management in an enterprise has a marginal relation towards the political representatives, a central relation towards the professionals and self-managing bodies and a firm-hierarchical-superordination-and-superordination-relation towards managerial groups. The analysis of the correlations has shown that the active and passive external influences make up a united system of power — if viewed from the standpoint of the top management. That does not mean that the top management are exposed to the system of total control because there is also a united system of influence, which is exercised by the top management on the bodies outside the enterprise. In the same way the uncontrolled power does not appear either in the influence of the top management on the organizational groups within the enterprise. So we claim the existence of only two integrated subsystems of the active and passive influences. The increasing influence of the top management on the environment and the organizational groups leads to the reverse influence, that is, the increasing influence of the environment and organizational groups on the top management, exhibiting thus clearly the logic of the reciprocal influence. The author has found out a considerably different influence of the environment within the work organizations than he expected. He expected the influence of the administrative-political environment to lessen the internal active influence of the top management, and the influence of the business professional environment to increase the internal active and passive influences of the top management, and the influence of the trade organizations to increase the active internal influence of the top management. He has found out that the redistribution of power within the work organizations is not influenced by the administrative political environment, and that the influence of the top management within the enterprise is even diminished by the trade-organizations. Moreover, though in a system of external- -internal power-relations the self-managerial bodies and political organizations are not reduced to being merely marginal factors, the backbone of the whole system of the external-internal power-relations still makes the influence of the top management on the leading organizational groups and the influence of the business organizations on the enterprises. That means that the business circle from other enterprises exercises a considerable influence on the internal status of the top management within individual enterprises, and thus on the interactions between the other managerial groups as well. This circulus vitiosus of power is uncontrolled and spontaneous product of the division of labor at the macro-level of the whole society and also at the micro-level of the work-organizations because it makes possible an intensive reciprocal influence between the external and internal managerial groups. This proves the functional autonomization of the management which will be sustained spontaneously up the time when a functionally adequate, and not only politically adequate redistribution of managerial function will be varied out.

Article in Nation's Business (Chamber of Commerce of the United States) ; DECISIONS continued in conducting negotiations with the departments. Sometimes the Congress may begin these negotiations with a fiercely antagonistic attitude, as in the debate over the so-called status of forces treaties. Legislation was proposed in Congress designed to take away from the host country jurisdiction over the trials of U. S. military personnel charged with crimes committed on foreign soil. Only the patient and painstaking presentation by State Department representatives of the technical reasons against such bills dissipated the hostility growing out of incidents abroad. I remember this well. Some of our most complex decision-making procedures involve the State Department and Congress. Foreign policy is basically an executive function, but Congress has its definite functions growing out of the purse-string control and the confirmation of appointments. I assume that my appointment as assistant secretary of state for congressional relations in 1961 was based on President Kennedy's feeling that a former member would have access to congressional thinking. It worked out fairly well, I think. I knew the key committee chairmen well enough to deal in a highly informal way with them. When I served as a member of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, I often saw this interplay between branches of government in the efforts to develop a foreign aid program that would not only meet national security needs as seen by the President, but also win the support of Congress and of the people. Having the opportunity to observe this process from a different perspective as assistant secretary of state for congressional relations, I found that the same forces were at work and the same adjustments had to be made to meet the requirements of our system of government. When the President vetoes a bill, his own convictions normally are involved. But in many instances it is because a responsible official gave him a comprehensive briefing with a clear recommendation to withhold approval. Even veto decisions involve the interplay of the different levels and branches of government. Shortly after World War II ended, Senator J. W. Fulbright and I induced the Congress to pass a bill liberalizing sale of government lands to returning veterans from rural areas. I learned that the Department of Agriculture was about to recommend a veto of our bill. If this happened, it would be most awkward to attempt to get the President to overrule a cabinet member. So it was necessary for me to argue the case before the department chiefs. I convinced them that the legislation was sound. They withdrew their opposition and the President signed our bill. Incidentally, had the President received an adverse recommendation in this case his veto message would doubtless have been written in the department. I believe that good government administration and decision-making also profit by security of tenure for the professional civil servants. Ideally, enough shifts in top positions should occur periodically to bring freshness and popular responsiveness to bureau operations. I feel that, if private business leaders could see the Washington viewpoint and the complexities of federal operations, this would remove some of the adverse feelings about national government. I remember, for example, what an Arkansas businessman said to me one week after he had come to the capital to fill a major departmental position temporarily: "I hadn't been here 48 hours before I was convinced I would be lost without the help of the experts who had spent years in obscure and dedicated service back of the front office. These were the bureaucrats I had been damning." We suffer from mediocrity in spots, of course, but conditions improve as we dignify the public service through a more realistic salary scale and other devices to recruit able people. In relationships between the federal government and the states and localities, the party system serves to preserve the federal structure created under our Constitution. Because our parties are primarily state-based, rather than national, the members of Congress tend to support the interests of their states and localities and to resist federal encroachments. Thus, in the highest councils of Washington, the congressional leaders who take part in discussion are able to bring to the process of policy formulation the perspective of their home areas. Though the political acceptability of any action has to be a guiding principle of governmental decision-making, sometimes decisions must be made that are risky politics. The Administration's far-reaching trade act proposed in 1962 was based more on statesmanship than on politics. This historic act resulted in a greatly liberalized trade policy, which our leaders were sure was necessary for international political reasons as well as economics to deal better with the Common Market. However, the drastic reduction of potential tariff protection of domestic industries and the consequences for employment made this a highly controversial measure in an election year. But the long-term effects outweighed the short-term political risk in the minds of the decision-makers. Open decision-making All public officials are sensitive to the image they project through the media of public communication. It is for this reason that the press is often referred to as the fourth branch of government. Because of the open nature of our society, it is almost impossible for decisions to be made in secrecy. All participants in the decision-making process are well aware that what they are thinking and planning is likely to be made known to the people through radio, television, newspapers and magazines at all stages of policy formulation. By following what has sometimes been referred to as the law of anticipated reaction, the President and the Congress often reveal their dependence on the public media. This access to the public through news media should not be viewed as an emergency power. In the normal functioning of the federal government, it is good that information can be so widely distributed. "The President," said one of my colleagues, "should be a window rather than a mirror." To the extent that Washington decisions in high policy matters must rest upon public opinion, the responsible policy makers must respect vox populi. An insensitive Capitol guard failed to show that respect one day. A retired farmer had traveled a long way to see the structures his tax money had helped build. He drifted into a prohibited area of the Capitol and the guard shouted, "Get back there. Who do you think you are, anyway?" He got this rebuke, "Nobody, nobody much, just one of the owners." On all levels of government those who make decisions must remember they are serving the people and that, in the complexities of negotiated decision-making, politics-in the best public-interest sense of the word-must be the ruling force. END 66 NATION'S BUSINESS - JANUARY 1965

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

Issue 28.3 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellavd, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the cditor, the associate cditors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIOIOUS; 6~2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallcn, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 \ffiHings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania t9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by facuhy members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis Universiw, tbe 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 bimonttdy and copyright 1~) 1969 by REviEw v(m REt.mlncs at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00, Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and stlould be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REWEW :-'OR RELt(3IOt:S in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to pcrsons claiming to represent REVIEW YON RELIGIOUS, Change of address requests sbould include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should he sent to :-'oa RELmtOL'S; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, M aryla nd 21203. Changes of add ress, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by RELIGIOES ; d~213 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MarTland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIE\V FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 Nortb Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to tile address of the Questions and Answers editor. MAY 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 3 CONGREGATION FOR RELIGIOLIS Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation INTRODUCTION In its discussion of the question of renewal to the end that the Church might be enriched with a greater abun-dance of spiritual strength and be the better prepared to proclaim the message of saIvation to conterdporafy man, the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council devoted no small measure of attention also to those who pursue the divine gift of a religious vocation; and it set forth in a clearer light the nature, structure, and importance of their way of life.1 Concerning their place in the body of the Chul;ch the Council affirmed: "Although the re-ligious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs in-separably to her life and holiness." 2 Besides, "since it is the function of the hierarchy of the Church to nourish the people of God and lead them to the choicest p~tstures (cf. Ezek. 34, 14), it devolves on the same hierarchy to govern with wise legislation the practice of the evangelical counsels. For by that practice is uniquely fostered the perfection of love for God and neighbor. Submissively following the promptings of the Holy Spirit, the hierarchy also endorses rules formt~lated by eminent men and women, and authenticall~ ap-proves later modifications. Moreover, by its watchful and shielding authority, the hierarchy keeps close to com-munities established far and wide for the upbuilding of Christ's body, so that they can grow and flourish in ac-cord with the spirit of their founders." ~ x See the dogmatic constitution Lumen gentium, nn. 411 It.; ed. Abbott, pp. 73 lid and the decree Per[ectae caritatis, ed. Abbott, pp.o 4. 6L6umen gentium, n. 44; ed. Abbott, p. 75. " s Ibid., n. 45; ed. Abbott, p. 75. Religious Formation VOLUME;28, 1969. + ÷ ÷ Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS It is no less true that the generous vitality, and es-pecially the renewal of the spiritual, evangelical, and apostolic life which must animate the various institutes in the untiring pursuit of an ever greater charity is the responsibility chiefly of those who have received the mission, in the name of the Church and with the grace of the Lord, to govern these institutes, and at the same time of the generous collaboration of all their mem-bers. It is of the very nature of the religious life, just as it is of the very nature of the Church, to have that structure without which no society, not even a super-natural one, would be able to achieve its end or be in a position to provide the best means to attain it. Wherefore, having learned also from centuries of ex-perience, the Church was led gradually to the formula-tion of a body of canonical norms, which have con-tributed in no small degree to the solidity and vitality of religious life in the past. Everyone recognizes that the renewal and adaptation of different institutes as de-manded by actual circumstances cannot be implemented without a revision of the canonical prescriptions dealing with the structure and the means of a religious life. As "the suitable renewal of religious communities de-pends very largely on the training of their members," 4 several congregations both of men and of women, anx-ious to work out the renewal desired by the Council, have endeavored by serious inquiries and have often taken advantage of the preparation of the special gen-eral chapter prescribed by the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae (II, n. 3),5 in order to discover the best conditions for a suitable renewal of the various phases of the formation of their members to the religious life. Thus it was that a certain number of requests were formulated and transmitted to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes, especially through the Union of Superiors General. These requests were intended to secure a broadening of the canonical norms actually governing religious formation, in order to permit the various institutes, conformably to the in-structions of the decree Perfectae caritatis, nn. 3 ff.,6 to make a better adaptation of the entire formation cycle to the mentality of younger generations and modern living conditions, as also to the present demands of the apostolate, while remaining faithful to the nature and the special aim of each institute. It is evident that no new clear and definitive legisla-tion can be formulated except on the basis of experi-ments carried out on a sufficiently vast scale and over a ~ Perfectae caritatis, n. 18; ed. Abbott, p. 478. ~ Ecclesiae sanctae, II, part 1, n. 3. 6 Per[ectae caritatis, n. 3; ed. Abbott, p. 469. sufficiently long period of time to make it possible to arrive at an objective judgment based on facts. This is most true since the complexity of; gituations, their varia-tions according to localities and the_ rapidity;,:of ~the changes which affect them make it' impossible for those charged with the formation of the youth of today to an authentic religious life to determine a priori which solu-ti6fi~ Ifii~h~ b~°best." '" ~ T!fi~ is'why~ tlils~.Sacred Congregatioff fOf~Rbligious and for Secular Institutes, after careful examination of the proposals submitted regarding the different phases of religious formation, has deemed it opportune to broaden the canonical rules now in force in order to permit these necessary experiments. Nevertheless, al-though the juridical norms are being eased, it is im-portant that this not b~ to the detriment of those basic values which the prevailing legislation undertook to safe-guard. For "it must be seriously borne in mind that even the most desirable changes made on behalf of con-temporary needs will fail of their purpose unless a re-newal Of spirit gives life to them." ~ In order to be authentic, every revision of the means and the rules of the religious life presupposes at the same time a redefining of the values which are essential to the religious life, since the safeguarding of these values is the aim of these norms. For this reason and in order to permit a clearer understanding of the significance of the new rulings set forth in this present Instruction, the Sacred Congregation has deemed it useful to preface them with certain explanatory remarks. SOME GUIDELINES AND PRINCIPLES !--Not only the complexity of the situations alluded to previously, but also, especially, the growing diversity of institutes and of their activities makes it increasingly difficult to formulate any useful set of directives equally applicable to all institutes everywhere. Hence the much broader norms set forth in this Instruction give to in-dividual institutes the possibility of prudently choosing the solutions best suited to their needs. It is especially important, particularly with reference to formation and education, to remember that not even the best solutions can be absolutely identical both for institutes of men and those of women. Similarly, the framework and the means of formation must vary ac-cording as an institute is dedicated to contemplation or is committed to apostolic activities. ' Ibid., n. 2, e); ed. Abbott, p. 469. 4" 4" + Religious Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2--Questi0ns raised by the faculty granted in this iptr oespepnotr. tIunnsetr, utcot~io_n~.r teop ~theo~speo i~nasrti.ytu~t_es_ ow~h.sic=hw, lmthi-~hlt~ dereem kin,,q.~9_~nt, emphasize the necessity of recalling here the nature iind the proper value of religious profes-sion. Such profession, whereby the members "either by vows or by other sacred bonds which are like vows in their purpose," 8 ~in-'d~"~s ~e~e ~Tzg~ who alone is worthy of.such a sweeping gift on the part of a human person. It is more in keeping with the nature of such a gift to find its culmination and its most eloquent expression in perpetual profession, whether simple or solemn. In fact, "this consecration will be all the more perfect according as through firmer and more solid bonds there will be reflected the image of Christ united with the Church His Spouse through an un-breakable bond." o Thus it is that religious profession is an act of religion and a special consecration whereby a person dedicates himself to God. Not only according to the teaching of the Church but likewise by the very nature of this consecration, the vow of obedience, whereby a religious consummates the com-plete renunciation of himself and, along with the vows of religious chastity and poverty, offers to God as it were a perfect sacrifice, belongs to the essence of religious profession,x0 Thus consecrated to Christ, the religious is at ttie same time bound to the service of the Church and, according to his vocation, is led to the realization of the perfection of that apostolic charity which must animate and impel him, whether in a life entirely given over ~o contempla-tion or in different apostolic activities. This notwith-standing, it is important to note that, even though in institutes dedicated to the apostolate "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and serv-ices," ix this apostolic activity is not the primary aim of religious profession. Besides, the same apostolic works could be carried out quite as well without the consecra-tion deriving from the religious state although, for one who has taken on its obligations, this religious consecra-tion can and must contribute to greater dedication to the apostolate. Hence, although it is in order to renew religious life in its means and its forms of expression, it cannot be asserted that the very nature of religious profession must be changed or that there should be a lessening of the Lumen gentium, n. 44; ed. Abbott,.p. 74. Ibid., n. 44; ed. Abbott, p. 74. lo Perlectae caritatis, n. 14; ed. Abbott, p. 477. ~ Ibid., n. 8; ed. Abbott, p. 477. demands proper to it. The youth of today who are called by God to the religious state are not less desirous than before; rather they ardently desire to live up to this vocation in all its requirements, provided these be cer-tain and authentic. 3--Nevertheless, in addition to the religious vocation strictly and properly so called, the Holy Spirit does not cease to stir up in the Church, especially in these latter times, numerous institutes whose members, whether bound or not by sacred commitments, undertake to live in common and to practice the evangelical counsels in order to devote themselves to various apostolic or chari-table activities. The Church has sanctioned the authentic nature of these different modes of life and has approved them. Still, these modes do not constitute the religious state even though, up to a certain point, they have often been likened to religious life in canonical legislation. Therefore, the norms and directives contained in this present Instruction deal directly with religious institutes in the strict sense. Other institutes, however, if they so wish, are free to follow them in the proper organization of their formation program and in whatever is best suited to the nature of their activities. 4~The faculties granted to religious institutes by this present Instruction have been suggested by a certain number of considerations based on experience which it is in order to explain briefly here. It would appear that in our day and age genuin~ religious formation should proceed more by stages and be extended over a longer period of time since it must embrace both the time of the novitiate and the years following upon the first temporary commitment. In this formation cycle the novitiate must retain its irreplace-able and privileged role as the first initiation into re-ligious life. This goal cannot be attained unless the future novice possesses a minimum of human and spiritual preparation which must not only be tested but,, very often, also completed. In fact, for each candidate the nov_i_t~te_ should come at the moment ,~hen, aware of G'b'td s call, h-~h~ reached that a~gree o'-o'-6~h~man and spiritua! maturity which will allow him to decide to respond to this call with sufficient and proper responsibility and freedom. No one should enter religiou~ life without this choice being freely made and without the separation from men and things which this entails being accepted. Nevertheless, this first decision does not necessarily demand that the candidate be then able to measure up immediately to all the demands of the religious and apostolic life of the institute; but he must be judged capable of reaching this goal by stages. Most of the difficulties encountered ÷ + ÷ Religious Formation VOLUME 28,. 1969 859 ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today in the formation of novices are usually due to the fact that when they were admitted they did not have th.e required maturity. Thus, preparation for entrance into the novitiate proves to be increasingly necessary as the world becomes less Christian in outlook. In most cases, in fact, a gradual spiritual and psychological adjustment appears to be in-dispensable in order to prepare the way for certain breaks, with one's social milieu and even worldly habits. Young people today who are attracted by the religious life are not looking for an easy life; indeed, their thirst for the. absolute is consuming. But their life of faith is Oftentimes based on merely elementary knowledge of doctrine, in sharp contrast to the development of their knowledge of profane subjects. Hence it follows that all institutes, even those whose formation cycle includes no postulancy, must attach great importance to this preparation for the novitiate. In institutes having minor seminaries, seminaries, or go!leges, candidates for tlie religious life usually go di-rectly to the novitiate. It will be worthwhile to recon-sider if this policy should be maintained, or if it is not more advisable, in order to assure better preparation for a.fully responsible choice of the religious life, to prepare for the novitiate by a fitting period of probation in order to develop the human and emotional maturity of the candidate. Moreover, while it must be recognized t.hat problems vary according to countries, it must be aiTarmed that-the age required for admission to the novitiate should be higher than heretofore. 5--As regards the formation to be imparted in the novitiate in institutes dedicated to the works of the ~postolate, it is evident that greater attention should be paid to preparing the novices, in the very beginning and more directly, for the type of life or the activities which will be theirs in the future, and to teaching them how to realize in their lives in progressive stages that co- .'.hesive unity whereby contemplation and apostolic ac- ~ti;~ity are closely linked together, a unity which is one of th~'"ra~st ftifl'daiiie'n't~l~'and primary values of these same societies. The achievement of this uriity requires proper understanding of the realities of the super-nattiral life and of the paths leading to a deepening of union with God in the unity of one same supernatural love for God and for men, finding expression at times in the solitude of intimate communing with the Lord and at others in the generous giving of self to apostolic activity. Young religious must be taught that this unity so eagerly sought and toward which all life tends in order to find its full development cannot be attained on the level of activity alone, or even be psychologically experienced, for it resides in that divine love which is the bond of perfection and which surpasses all under-standing. The attainment of this unity, which cannot be achieved without long training in self-denial or without persevering efforts toward purity of intention in action, demands in those institutes faithful compliance with the basic law of all spiritual life, which consists in arranging a proper balance of periods set aside for solitude with God and of others devoted to various activities and to the human contacts which these involve. Consequently, in order that novices, while acquiring experience in certain activities proper to their insti-tute, may discover the importance of this law-and make it habitual, it has seemed advisable to grant to those institutes which might regard it as opportune the faculty of introducing into the novitiate formative activity and experimental periods in keeping with their activities and their type of life. It must be emphasized that this formative activity, which complements novitiate teaching, is not intended to provide the novices with the technical or professional training required for certain apostolic activities, train-ing which will be afforded to them later on, but rather to help them, in the very mids~ of these activities, to better discover the exigencies of their vocation as re-ligious and how to remain faithful to them. In fact, confronted with the diversity of apostolic ac-tivities available to them, let religious not forget that, differently from secular institutes, whose specific activity is carried out with the means of the world or in the performance o1~ temporal tasks, religious must, above all, according to the teaching of the Council, be in a special manner witnesses to Christ within the Church: "Re-ligious should carefully consider that, through them, to believers and non-believers alike, the Church truly wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ. Through them Christ should be shown con-templating on the mountain, announcing God's king-dom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, do-ing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent Him." 12 There is a diversity of gifts. Wherefore, each one must s~ia'd~"~-n in the vocation to which he has been called, since the mission of those called to th~ rdli~iotis~t~te~i~a the Church is one thing; the mission of secular insti-tutes is another thing; the temporal and apostolic mis-sion of the laity not especially consecrated to God in an institute, is quite another. Lumen gentium, n. 46; ed. Abbott, p. 77. ÷ Religious Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 36! Religious For~nation REVIEW FO~ RELI~IOOS 362 It is in line with this perspective on his vocation that whoever is called by God to the religious state must understand the meaning of the in the novitiate. Therefore, the nature and these periods, as well as the them into the novitiate, will formation which is begun the educational value of timeliness of introducing be evaluated differently in. congregations of men or of women, in institutes dedicated to contemplation or to apostolic activities. Indeed, the effectiveness of this formation, while it is imparted in an atmosphere of greater freedom and flexibility, will also depend largely on the firmness and the wisdom of the guidance afforded by the novice master and by all those who share in th~ formation of young religious after the novitiate. It is extremely im-portant also to recall the importance of the role played in such formation by the atmosphere of generosity pro-vided by a fervent and united community, in the midst of which young religious will be enabled to learn by experience the value of mutual fraternal assistance as an element of readier progress and perseverance in their vocation. 6--In order then to respond to this same need of gra'dual formation the question has arisen concerning the"extension of the period prior to perpetual profes-sion in which a candidate is bound by temporary vows or by some other form of commitment. It is proper that when he pronounces his perpetual vows, the religious should have reached the degree of spiritual maturity required in order that the religious state to which he is committing himself in stable and certain fashion may really be for him a means of perfec-tion and greater love rather than a burden (oo heavy to cai'ry. Nevertheless, in certain cases the extension of temporary probation can be an aid to this maturity, while in others it can involve drawbacks which it ~vill not be out bf place to point out. The fact of remaining for too long a time in a state of uncertainty is not always a contribution to maturity, and this situation may in some cases encourage a tendency to instability. It should be added that in the case of non-admission to per-petual profession, the return to lay life will often entail problems of readjustment, which will be all the more serious and trying according as the time spent l~.~-oml:I~ has been longer. Superiors, conse-quently, must be aware of their grave responsibilities in this field and should not put off until the last minute a decision which could and should have been taken earlier. 7--No institute should decide to use the faculty granted by this Instruction to replace temporary vows by some other form of commitment without having clearly considered and weighed the reasons for and the nature of this commitment. For him who has heeded the call of Jesus to leave everything to follow Him there dan be no question of how important it is to respond generously and whole-heartedly to this call from the very outset of his religious life; the making of temporary vows is completely in harmony with this requirement. For, while still retaining its ~y~t~c- t~h a t~it~is~, tem op_~.~y, the profession of first vows make~--the young religious share in the consecration proper to the religious state. Yet, perpet.u~.l vows can be prepared for without making te@orary ~rows. In fact, more frequently now than in the past, a certain number of young candidates come to the end of their novitiate without having ac-quired the religious maturity sufficient to bind them-selves immediately by religious vows, although no pru-dent doubt can be raised regarding their generosity or their authentic vocation to the religious state. This hesi-tancy in pronouncing vows is frequently accompanied by a great awareness of the exigencies and the importance of the perpetual religious profession to which they aspire and wish to prepare themselves. Thus it has seemed desirable in a certain number of institutes that at the end of their novitiate the novices should be able to bind themselves by a ~ different from vows, yet answering their twofold desire to give them-selves to God and the institute and to pledge themselves to a fuller preparation for perpetual profession. Whatever form such a ~tempora .x'~y~fi~ may take, fidelity to a genuine religious vocation demands that it should in some way be based on the require-ments of the three evangelical counsels and should thus be already entirely orientated toward the one per-petual profession, for which it must be, as it were, an apprenticeship and a preparation. 8~He who commits himself to walk in the path of the Savior in the religious life, must bear in mind our Lord's own words that "no one, having put his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God" (Lk 9:62). Just the same, the psychological and emotional difficulties encountered by some individuals in their progressive adaptation to the religious life are not always resolved upon the termination of the novi-tiate, and at the same time there is no doubt that their vocation can be authentic. In many cases, the permis-sion for absence provided for by canon law will allow superiors to make it possible for these religious to spend some time outside a house of the institute in order to be the better able to resolve their problems. But in some more difficult cases, this solution will be inadequate. ÷ 4. Religious Formation VOLUME' 28o 1969 ¯ 363 Superiors can then persuade such candidates to return to lay life, using if necessary, the faculty granted in Number 38 of this Instruction. 9--Lastly, a religious formation more based on stages and judiciously extended over the different periods of the life of a young religious should find its culmination in a serious preparation for perpetual vows. It is in fact desirable that this unique and essential act whereby a religious.ds cons_ecrated to~.,.God~forever.,,.s_houl.d~be~pr~e_~;, ceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation, spent in retreat and prayer, a preparation which could be like a second novitiate. II ÷ ÷ Religious Formatim~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SPECIAL NORMS The Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes, in its desire to promote necessary and useful experiments in view of the adaptation and renewal of religious formation, having examined these questions in its plenary meetings of June 25-26, 1968, by virtue of a special mandate from the Sovereign Pontiff, Pope Paul VI, has seen fit, by this Instruction, to formulate and to publish the following norms: 10--I. Religious formation comprises two essential phases: the novi~t4ate and the~probationary period which follows the novitiate and lasts for a period adapted to the nature of the institute, during which the members are bound by vows or other commitments. II. A.*.ibreliminar.y-~period~,;of varying duration, obliga-tory in certain institutes under the name of postulancy, usually precedes admission to the novitiate. l l--I, This preliminary probation has as its purpose not merely to formulate a tentative judgment on the aptitudes and vocation of the candidate, but also to verify the extent of his knowledge of religious subjects and, where need be, to complete it in the degree judged necessary and, lastly, to permit a gradual transition from lay life to the life proper to the novitiate. II. During this probationary period it is particularly necessary to secure assurance that the candidate for religious life be endowed with such elements of human and emotional maturity as will afford grounds for hope that he is capable of undertaking properly the obliga-tions of the religious state and that, in the religious life and especially in the novitiate, he will be able to pro-gress toward fuller maturity. III. If in certain more difficult cases, the superior feels, with the free agreement of the subject, that he should have recourse to the services of a prudent and qualified psychologist known for his moral principles, it is de- sirable, in order that this examination may be fully ef-fective, that it should take place after an extended period of probation, so as to enable the specialist to formulate a diagnosis based on experience. 12--I. In institutes where a postulancy is obligatory, whether by common law or in virtue of the constitu-tions, the general chapter may follow the norms of this present Instruction for a be'tter adaptation of the period of postulancy to the requirements of a more fruitful preparation for the novitiate. II. In other instututes it belongs to the general chapter to determine the nature and the length of this prelimi-nary probation, which can vary according to candi-dates. Nevertheless, if it is to be genuinely effective, this period should neither be too brief nor, as a general rule, be extended beyond two years. III. It is preferable that this probation should not take place in the novitiate house. It could even be helpful that, either in whole or in part, it be organized outside a house of the institute. IV. During thi~ preliminary probation, even if it takes place outside a house of the institute, the candidates will be placed under the direction of qualified religious and there should be sufficient collaboration between these latter and the novice master, with a view to assuring continuity of formation. 13--I. Religious life begins with the novitiate. What-ever may be the special aim of the institute, the prin-cipal purpose of the novitiate is to initiate the novice into the essential and primary requirements of the reli-gious life anti also, in view of a greater charity, to imple-ment the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience of which he will later make profession, "either through vows or other sacred bonds which are like vows in their purpose." 18 II. In those institutes where "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and services," 14 the novices are to be gradually trained to dedicate them-selves to activities in keeping with the purpose of their institute, while developing that intimate union with Christ whence all their apostolic activity must flow.15 14--Superiors responsible for the admission of can-didates to the novitiate will take care to accept only those giving proof of the aptitudes and elements of ma-turity regarded as necessary for commitment to the re-ligious life as lived in the institute. 15--I. In order to be valid, the novitiate must be made in the house legitimately designated for this purpose. Lumen gentium, n. 44; ed. Abbott, p. 75. Perfectae caritatis, n. 8; ed. Abbott, p. 472. Ibid. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Formation VOLUME 28~ 1969 865 Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 566 II. It should be made in the community or group of novices, fraternally united under the direction of the novice master. The program as well as the nature of the activities and work of the novitiate must be organized in such a way as to contribute to novice formation. III. This formation, conformably to the teachings of our Lord in the gospel and the demands of the particular aim and spirituality of the institute, consists mainly in initiating the novices gradually into detachment from everything not connected with the kingdom of God, the practice of obedience, poverty, prayer, habitual union with God in availability to the Holy Spirit, in order to help one another spirtually in frank and open charity. IV. The novitiate will also include study and medita-tion on Holy Scripture, the doctrinal and spiritual for-mation indispensable for the development of a super-natural life of union with God and an understanding of the religious state, and, lastly, an initiation to litur-gical life and the spirtuality proper to the institute. 16--I. The erection of a novitiate does not require the authorization of the Holy See. It belongs to the superior general, with the consent of his council and conformably to the norms laid down in the constitutions, to erect or to authorize tbe erection of a novitiate, to determine the special details of the program, and to de-cide on its location in a given house of the institute. II. If necessary, in order to make more effective pro-vision for the formation of the novices, the superior general may authorize the transfer of tbe novitiate com-munity during certain periods to another residence des-ignated by himself. 17--In case of necessity, the superior general, with the consent of his council and after consultation with the interested provincial, may authorize the erection of several novitiates within the same province. 18--In view of the very i~nportant role of community life in the formation of the novices, and when the small number of the novices would prevent the creation of con-ditions favorable to genuine community life, the superior general should, if possible, organize the novitiate in an-other community of the institute able to assist in the for- .mation of this small group of novices. 19--In special cases and by way of exception, the superior general, with the consent of his council, is em-pqwered to allow a candidate to make his novitiate validly in some house of the institute other than the novitiate, under the responsibility of an experienced reli-gious acting as novice master. 20--For a reason which he regards as just, the major superior may allow first profession to be made outside the novitiate house. 21--In order to be valid, the novitiate as described above must last twelve months. 22--I. Absences from the novitiate group and house which, either at intervals or continuously, exceed three months render the novitiate invalid. II. As for absences lasting less than three months, it pertains to the major superiors, after consultation with the novice master, to decide in each individual case, taking into account the reasons for the absence, whether this absence should be made up by demanding an ex-tension of the novitiate, and to determine the length of the eventual prolongation. The constitutions of the insti-tute may also provide directives on this point. 23--I. The general chapter, "by at least a two-thirds majority, may decide, on an experimental basis, to inte-grate into novitiate formation one or several periods in-volving activities in line with the character of the in-stitute and away from the novitiate, in the degree in which, in the judgment of the novice master and with the consent of the major superior, such an experiment would seem to be a useful contribution to formation. II. These formation stages may be used for one or sev-eral novices or for the novitiate community as a whole. Wherever possible, it would be. preferable that the novices take part in these stages in groups of two or more. III. During these stages away from the novitiate com-" munity, the novices remain under the responsibility of the novice master. 24---1. The total length of the periods spent by a novice outside the novitiate will be added to the twelve months of presence required by Article 21 for the validity of the novitiate, but in such a way that the total duration of the novitiate thus expanded does not exceed two years. II. These formative apostolic periods may not begin until after a miniinum of three months in the novitiate and will be distributed in such a way that the novice will spend at least six continuous months in the novitiate and return to the novitiate for at least one month prior to first vows or temporary commitment. III. In cases where superiors would deem it useful for a future novice to have a period of experience before beginning the three months of presence required at the start of the novitiate, this period could be regarded as a probation period and only after its completion would the novitiate begin. 25--I. The nature of experimental periods outside the novitiate can vary according to the aims of various institutes and the nature of their activities. Still, they must always be planned and carried out in view of forming the novice or, in certain cases, te.sting his apti-tude for the life of the institute. Besides gradual prepara-÷ ÷ Religiotts Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 "" " 367 ÷ ÷ Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 368 tion for apostolic activities, they can also have as their purpose to bring the novice into contact with certain concrete aspects of poverty or of labor, to contribute to character formation, a better knowledge of human na-ture, the strengthening of the will, the development of personal responsibility, and, lastly, to provide occasions for effort at union with God in the context of the active life. II. This balancing of periods of activity and periods of retreat consecrated to prayer, meditation, or study, which will characterize the formation of. the novices, should stimulate them to remain faithful to it throughout the whole of their religious life. It would also be well for such periods of retreat to be regularly planned during the years of formation preceding perpetual profession. 26--The major superior may, for a just cause, allow first profession to be anticipated, but not beyond fifteen days. 27--In institutes having different novitiates for dif-ferent categories of religious, and unless the constitutions stipulate otherwise, the novitiate made for one category is valid likewise for the other. It belongs to the con-stitutions to determine eventual conditions regulating this passage from one novitiate to the other. 28--The special nature and aim of the novitiate, as a/so the close bonds which should be found among the novices, really demand a certain separation of the novice g~oup from the other members of the institute. Never-theless the novices may, according to the judgment of the novice master, have contacts with other communities or religious. Hence it will be the task of the general chapter, taking into consideration the spirit of the insti- ¯ tute and the demands of special circumstances, to decide what kind of contacts the novices may have with the other members of the institute. 29--I. The general chapter may permit or even im-pose during the regular novitiate year certain studies which may be useful for the formation of the novices. Doctrinal studies must be put at the service of a loving knowledge of God and a deepening of the life of faith. II. Excluded from the novitiate year described in Number 21 are all formal study programs, even of the-ology or philosophy, as also studies directed toward the obtaining of diplomas or in view of professional training. 30-~All tasks and work entrusted to novices will be tinder the responsibility and direction of the novice mas-ter, who nevertheless may seek the aid of competent persons. The chief aim of these various tasks must be the formation of the novices, not the interests of the congregation. 31~-I. In the direction-of the novices, particularly during the periods of formative activity, the novice master will base his direction on the teaching so clearly enunciated by the Second Vatican Council: "Therefore, in order that members may above all respond to their vocation of following Christ and may serve Christ Himself in His members, their apostolic activity should result from their intimate union with Him." 16 "To this end, let the members of all institutes, seeking above all only God, unite contemplation, whereby they are united with Him in mind and heart, with apostolic love, whereby they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the kingdom of God." 17 II. With this in mind he should teach the novices (1) to seek in all things, as well in apostolic activities or the service of men as in the times consecrated to silent prayer or study, purity of intention and the unity of charity toward God and toward men; (2) when the apostolic activities of their institute lead them to become involved in human affairs, to learn how to use this world "as though not.usingjtl) ,, ~.~ ,~ . (3) to understand the limitati~"iSf ~l~i~'~'~i~,fi::fictivity without being discouraged and to work at the ordering of thei.r,.ow~,life, bearing in mind that no one can give l~ims~i~'ati~){d~ically to God and his brethren without first getting possession of himself in humility; (4) to bring about in their lives, along with a will which is firm and rich in initiative, and conformably to the demands of a vocation to an institute dedicated to the apostolate, the indispensable balance on both the hu-man and the supernatural level between times conse-crated to the apostolate and the service of men and more or less lengthy periods, in solitude or in .community, devoted to prayer and meditative reading of the Word of God; (5) in fidelity to this program which is essential to every consecrated life, to ground their hearts'~'gr~dually.:,.in. union with God and that peace which comes from doing ~li'g i~#ii~fi will, whose demands they will have learned to discover in the duties of their state and in tne~'prompt~- ings of justice and charity. 32--I. Unity of heart and mind must reign between superiors, the novice master, and the novices. This union, which is the fruit of genuine charity, is necessary for religious formation. II. Superiors and the novice master must always show toward the novices evangelical ~simplicity, kindness coupled w~tb~"gentleness, and respect for their person-ality, in order to build up a climate of confidence, docil-ity, and openness in which the novice master will be able Per[ectae caritatis, n. 8; ed. Abbott, p. 472. Ibid., n. 5; ed. Abbott, p. 470 + + 4. ltetiglous Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 369 )Reiigious Formation REVIEW FOR RElIGiOUS to orientate their generosity toward a complete gift of thdmselves to the Lord in faith and gradually lead them by word and example to learn in the mystery of Christ crucified the exigencies of authentic religious obedience. Thus, let the novice master teach his novices "to bring an active and responsible obedience to the offices they shoulder and the activities they under-take." is 33--As for the habit of the novices and other candi-dates to the religious life, the decision rests with the general chapter. 34--I. The general chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may decide to replace temporary vows in the institute with some other kind of commitment as, for example, a promise made to the institute. r II. This commitment will be made at the end of the novitiate and for the duration of the probationary period extending to perpetual profession or to the sacred com-mitments which are its equivalent in certain institutes.19 LThis ~,~.tm~nt may also be made for a briefer period and be renewed at stated intervals, or even be followed by the making of temporary vows. ¯ 35--I. It is altogether proper that this should have reference to the practice of the three evan-gelical couns61s, in order to constitute a genuine prepara-tion for perpetual profession. It is of the utmost impor-tanc~ to safeguard unity of religious formation. Although the practice of this life is realized definitively at per-petu~ l profession, it must begin quite a long time before this profession. II. Since, therefore, the one perpetual profession as-sumes its full significance, it is fitting that it should be preceded by a period of immediate preparation lasting for a certain length of time and serving as a kind of ~. The duration and details will be deter- ~ b~ the general chapter. 36--Whatever may be the nature of this ~, its effect will be to bind whoever makes it to his congregation or his institute and it will entail the obligation of observing the rule, constitutions and other regulations of the institute. The general chapter will determine otiaer aspects and consequences of this com-mitment. 37--I. The general chapter, after careful consideration of all the circumstances, shall decide on the length of the period of ~s or ¢~ which is to extend from the end of the novitiate until the making of perpetual vows. This period shall last for no less than Ibid., n. 14; ed. Abbott, p. 477. See n. 3 of the present Instruction. three years and no more than nine, counting the time continuously. II. The prescription still stands that perpetual profes-sion must be made before the reception o[ holy orders. 88--I. When a member has left his institute legiti-mately, either at the expiration o[ his ~e.s- ~l~latt_~ommi~m,e~at or after dispensation from these ob-ligations, and later requests re-admission, the superior general, with the consent of his council, may grant this re-admission without the obligation of prescribing the repetition of the novitiate. II. The superior general must, nonetheless, impose on him a certain period of probation, upon the completion of which the candidate may be admitted to temporary vows or commitment for a period of no less than one year, or no less than the period of temporary probation which he would have had to complete before per-petual profession at the time he left the institute. The superior may also demand a longe~ period of trial. III APPLICATION OF THE SPECIAL NORMS In the implementation of these present decisions the following directives shall be observed: I. The prescriptions of common law remain in force except in so far as this present Instruction may derogate therefrom. II. The faculties granted by this Instruction may not in any way be delegated. III. The term "superior general" also includes the abbot president of a monastic congregation. IV. In case the superior general is incapacitated or legitimately impeded from acting, these same faculties are granted to the one who is legitimately designated by the constitutions to replace him. V. In the case of nuns dedicated exclusively to con-templative life, special regulations shall be inserted into the constitutions and submitted for approval. Neverthe-less, the norms indicated in Numbers 22, 26, and 27 may be applied to them. VI. 1. If the special general chapter prescribed by the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae has already been held, it will belong to the superior general and his council, acting as a body, after due consideration of all the cir-cumstances, to decide if it is advisable to convoke a general chapter to decide the questions reserved to it or to await the next ordinary general chapter. 2. Should the superior general with his council, as above, deem it too difficult or even impossible to con-voke a new general chapter and if, at the same time, the ,Religious Formation VoLOME ~'28, "1969 371 implementation of the faculties reserved to the decision of the chapter is regarded as urgent for the welfare of the institute, the superior general and his council, as before, are hereby authorized to implement some or all of these faculties until the next general chapter, pro-vided that he,previously consult the other major supe-riors wxth their councils and obtain the consent~oL, at least two-thirds of their number. The major superiors m turn should make it a point to first consult their per-petually professed religious. In institutes having no provinces, the superior general must consult the per-petually professed and obtain the consent of two-thirds. VII. These directives, issued on an experimental basis, take effect as of the date of the promulgation of the present Instruction. Rome, January 6, on the Feast of the Epiphany of our Lord, in the year 1969. I. CARD ANTONIUTTI Prefect ~ ANTONIO MAURO Tit. Archbishop of Tagaste Secretary ÷ + + Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIO0$ EDWARD L. HESTON, C.S.C. Temporary Vows and Promises AS period of temporary vows in preparation for per-petual profession has become so much a part of our for-mation structures in contemporary religious life that the casual observer could easily be led to believe that such temporary vows have always been required and that they constitute one of the really essential elements of re-ligious life. Yet, temporary vows are of comparatively recent origin in canonical legislation. In fact, the first universally binding imposition of temporary vows was formulated in the Code of Canon Law promulgated in 1917. Almost every religious congregation still has among its members a certain number who went from the novi-tiate directly into perpetual profession. The prescription of temporary vows was dictated by prudence and long experience. Because of the evidently far-reaching consequences of perpetual profession it no longer seemed advisable for a candidate to make such profession without an opportunity to live the religious life in circumstances more realistic than those provided by the background of a strict novitiate program. With this dictate of prudence there could be no quarrel in principle. There was none for many decades. Even when questions arose in the wake of all the discussions opened up in the postconciliar atmosphere, the point at issue was not the probationary period itself but rather the concrete framework around which it would be built. These discussions eventually raised the question whether a period of living under temporary public re-ligious vows was the only or, even tbe best, wayZtoT.f)re- ,pare ~ov~perpetua~ profession. ~ome ot tlaese ~ou~ts have stemmed from psycliolog~cal problems ~n the minds of contemporary candidates for the religious life. Many # This article was originally prepared for La vie des commu-nautds religieuses and is reprinted here in its English form by the kind permission of the editor of La vie. + + ÷ Edward L. Hes-ton, C.S.C., procu-rator general of the Holy Cross Fathers, lives at Via Aure-lia 391; 00165 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 28, 1969 instinctively, and rightly, think of vow as synonymous with commitment, a consecration to God. No such com-mitment or consecration, they, reason, can be anything else than complete and permanent. Hence, the concept of a temporary vow really involves some kind of contra- ~%d.Tihcis tsuvicioeciwnncptolyi.n btyw thaes expressed sister who declared that being restricted to making vows for only one year when she really wanted to give herself to God forever meant that she could neither say what she meant nor mean what she said. It m~ght seem relatively easy to attempt to solve the difficulty by recourse to the traditional theological explanation that, as far as the commitment itself is con-cerned, the profession of temporary vows is as all-em-bracing and as lasting as that involved in perpetual pro-fession. The only difference is in the duration. Tempo-rary profession, one could point out, is so closely con-nected with perpetual profession that no candidate can be admitted to temporary vows without the intention of eventually proceeding to perpetual profession when the proper time comes. One could point out that the only difference between temporary profession and perpetual profession is that the commitment is essentially the same but that, in order to safeguard the best interests of both the candidate and the institute, canon law suspends some of the juridical effects of this profession before allowing it to become perpetually binding. But, well grounded as it is in sound theological and juridical principles, this explanation has not always clarified the matter in the minds of the interested parties. There is the further consideration that, as can be seen in many cases arising out of practical experience, it hap-pens not infrequently that young men and women come to the end of their novitiate formation and still do not feeL.either spiritually or psychologically "up" to the comniitinent involved in making vows, even-tempora~ ~O~as.~ Since, at the same time they gi~ encouraging signs of an authentic religious vocation, the question has been raised whether they cannot be given an opportunity to remain in the religious life without binding them-selves by vows in the strict sense of the term; and this situation has given to the problem a certain concrete actuality. A further consideration is that the increasing facility with which temporary vows can be dispensed has tended almost inevitably to weaken respect for this particular form of commitment, because there seems ,at times to be ahnost a_tr~end not. to take such vows~verylseriously. It was against this background i~f doubts and diffi-culties that suggestions gradually began to come to the fore that the probation which is the aim of temporary E. L. Hes~n, ~.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS vows might possibly be achieved by some other means. It is generally admitted that a candidate can acquire an authentic and practical experience of religious life evvideend t hhoe uhgahs nthoet b~o.p~us~snib_ldil~i_btyty _-p ou~b_!_[ ilci_v_i~r_~negl_:tiignid.?eUr Sso v_o_wmse,_ p 9rot~-h~r form of binding commitment. The possibility of pre-paring for perpetual commitment without some form of temporary commitment is not given serious con-sideration. Could not a young religious make this commitment through a simple promise having the proper juridical sanction? Such questions as these provided the background for the provisions contained in the recent Instruction Renovationis causam on the renewal of religious formation issued by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, January 6, 1969. Among the special experimental faculties requested by the Union of Superiors General and the International Union of Mothers General in December, 1967, was that of substituting a commitment by promise got tem-porary vows. The pertinent passages of the latest Instruc-tion of the Holy See read as follows: 34~I. The general chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may de-cide to replace tem.porary vows in the institute with some other kind of commlunent, as for example, a promise made to the institute. II. This commitment will be made at the end of the novitiate and for the duration of the probationary period extending to perpetual profession or to the sacred commitments which are its equivalent in certain institutes. The tempora_ry-commitmenC. may also be made for a briefer period-and ~ r~new~d at stated intervals, or even be followed by the making of tempo-rary vows. Thus, the general chapter of an institute may decide that, instead of temporary vows, a candidate may2bin~ himself to live.acgordiiag to the constitutions in prep~ira- ~i~)i~--for~the profession of perpetual vows. The question naturally arises: What is the difference between such a promise and a vow? In reply we can state that a vow is a special kind o~ promise. Every vow is a promise, but not every promise is a vow. A vow is defined by moral theologians as "a deliberate and free promise made to God of a possible and better good" (Noldin, Summa theologiae moralis, II, p. 195). A promise, in general, implies binding oneself to do or to omit something, such promise being accepted by the one to whom it is made and thus giving rise to a genuine obligation. The binding force underlying this obligation would be that of the virtue of fidelity. It is of the essence of a vow that it be made to God. A vow is an act of the virtue of religion, because it is an act intended to honor and to worship God. Hence + 4- 4- Vows/Promises VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ E. L. Heston, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 376 "vows" made, as the expression often has it, to the Blessed Mother or to some favorite saint, are not vows at all in the authentic sense of the term, unless the im-mediate term of the promise, for example, the Blessed Mother or some saint, is understood as ultimately having God for its object. Hence, the fulfillment of a vow entails a twofold moral goodness, that of the act itself and that of the vow, just as the violation of a vow implies a two-fold malice, one against the virtue involved and another against the virtue of religion. Under these aspects, the promise which could replace temporary profession is clearly different from a vow. First and foremost, su~h_~aspr~omi_se-~pu~!_d.not~bemade-to God but-~tp.-~tbe.-_.cong~_ega_t~on. Hence the~:m_~king.and _keeping of_~t_h_eTpromise would in no way-involve the virtue of religion. And just as there would not be a twofold moral ~goodness in the act commanded by this promise, so there would be no twofold moral malice in failure to keep it. In these considerations, we find the essential oldifferences between a temporary vow and a temporary promise. What form will such a promise take? Various possi-bilities present themselves. The basic principle would be that this promise should ~pproxi_~mate~S~asTcl6sely~as~ possibl~- the:- commitment of ten~porary_ professi0~;it-self;- It should contMn at its very.heart and core thee 0bli~a- ~ibi~to li~ acc-ording t~-ttie evangelical ~c6unsels in the' ma_~n_e_r _o~uth__ne_d ~y the constitutions of. the: institute~- This would provide an authentic experience of religious life by imposing basically the same kind of life as would result from the making of temporary religious vows. A simple "promise of service," or something similar, unless clearly defined in all its implications, would hardly seem adequate. The main objection would be that.-it-seems__to.shift~the ~mpha__s_i_s__~rom" God t6-6ttfe-~: Love of nexghbor i~-~f~o~rse, love of God, provided it be properly understood and practised, and vice versa. But it is extremely important to establish and maintain a God-centered approach to religious life. This is done by being convinced, first of all, of the special significance of the commitment, the special consecration, which flows from the act of profession either of a Vow or of a promise t o-live~as~ t hough-_~o~ ti a-d~ be-~O~-n rn~a~d~ This is w"--~-fi~ke-~'~vationis chusam, n. 35, I, states clearly: It is altogether proper that this temporary bond should have re[erence to the practice o~ the three evangelical counsels, in order to constitute a genuine preparation ~or perpetual pro-fession. It is o[ the utmost importance to safeguard unity of religious ~ormation. Although~ the-pr~i~i~eZb[ ~this--li~e is realized, definitively at ~r~etual'~i~ofes~i0ni it afih~-~ begin quite'a 16hg time before ~is pr~fes~ion~ - From these observations it should be clear that, as ]~ar as substance is concerned, a probationary period based on a promise is not fundament~ll~ different in effect from ofie based on temporary yows. The difference is more in the psychological than in the real objective order. But since the problems which called for a new solution were in that same order, it is natural that their solution should be found there also. Article 36 of the Instruction Renovationis causam stipulates that the general chapter shall determine the juridical effects and sanctions involved in the making of a promise instead of vows. Thus the chapter will have to decide, among others, such questions as active and passive voice, the mutual obligations of the candidate and the institute and so forth. This determination by the chapter is necessary because, since they will not have made public vows, r.eligious__bound by a temporary pr.omise, will. not be religious-in the canonical sense o~ the term. For the adoption o~ a promise instead of temporary vows, as for the adoption o~ some other faculties made possible by Renovationis causam, the approval of a two-thirds vote of the general chapter is required. One might ask just what is to be done in cases where a special or ordinary general chapter has already been held or in those where such a chapter is yet to be convoked. The Instruction provides that in such cases the superior gen-eral and his council, acting as a body, will decide col-legially if a special chapter is to be summoned for this specific purpose. If it is deemed impractical to convoke the chapter or to anticipate the chapter already scheduled for a later date, and if at the same time it is thought urgent to proceed along the lines mapped out by the Instruction, the superior general will consult all the major superiors and their respective councils. If at least two-thirds of their number are in agreement, he and his council, as before, may proceed to implement the dispensations from canon law outlined in the docu-ment. In institutes having no provinces, the superior general will consult all the perpetually professed re-ligious and if two-thirds of them concur, he may then proceed with his council as before to implement the provisions of the Instruction. The Instruction makes an observation which is of the utmost importance when it reminds all religious that, although the existing juridical norms are being notably eased, this should not be to the ultimate detriment of the fundamental religious values which both the former legislation and the new possibilities have endeavored to safeguard (see the second last paragraph of the Intro-duction of the Instruction). No one should get the er-÷ ÷ ÷ Vows ] Pi'omises VOLUME 28, 1969 377 roneous impression that these new provisions are in-tended in any way to contribute to a wat~ing down of the religious, life. Their purpose, on the contrary, is to make it possible to use new approaches to make reli-gious life more realistic and earnest and thus to enable it to make to the Church at large the contribution which is expected of it. It hardly needs to be pointed out that no one expects this particular experiment or even the others, to solve all the psychological and emotional problems confronting both those in formation and those responsible for adapt-ing formation structures to the mentality and particular needs of contemporary youth. But the door has been left open by the Holy See, and only experience will even-tually show what advantages or disadvantages may ulti-mately accrue to the religious life through the use of a different method of preparing for perpetual profession. 4- 4- 4- E. L. Heston, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER MARY ROGER, S.B.S. The Christian Aspect of Black Power In August, 1968, nearly two hundred of us black Sisters, representing approximately seventy-two religious orders in the United States and one in Africa, came to-gether for the first time in history at Mount Mercy College in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Many of us were reluctant and fearful about this conference at the start, but needless indeed was this trepidatibn on our part, for we found it to be a bold and brave happening--a superbly strengthening and stimulating experience. It is in the light of this new-found strength and stimulation that I express my opinion of Black Power, an opinion formed with knowledge of the views of many black people. On a hot Mississippi day in 1966, the term Black Power was uttered from the depths of the soul of a man who really believed in it. The term has always been in our vocabulary, but under different connotations-- meanings, perhaps, not put so boldly and clearly. The Black Power of which we speak today, and which so many of our oppressors fear, is really black people tending to black business. Now we all know that to have or do business one must have a hold and share in the power structure and those elements which comprise af-fairs. For this to be realized, the attitude of the white business man must be opened to grasp every opportunity to inculcate the genius and good will of the black man into his business. The black man, in his turn, must seek out means to make himself an "in" member and move on to greater shares, such as management and owner-ship. The person who truly strives to eradicate educa-tional denial and economic exploitation is a real ad-vocate of Black Power. Black Power is the ability of black people to hold black conventions in order to better equip and strengthen ourselves to bring about more harmonious living be-tween the races. 4. 4. Sister Mary Ro-ger, S.B.S. teaches at Holy Providence School; 1663 Bris-tol Pike; Cornwells Heights, Penrisyl-vania 19020. VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Roger, S.B.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Black Power is black pride, something which has long been overdue. Thank God we are getting it nowl (I can recall how ashamed of our "supercurly" hair, jet black skins, and deep rich voices some of us were. How could we feel otherwise when it was so apparent that straight-haired and white-skinned people could go anywhere and do anything?) It is because of this same black pride that black Americans are demanding black leaders for local affairs. It is the duty of white America to understand this and to move ahead in the direction of not only encouraging black people tending to black business, but of witnessing black people tending to white business. Un-til we reach that latter state we have not arrived at the full meaning of our topic. Standards do not have to be lowered for all of us, any more than they must be lowered for all of any other race. No race is an island of all things bad. We are all capable of being good or bad. Circumstances affect peo-ple. People must, in turn, understand and improve the circumstances. Every single facet of American life must be opened to us. No doors can be closed. That time has passed. We are here. We have been here. We have worked here. We are going to stay and prosper here. Black Power is the business of all of us, and since it is, various discrepancies are intolerable. For example, when a certain black man uttered non-flattering remarks, he was barred from the city; whereas a certain white man publicly de~ed our federal government and openly threatened us--and he ran for president of the United States. In another case, a black man was jailed for "in-flammatory" remarks; while a white man, guilty of similar fiery comments, was never imprisoned and has become the second head of our country. It would almost seem that some are punished and some rewarded for the same utterances, depending only on the color of their skin. "A house divided against itself cannot stand." Our country can no longer go on the way it has been going. No man has it in his power to tamper with justice. Because of the fear of Black Power many areas will be closed fast and long to us, but we must persist in our attainment of that which is rightfully ours. On many occasions persistence must become insistence. Few men give gladly and willingly of their riches and power-- especially to an oppressed people who have finally de-cided to be oppressed no longer. It is well for all of us to remember that there is room in the world for fortitude and daringness as well as patience and caution. To just sit and just wait after years and years of waiting should be judged as cow-ardice. Study your history, fellow Americans. Many wars have been fought in the name of justice. Even G9d saw fit to deal violently with Pharaoh and his people for the sake of justice to the Hebrews. Certainly we will not debate the meaning of Patrick Henry's famous words. He meant to fight and die for liberty. He was not con-tented to wait. He was tired. He had "had it." For this valor, .we, today, still admire, him. He is an American hero. If there are multiti~des of similar .cases, then, I ask you, can you expect less of others who are tired and have "had it"? If so, why? Black Power is being just about the proper places in history for all people. It is time that it be made known to the nation that Benjamin Banneker played a major part in the planning of the city of Washington as well as L'Enfant. It should be written that Columbus had a black ship pilot with him in 1492. It should be told that black men helped to find and found territories in the West. In 1512, a group of black people landed in Florida with Ponce de Leon in search for the "Fountain of Youth." Where are the publishers who will risk the news of the great role of Crispus Attucks at the Boston Massacre? Have they been born yet? Who will write of Nat Turner and Patrick Henry in the same tone and in the same text? Black Power is not a separate book of history--it is one complete and fair history book. It is a book that tells of the lofty as well as the menial tasks of all. We have all contributed to make America great. Though our roles were limited to that which many thought necessary to limit us to, and though we had no control over the violence which the great fathers of this country saw fit to administer in order to be free--we, the black people, have contributed the most to the building and survival of this nation. We have done the hard dull work that had to be done. No one else would have done it--and it had to be done. Black Power is a certain openmindedness concerning us. It is time we did away with the beliefs that we all dance well, sing well, love watermelon and can't live without our blues and jazz. It happens that some of us can't sing, can't dance, and hope we never see water-melon again. People are individuals--we can't set up an attitude and expect our one-track mind to be the answer for all nearly thirteen million of usl It just isn't that simple. To us should not be given the credit for violence--when we were well chained and branded by man, other violent acts were being committed. I am glad to inform many that we are the least contributors to violence in the country. The few of us who commit it really have such a late start and don't know how to really do violence--we are not equipped to do violence. 4. 4. Black P ow~ VOLUME 28, 1969 38! Too good a job of violence was done on us. We are too ¯ noble to be truly violent as a people. It is tragic that Amer-ica so readily answers to violence. Only a violent act seems to bring our government heads to a session called on our behalf. The big poverty programs really started after. Watts. In the mentality of stalwart Christians of old, we, ttxe Catholics of today, must do when something is to be done, must speak when something should be saidl We must make it our duty to right the unpardonable wrong, to fight the unrelenting foe; and when we are weary and our souls tend to waver--bear in mind: Only insofar as the black man has access to America will America have access to Godl Aware of this fact, let us resolve here and now, to be determined, or more de-termined, to right wrongs near us, so that--even though not nationalized nor immortalized--we shall all be able to say: Free at lastl Free at last! Thank God almighty, we're free at last! ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Roger, S.B$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH J. REIDY, M.D. The New Community and Personal Relationships For a number of years some directors of seminaries and superiors of religious communities have sought help from psychiatrists and persons in related professions. Most of the help has been in the diagnosis and treat-ment of individuals, the screening of candidates, and courses related to the pastoral duties of priests. In the fall of 1966 the superiors of a religious order asked me to take part in the training program of their postulants and novices. The superiors were concerned about the increasing discontent and emotional problems in their communities, particularly affecting the younger and apparently well-adjusted sisters. They thought that if changes were made in the ~training of these persons, some of the maladjustment might be prevented. I do not know if a psychoanalyst had ever worked with a group of religious in this way; but it was a new experience for me, and I was not certain that I knew the best way to do it. Since I believe that the service I performed differed from those offered by other professionals who have worked with such groups, it might be of interest to describe not only the results, but also the procedure.1 We discussed what we thought might be appropriate and finally agreed that I would simply meet regularly with the postulants who had just begun their religious training. I asked that these meetings not be presented 1 Several years ago a community in Mexico worked with several psychoanalysts in what was called "group psychoanalysis." From the accounts that were available to me, I was not able to decide just what was taking place and whether I could agree with all that was done. I feel it is important to have this description so that a fair judgment can be made about this procedure. + + + Dr. Joseph J. Reidy, M.D., writes from 1010 St. Paul Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. VOLUME 28, .1969 383 .L ~. Reidy, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~84 as classes or as group psychotherapy and that attendance at the meetings be voluntary. I decided to prepare no material for these meetings, to introduce no topics, and to talk with the sisters on whatever topics they wished. I hoped in this way they would talk about what interested and troubled them, not what their superiors or I thought were their con-cerns. They might have some difficulty in talking, and some important matters might not be mentioned; indeed, a possible outcome was that nothing of importance would be discussed. By this arrangement I hoped to avoid certain diffi-culties. One danger was ,that if the sessions were too much like classes, very little fedling might be expressed. On the other hand, if the participants experienced feelings too intensely, they might become so anxious that they would not wish to continue. This almost certainly would happen if I brought up sensitive topics for discussion without regard to their readiness. I did not make any suggestion about the superiors being present, and after the first two meetings the director of postulants did not come to the rest of the meetings. During the novitiate, the second year we worked together, the director of novices came only to the last meeting. I had asked the superiors not to tell me about the religious rule and practices of their order, nor about any of the candidates. I wished to learn, if possible, how these sisters experi-enced the life of the order. Also, I did not want to eval-uate or diagnose any individual, nor did I wish them to feel I was doing so. During the two years I worked with them I did not report the content of the meetings or information about the individual sisters to the supe-riors; and the sisters knew this. They also knew that at no time would I discuss any person with the superiors, and that when I was ready to make my recommendations to the superiors I would share them with the group. At our final meeting I discussed with the sisters the ideas contained in this paper. There were seventeen young women in the group. All except four had just finished high school, and of the four, three had had one year of college, and one had a graduate degree. Several had gone to high school together, but the others had not known each other before entering the order two months earlier. After a few meetings the large group was divided into two groups of eight and nine persons, and each group met with me for an hour on alternate weeks. The meetings lasted through the pos-tulant year, were interrupted when the sisters went home for the summer, and resumed when they returned as novices. During the two years, the meetings were a matter of lively interest to all, even though some looked on them with disfavor. It did not appear that they tried always to tell me about their "problems," one reason being that they were very enthusiastic about the new life and did not feel there were many problems. They wondered at times why they were meeting with me. Sometimes they agreed beforehand on things to talk about when the group met. But often they did not know what to say, and self-consciously filled the beginning of each meeting with everyday events, with little jokes and teasing of one another, and often asked me what to talk about. Some-times they forgot I was in the group, and found them-selves talking about things in a way which they later said was different than they did at other times and places. They could talk about things in these meetings which they could not talk about in their community recreation, because the meetings with me were not "gripe sessions." Outside the group they might not choose to talk to some sisters about certain things, yet when the group met they could talk about these things to these sisters. At the end of the two years many said that they felt they knew those who had been in their half of the group in a different way then they knew the others. Their feelings changed quite often. Some of the most enthusiastic members were the ones most opposed at times to continuing the meetings. But after some of the meetings they felt the talking had been of great help in understanding. A majority felt they were obliged to attend the meetings. I had said several times that any-one or all were free to come or stay away, and the superi-ors had said the same, but it was not until the middle of the second year they finally became convinced that their presence was not a matter of obligation. During one meeting they vigorously discussed whether it would be wrong if a person missed certain religious functions without a serious reason, and among these religious functions was the hearing of Sunday Mass. After a few persons had said they would not feel guilty of wrong-doing, the question of their obligation to attending these meetings came up. Up to that time attendance had been almost perfect; at once about half of the group stopped coming. I had hoped that if the groups were not given topics to discuss, they would talk about the important things. As I followed the meetings and thought about them at their conclusion, it seemed to me that one theme occurred more frequently than any other. It was a very broad theme; and, as they presented it, included many aspects of their life. I think of it as forming the main topic of this paper. ÷ ÷ ¯ New Community VOLUME 28, 1969 385 4, I. I. P,.i=I~, REVIEW' FOR RELIGIOUS 386 It was their living in community. They spoke of it in general and in theoretical terms, and also in respect to particular events and persons. They did not generally find fault with the community life as practiced in this order; they .accepted it and wished to learn to live it. They asked what it was and how do you live it. What do you do with certain feelings about your fellow religious? How do you handle---or, more often, how do you get rid of--angry, critical, or competitive feelings? They wanted to know how the life as a postulant and novice prepared them for the life they would lead after their training. At times some of them were uncomfortable in the physical closeness of group living, and some had less privacy than they had been accustomed to.~ It is not surprising that they asked these questions and many others; and I do not feel that their having these questions means that there is anything wrong with their adjustment to the life. But I am not sure they found the answers to these questions during their two years of training. Often I felt they were reluctant to go through the labor of trying to understand how and why they felt about certain things. They wanted ready-made solutions, definite answers, and ways to control and put in order their feelings. I knew that I could not in these limited contacts help them to find the answers to these problems and questions, but I did try to help them to see the usefulness of examining their feelings, of tolerating a certain amount of doubt, uncertainty, and anxiety, in the interest of acquiring more than a superficial knowledge of themselves. I would like to look at the topic of living in com-munity and then consider how it concerned these sisters. ~During the summer of 1967, when the postulants were at their homes, I met with another group, of about the same number, who were finishing their third year of training. It was a very brief series of meetings and I did not feel that I had an opportunity to know these sisters very well. But they presented many of the same prob-lems and questions about community life, In the summer of 1968, while I was finishing this paper, I began a series of meetings with a third group of sisters who had been in the order since 1961 and who were preparing to make their final vows. Before the meetings began, the sister provincial asked them for suggestions on topics to be considered. There were twenty-one sisters in this group and the seventeen who answered all suggested topics related to community living. Some of the suggestions were: "Working out and allowing others to work out emotional conflicts." "Dynamics of recreational conversation, for example, at the supper table after being involved in school all day." "The psychology involved in the superior/sister relationship in religious life--fears each might have .in her role, and 'help' to establish a wholesome relationship between the sisters and the superior." "Creativity in forms of group livingu conflict in group livingr" "How to deal with insecure individuals in the community, strong individuals, and so forth." "Communication and openness in group living." "Integrity in relationships." The consideration of community life involves on the one hand the stability and healthof "the environment, and on the other, the intrapsychic conflicts and adaptations of the individual. As to the first, we want to know if the community life affords the opportunity for healthy growth and adjustment. Is it an enviromnent in which a sister can given enthusiastic and dedicated service, or is living in a particular community used as an excuse for mediocrity and avoidance of responsibility? Is .the living together an intolerable stress? I knew that the order was seriously examining these issues and had made many changes in recent years. The superiors were aware of the. well-known problems of religious life, for example, those about authority, and were looking for ways to remedy the defects they had found. In the second year of our work the order held a general chapter for the pur-pose of examining the entire philosophy and structure of the order. I was asked to comment on position papers they had prepared for the order's general chapter, so I knew of their concern that the environment be healthy. The trainees were in the midst of the changes taking place in the order. The changes may have taken from some older sisters a security and stability, and made their adjustment difficult. I do not think it affected these sisters in this way; for one thing, they were not "used to" the thing~ that were changed or discarded. They were excited about the changes, pleased that they were informed of the discussions, and that their opinions were sought. They jokingly and, I thought, proudly referred to them-selves as "guinea pigs." Yet at times they said that the uncertainty about future changes made them feel moody and irritable. What troubled them was the task of getting along with one another--"living in community"--as they called it. It is, I think, the problem of any person living in a group. There are certain features of this group which make it different from other groups and which might change the form and intensity of the usual ga'oup problems. Among other things, they are together almost all of the time; at least during the formation years, their life is exclusively with the persons of the same sex, and it is lived for religious motives. Today the Church is thought of as the "People of God" and the "fellowship of believers." The personal rather than the legalistic aspect of religious worship is emphasized and the religious commitment is to one another arid to the world, rather than to rules and observances of com-mon life. Here is a hypothetical situation, pieced together from 'many examples given during the two years. One sister said that she cannot get along with another sister. She ÷ '4. ]. ]. Reidy, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 388 told this to her confessor and he said she should pray for the necessary grace. This still did not solve the problem. In the old days it might have been more easily solved. She could pray for her sister and keep the relationship distant or superficial. Today the spirit of living in com-munity discourages an individualistic, withdrawn piety. There is more emphasis placed on the love for one's neighbor as the manifestation of the love for God. Why a community? They thought of answers to this. They did not feel they came together because it was more efficient and economical, or a better way to serve God than if they had not joined a community. In the first few months I occasionally heard them speak of two groups of people--themselves and those out in the world. But later, and possibly because the training had been modified to have them less shut off from the "world," I no longer heard this distinction. As I listened to them, and unavoidably added my own interpretation to what they said, I felt they were tending to see, or were being instructed to think of, their relationship to one another as the expression and substance of their reli-gious life. Since they were taking seriously the concept of the Church as the "People of God" and the "fellowship of believers," it is not surprising they had the concern about personal relationships. One word I heard very frequently was "openness." This seems to be the desired characteristic of the sister of today. She has to be involved with the world, not iso-lated in her cloister as in the past. To be involved she has to be "open" with her fellow religious and with all others. This openness will lead to what some of today's spiritual writers, using terms oi: the existentialists, call "authentic encounters." This openness will lead to intimacy with one's fellows. Some of the sisters felt un-certain what this openness was, what constituted an "authentic encounter," and were uncertain that their relationships met these conditions. They felt they must be "open," yet hesitated to talk about personal concerns in the group~not just in our group, for they had the same feelings in other situations. They were reluctant to speak of anything that reflected their problems in ad-justment, for fear of hurting some other sister's adjust-ment. They should be charitable and not criticize others. One sister said that any disagreement in the Church should not be publicized, because it would confuse and upset people. What they were expressing is an oversimplified idea of personal relationships. It expects instant empathy and mutuality, not considering that genuine affection is the work of many years. An environment that expected this perfection would be unhealthy and unrealistic. Love of one's neighbor, sincerity and frankness in communica-tion with him, result from many "encounters," not all of them pleasant and exciting. And the relationship is built on respect for the independence of the other person. For each person the concepts of openness and intimacy have reference to important events in his life history. The important events in each person's past refer emotionally, and largely unconsciously, to conflicts over dependence and independence, passivity and activity, love and hate, and to many other conflicts from the earliest days of the child's relationship to its mother, through all of the very important phases of development. This is the intrapsychic aspect of the adjustment to com-munity living and the sister brings to her relationships with others in the community the solutions and adjust-ments, good and bad, she has made at other times and with other people. She is often able to change her ways of relating to people and to increase her capacity for love, but her past is always to be taken into account. We should be sure what we mean when we speak of openness, for some very serious pathology in personal relationships can pass for "openness." There are persons who make quick and easy contact with.almost everyone, but some of them are incapable of any depth, of any giving in the relationship. Others have never been able to see themselves as self-sufficient persons, separate in-dividtzals, and they constantly seek "encounters" for the purpose of attaching themselves to others. Another group of persons has defective control of impulses and con-stantly discharges aggressive and libidinal energies in actions. The activity and "encounters'" may be thought of as doing "God's work," and may be quite useful, but they can also mean that the person finds intolerable any waiting, postponement, uncertainty, or anxiety. This does not include all the ways that "openness" could be pathological. In the past, persons with certain personality disorders were attracted to religious life--dependent persons, obsessive-compulsive persons, withdrawn and schizoid persons. The superiors came to know this and tried to exclude these persons. It would be unfortunate if the changes in religious life .resulted in attracting another group of maladjusted persons, and it would be a mistake to assume that religious training could over-come such serious pathology. Just as the person who trusts no one is thought to ¯ have a problem, so does the person who trusts and is "open" to everyone. While it is at the very basis Of religion, as we understand it today, to love our fellow humans, the normal girl who comes to the convent in the late phases of her adolescence brings with her conflicts about per-sonal relationships and certain defenses against too sudden I. I. Reidy~ M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 or too much intimacy. It is a normal part of her develop-ment, and it sometimes makes it difficult for her to know how she is to be "open." I should mention here that the fact that these sisters were involved with the turmoil that is part of all of the phases of adolescence is an im-portant consideratibn in the training program, but one ¯ that requires a separate paper. Certain defenses are necessary to our narcissism and self-esteem. Some we need to help us control our aggres-sive and sexual impulses, to enable us to live in a group. Much of what we call "good manners" serves these func-tions, and our agreeable response to the genuinely polite and considerate person is due to the recognition that he has treated us with respect. Denying or overlooking facts that would lower our self-esteem are other examples of defenses. Other persons must respect our defenses and not intrusively push them aside. These sisters who have chosen to give up certain gratifications of material and sexual pleasure, and who live in circumstances that often require great giving of themselves, deserve rela-tionships that are respecting of their personal integrity. In times past, the conduct of persons living in religious communities was prescribed by many rules and customs which could easily serve as defenses against intimacy. Religious could not enter one another's rooms, were bound by rules of silence, and "particular friendships" were discouraged. They did many things together-- praying, eating, recreating, working--but many of these activities were formalized, and I would imagine that members of a community could do many things together with only superficial communication with one another. I am not sure this was always neurotic, and it was a way of life which could lead to quite healthy personality development. But many of the religious consider that way of life as unsuitable for today's world. The old ways, often too much of a defense against intimacy, are gone or going, and we need to work out adequate replace-ments. One of the things we should look for in the replacements is how they help each person relate to others in the community in the way and at the pace she is capable of. During the middle of the postulant year, the sisters had an experience which illustrates the problems in-volved in personal relationships. In groups of two or three, for a period of six weeks, they worked as teacher helpers in public schools in the slum areas. They were overwhelmed by the intense relationships which these deprived children demanded from them. Some of the sisters were very generous and experienced a good deal of pain when they realized they could not give enough to the children, and at times were frightened when the response to their giving was the demand for an even closer, more exclusive relationship. A few of the sisters sought to control the children's bid for affection by keeping them at a distance and being effective dis-ciplinarians. They demanded of the sisters an intensity o~ relationship, an "openness," if you will, which the sisters were not prepared to give. We might wonder how many people could give in this way, and how realis-tic were the expectations of the children. The defenses against too sudden or too intense inti-macy may explain why some subjects were never men-tioned at our meetings. If the group was open, it did not always show it at these meetings. At the end of the two years, some said that if my purpose had been to help them communicate better, I had not succeeded. There are some things most people hesitate to talk about freely, even to a confessor or a psychiatrist who is not part of their daily life. I do not think that because certain sub-jects were not discussed that these sisters were inhibited in any abnormal way. Sexual topics, feelings about certain spiritual matters such as prayer and vocation, and reli-gious belief itself, came up not at all, or only in very limited ways. After one meeting, one sister asked me if she should mention the subject of homosexuality, since she felt it was important. I agreed that it was im-portant and said that I had no objection to our discussing it, but that it was really up to her and to the group. At the very last meeting she asked: "What do you tell a friend who you know had a homosexual problem?" None of the group seemed inclined to discuss this, so I said only that if she .felt able to talk to her friend about it, she should advise her to see a psychiatrist. Each one has defenses against relationships becoming too intense. During one of our meetings, three of the sisters described the difficult times they had communicat-ing with and feeling close to their mothers, who wanted, so the girls thought, to keep them dependent. They felt they had to be careful what they talked about to their mothers, and there were many personal things they never discussed with them. This astonished some of the others in the group, who said that they were "pals" with their mothers and had no difficulty talking with them. The sisters felt that the spirit of the group was im-portant, and they were right, as they were right about the importance of loving each other. But the trouble again was in the application of the idea. The grand-parents of one sister died within a few days of each other, and this sister was very close to her grandparents. As I heard of the responses of her fellow religious, I thought they helped her mourn her loss in a way that was loving and realistic and dignified. This was one example of the ÷ ÷ New Community VOLUME 28, ~.969 391 4, 4, ]. ]. Reidy, M.D. spirit of the group. But sometimes a sister felt that the way another sister performed her duties, to take another example, put an unfair burden on the others, and so hurt the spirit of the community. Should you be "open" with the person and tell her about her fault and how it was hurting the community? I gather that some tried this and their comments were not always welcome. There was also the idea that group living meant that the group should not be divided on any issue or activity. They would have rejected the term "conformity," and felt they were too liberal or independent .to be conform-ists, but it may be difficult sometimes to tell the dif-ference between consensus and conformity. What I wish to emphasize was that these sisters were taught and believed that their community life was one of the most important manifestations of their religious state, and they wished to be good religious. But they found difficulty in putting into practice the ideals of community living, as expressed in the love of one's neighbor. They needed help in understanding that personal relationships are very complex, and that open-ness and intimacy are not quickly and easily attained. Yet I did feel that the meetings in some way "opened up" things. The sisters regularly told me how, for the day or two after each meeting, they had discussions among themselves of its contents. After one meeting when the group worked hard and with much feeling on some problems of their relationships to each other, they felt that their mood had changed, and their anxiety lessened, and they warmly thanked me. During the course of the two years, four of the group began individual psychotherapy. I found out later that they told the di-rector of novices that the group meetings made them aware they needed help, but they felt they could not talk about their difficulties in the group. Regarding recommendations to the superiors about the training program, I felt that there was little I could say about the environment, because they were making it a healthy one. The impact of the experiments in com-munity life will have effects on the idea and forms of community, and these must continue to be observed. But I felt that in their training, in ways that would differ for different communities and individuals, the sisters could be made more aware of the complexity of human relationships. There is a middle course between the old cautions against close personal relationships and the expectation of instant and universal intimacy. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 392 JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. The Four Moments of Prayer The religious life today presents many different faces to one who is trying to assess its mood, vitality, and di-rection. Sometimes we wonder how so many different (often contradictory) qualities can come under the same common denominator which we call the religious life. It is like watching the weather report on television. We see varying types of weather throughout the whole country, currents of air moving in different directions, high pressure in one part, low in another, rain in one place, snow in another, and sunshine in another. This suggests the picture of the various trends in the religious life at present, or for that matter in the whole Church. It would be too ambitious a project to try to draw the weather map of the religious life. Like the weather-man we would very likely be wrong in many of our judgments. We would like to single out only one aspect of the religious life, the life of prayer. Even here we find many conflicting currents. In fact the life of prayer is a small scale model of the whole weather map with the various currents running through the religious life. There is, on the one hand, great interest in prayer. This is very often manifest in the careful attention which many congregations are. giving to the subject of prayer in preparation for chapter meetings. On the other hand, we have to confess that very often more time is spent in talking about prayer than in pray-ing. As in the case of so many other religious values, discussion of the value has become a substitute for the value itself. Even in the discussion of prayer there is often the feeling that one needs prayer if he is to be a good religious, while without prayer he is a religious, though perhaps not outstanding for his piety. It is extremely important for us to recapture once again the New Testa-ment mentality concerning prayer. It is simply this: to be J. R. Sheets, s.J., teaches in the De-partment of The-ology; Marquette University; Mil-waukee, Wisconsin 53233. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a Christian in the true sense of the term one must pray. Prayer is not simply an accessory to Christian life, some-thing superadded to make a better Christian out of a good one. A Christian is one who prays. This is the lesson which is brought home in every book of the New Testament. It is not something mentioned in passing. It is the milieu of Christian life as we find it described there. We have to question the seriousness with which we live our Christianity .if one of the primary signs of our Onion with the Father in Christ is not present, namely, our response to this new fellowship through prayer. There are basically two signs which manifest the nature of the new fellowship in grace. They are signs which manifest the new orientation which we have to God and to our fellowman. The new orientation to God is shown in our filial attitude, because we are sons with the Son and can say, "Abbal Father." Practically this is Shown in our life of worship and of prayer. The new relationship which we have to others is shown through charity: "By this love you have for one another, everyone will know that you are my disciples" (Jn 13:35). If' these signs are not there, then our Christian life is like that of a retarded child, an unfortunate affliction in any family, but especially in the family of God. There are retarded Christians as there are retarded human beings. We have to realize that prayer flows from the very nature of .the fellowship we have with Christ, the Father, and with one another, through grace. It is not something extra. As we have said, the New Testament leaves no ambiguity on that score. For example, we see Christ praying and teaching his disciples to pray; th~ Christian community is a prayerful community; through-out his Letters Paul speaks of his own prayer and exhorts the Christian communities to persevering prayer; the book of Revelation shows the whole of creation, with the Church at the center, united in praising God and the Lamb. There is a great need to recapture the New Testa-ment notion of prayer and to see how it is integral to the life of the Christian. What was called the "Death of God" was simply the surfacing of the death of faith. In turn the death of faith has its roots in many cases in the neglect of prayer. It should be no surprise if we cannot see when all of the lights are turned out in a city or in a room. Again, it should be no surprise that there is a power failure in our faith and in our love if there is no effort to draw light and strength from God through prayer. Christian prayer draws into conscious focus the whole of our Christian life. In our ordinary day-to-day life it is probably true to say that everything enters into the power we have to speak---our physical, mental, and social life. It we are weak, our words have little strength; it we have no ideas, our words have little meaning; if we are not interested in communicating to another, our words are movements of air. The same is true of our life of prayer. Everything in our lives enters into it. Like the point in the hourglass, everything from our life must pass through it into our prayer. It brings into focus the relationship we have to God and also to our fellowman. I[ God is remote and impersonal, then there will be no prayer. If God is dead, then prayer is dead. Similarly, if our relationship to others is unchristian, then our prayer will be like that described by the king in Hamlet: "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: words without thoughts never to heaven gg-" The First Moment of Christian Prayer There are ~undamentally four "moments" to Christian prayer: listening, seeing, responding, and translating what one has heard and seen into one's life. We are not using the word "moment" here in its specifically tem-poral sense. Rather it is used to describe the movement of Christian prayer, which like the movements of a symphony make one organic whole. We would like to comment on each o£ these moments o~ prayer, keep-ing in mind that, although there is a certain logical sequence in which one ~ollows from the other, in prac-tice they cannot be separated or schematized in an artificial manner. First and foremost Christian prayer is listening. There is probably no other expression which so aptly describes God's relationship to us and ours to Him. It is based, like other expressions which we use to describe God's relationships to man,.on man's relationships to other men. It will be helpful to comment on this. In human listening there are always three elements forming something of a triangular relationship: the speaker, the word, and the one listening. Where all three aspects are present there is communication through the word. If one or the other is absent, there is no communication. We also know that there are different levels of speaking and listening. They are levels going from communication o~ information about things or about oneself to the deepest level, that of communication o~ oneself through words. Each level of communication corresponds to a level of giving on the part of the speaker and a level of receiving on the part of the one listening. The range of giving on the part of the speaker goes from giving information, all the way to giving himself. The range of receiving for the listener is~ the same. On his ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28, ~-969 " 395 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. R. Shee~s, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 part there are degrees of openness ranging from an openness to information to an openness for communion with another person. This relationship of speaker to listener very aptly describes God's relationship to man. It is not possible to develop this idea at length. If we did, we would see that it involves the whole mystery of revelation, culmi-nating in the mystery of the Incarnation and redemp-tion. God's words are really actions. They are the form or shape which His actions take when they are addressed to man's heart through his power to hear: "The word that goes from my mouth does not return to me empty, without carrying out my will and succeeding in what it was sent to do" (Is 55:11). Concretely Christian prayer is listening to God's word in Scripture. It means opening oneself to God's will to communicate Himself through His word. What we could call the "mental shape" of His will for us is com-municated to us in Scripture. The Scripture is the privileged locus of God's word. It will be helpful if we can understand more fully the mysterious power that the word of God in Scripture has for us. The mystery of the power of the prophetic word is a mystery of how the power and wisdom of God can be articulated in human words in such a way that the words themselves mediate this power and wisdom. There is a power to these words which transcends their material and time-conditioned aspect. This power is not the same that belongs to the artist's creation. His work also transcends to some extent the limitations of time and space and appeals to something perennial in human nature. He evokes hidden reso-nances with the human spirit which are timeless because they belong to the very nature of the human spirit. But the power of the word of God in Scripture is very different. We find there something analogous to what takes place in the Incarnation. In this mystery the Word in His power overspills and overflows His flesh which embodies this mystery. The artistic creation has a certain power for us because we share in a common humanity and common experiences with the artist. But the power of God's word, and in a special way, the power of Christ's word, comes from the fact that it belongs to the mystery of life for which we were made, a sharing in the life of the Son. If we are related to the artist's word and work through a common humanity, we are much more intimately related to the word and work of God because we were made for the purpose of sharing this mystery: "To have what must die taken up into life--this is the purpose for which God made us, and he has given us the pledge of the Spirit" (2 Cor 5:5). We were not made to share a common humanity but to share that for which a common humanity provides the foundation--a sharing in the life of the Son. The word of God in Scripture is, then, closely re-lated to the mystery of our own identity. It is no stranger to us. It is the mental shape which God's will takes because of His intention to share with us His life. The words of Scripture make up our "name." If we re-call, for the Jew the name declares the meaning of the person. The words of Scripture declare the meaning of man in his relationship to God. For this reason the word of God is described as enveloped with a mysterious power which reaches right to our heart: "The word of God is something alive and active: it cuts like any double-edge sword but more finely: it can slip through the place where the soul is divided from the spirit, or joints from the marrow; it can judge the secret emotions and thoughts. No created thing can hide from him; every-thing is uncovered and open. to the eyes of the one to whom we must give account of ourselves" (Hb 4:12-5). The prayer of the Jew is also a listening to the word of God. It differs from Christian prayer in the same way that listening to a musical note differs from listening to the chord which embodies and fulfills the note. The Jewish attitude is seen in the response of Samuel when the Lord called him: "Yahweh came and stood by, calling as he had done before, 'Samuel, Samuel.' Samuel answered, 'Speak, Yahweh, your servant is listening' " (1 S 3:10-1). The Christian response, however, is typi-fied by Paul's words to Christ when He appeared to him on the road to Damascus: "What am I to do, Lord?" (Acts 22:10). Christian prayer is listening to the word of God given to us in Christ. The Christian listens to the words of the Old Testament only insofar as they are avenues directed to their fulfillment in the Word-made-flesh. For this reason, in the vision in which St. John sees Christ clothed as the High Priest, he describes the sword of God's word coming from the mouth of Christ: "In his right hand he was holding seven stars, out of his mouth came a sharp sword, double-edged, and his face was like the sun shining with all its force" (Rv 1 : 16). As we mentioned, there are different levels of speak-ing to which there correspond different levels of listen-ing. At the most profound level there is a communica-tion of self through the word. At this level words become the expression not of knowledge but of love. On the listening side, there must not only be a hea~ing but a true listening whicl~ comes from love. There must be a loving-listening which corresponds to love-speaking. We all l(now that we listen to the degree that we realize what is said is important for us. A student ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 28, 1969 397 ÷ ÷ 4, ]. ~{. Sheets, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 listens at different levels to what the teacher says. If he thinks something is going to be asked on an exami-nation, he will listen more carefully. We listen to those things which involve us personally. If someone is talk-ing about us, we are all ears. If someone is talking to us, our attention can be very superficial. Theoretically we perhaps realize the importance God's words for us. But practically speaking they are like projectiles which hit a hard surface and then ric-ochet off in the distance. While it is true that our very identity, our very purpose for being, is involved in the words of God and that these words are written about me and for me and to me, in practice they simply are not that meaningful. A partial reason for this is that the word of God is not always easy to interpret. But this is not the main rea-son. The main reason lies deeper than this. It lies in the intention of the speaker and in the heart of the listener, not in the quality of the word which is spoken. The speaker's intention is to transform the listener. This means that the listener will have to give up his ways which are self-centered and become open to the ways of God. There is a basic unwillingness in the heart man to listen to a word which asks him to center his life on God and to center all Other things on the kingdom: "Set your hearts on his kingdom first and on his right-eousness, and all these other things will be given you as well" (Mr 6: This means that God's word is imperative, centering, transforming, judging, quickening. It is not easy for man to listen to such a word. His listening has to be obediential. He knows that his own life is a response to the word of God. His own words are not above the word of God. But his whole life, not only his words, lie under the judgment of the word of God. It is His word which interprets us, not our word which interprets Him. With the growing interest in the study of Scrip-ture, there is the danger that under the critics' scissors the two-edged sword of God's word begins to look like Don Quixote's limp and battered lance. Without realiz-ing it, one can develop the attitude that the word God is like any other word, simply grist for the critics' mill. We have to remind ourselves constantly that we are dealing not simply with the inspiring words of men, but the inspired words of God. Let us draw out some further implications involved in listening. In order to listen our whole being must be attuned. This means that asceticism is necessary if there is to be any real listening which is sustained in diffi-cult circumstances over a period of time. This is true in any form of listening. If one wants to listen to a lecture, or music, or poetry, there has to be an asceticism of imagination, in fact of all our faculties. Hearing is not simply a power which belongs to one faculty. The whole body listens. This is especially true where the sounds are delicate and gentle and are competing with the clamor of other sounds. Asceticism is really a refining of our power to hear the word of God, the most delicate of all sonnds, in a world filled with a thousand other sounds, most of them more flattering to our ears than the simple and chaste word of God. In order to hear the sounds of silence there must be a certain inner disposition. There must be silence. We often confuse silence with not speaking. Rather it is the atmosphere for speaking because it is the atmosphere for listening. Every poet, artist, anyone who listens to the whisperings of beauty at the heart of reality needs the atmosphere of silence to listen. Similarly, and much more, there must be the asceticism of silence for the one who is opening himself to listen to God's word. This sounds very uncontemporary to our ears today, even to many religious. Perhaps it is part of the reaction which comes from having things imposed from the out-side. For many silence simply has been an external re-striction on their power to speak, rather than an in-ternal atmosphere to listen. Similarly, many identify speaking with communication. Where there is a great deal of talk, there must be a great deal said. ~Ve know, however, that silence does not mean a lack of com-munication, nor does speaking mean communication. It is a favorite theme of the theater of the absurd that there is a real failure to communicate even though the media of communication are multiplied past all imagination. In fact, communication simply by multipli-cation of words has become a source of alienation, not of union. There is really not enough silence to listen. T. S. Eliot has touched upon this theme in one of his poems: The endless cycle of idea and action, Endless invention, endless experiment, Brings knowledge of motion, but not o[ stillness; Knowledge of speech, but not of silence; Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word --from The Rock The artist and the poet do not need to learn silence as one learns a lesson. They realize instinctively that silence is the atmosphere for receptivity. That is what Dag Hammarskj61d describes in his diary when he speaks of silence: "To preserve the silence within--amid all the noise. To remain open and quiet, a moist hu-mus in the fertile darkness where the rain falls and the grain ripens--no matter how many tramp across the VOLUME 28, 1969 399 J. R. Sheets, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS parade ground in whirling dust under the arid sky" (Markings, p. 83). Again, Gerard Manley Hopkins. speaks of silence as singing to him, beating upon his ear, piping to him, evoking from him both surrender and eloquence: Elected Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorled ear, Pipe me to pastuTes still and be The music that I care to hear. Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb: It is the shut, the curfew sent From there where all surrenders come Which only makes you eloquent. The first moment, then, of Christian prayer is listen-ing. It requires an atmosphere in which the word of God can be heard. There is a fatal instinct in all of us to reduce the word of God to the words of men, as well as to reduce the presence of God and the presence of Christ to the presence of men. There is the tendency to confuse our own dreaming and fancies with that listen-ing which comes from the Spirit of Son. This kind of listening is not always easy. It has little fiction, but much hope; little sentiment, but much love; little that is flattering, but much that is fulfilling. The Second Moment of Christian Prayer Christian prayer is also seeing. It is necessary not only to listen to the word of God; we must also see the word of God made flesh. The total mystery of God and the manner in which man is enveloped in that mystery is deployed in such a way as to grasp us not only through our power to hear but also through our power to see, while at the same time it works inaudibly and invisibly on our hearts through g~ace. By "seeing" we mean the whole range of knowing activity which can be described as various levels of seeing: the seeing which belongs to the eyes of the mind, that which be-longs to our imagination and memory, and that which belongs to our physical sight. As seeing goes from what is purely physical reflection to mental reflection it be-comes less and less passive and more and more an ac-tivity involving the concentration of all of the powers of the person. For prayer to be meaningful there must be a seeing on every level. The object must impress it-self on our whole being so that our whole world is stamped with its image. We can repeat the words of Teilhard de Chardin here to emphasize the importance o~ seeing: "Seeing. We might say that the whole of life lies in that verb--if not nltimately, at least essentially. To see or to perish is the very condition laid upon everything that makes up the universe, by reason of the mysterious gift of existence. And this, in superior measure, is man's condition" (Phenomenon of Man, Harper Torchbooks, p. 31). We are faced with an anomalous situation today. There is much emphasis on personalism and also on sacramentalism. But there is at the same time a real inner sacramental vacuum because the truths of faith do not find a sacramental stronghold in the memory and the imagination. Perhaps there is no greater neces-sity today than to sacramentalize the memory and imagination. This is the world in which men of flesh and blood live and move and have their being. It is the world which is co-natural to him, without which ideas and ideals are in peril of dying for lack of oxy-gen. If a person is to enter into the total mystery of Christ it cannot be done merely intellectually. The mystery has to grasp his image world. This brings out the necessity for good Christian art. Even more it brings out the necessity for those sense expressions of Christian faith which is to the faith what the body is to the soul. Man lives in his body, in his images. Ideas do not move a person unless they are transmitted through and rooted in images. Theoretically man might live his faith only through faith perception. Practically speaking unless his faith vision has its counterpart in the vision that belongs to his senses it will wither and die. It.is not possible to enter into this in great detail be-cause of the limitations of space. It seems that we are at present going through one of those movements which strangely enough emerge at different periods of history. It is basically iconoclastic in the literal sense of the term. The word means "image-breaker." It is applied to a particular movement in the eighth century in the Greek Church which was directed against the veneration of icons. In a wider sense it is applied to those move-ments which tend to spiritualize Christianity to the point where the bodily aspect of Christianity is ne-glected. It shows itself in rejection of images, such as statues or pictures, in the elimination of external gestures such as kneeling, genuflecting, in the abolition of those devotions in which Christian faith has in-carnated itself, or in a false mysticism characterized by a flight from man's real world. All we can do here is point out the danger, a danger which has become for many a fact. The liturgical movement can to some extent in-carnate man's faith in his sense world. This has not as yet happened, however. At present the faith of many Christians is floundering because their image world has become desacramentalized, and as yet nothing has been given to replace his traditional images. Like Adam ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 28, 1969 401 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40~) who, before the creation of Eve, could find no helpmate suitable for him, Christian faith is searching for its help-mate in the world of images. When Christian faith finds its world of images, it can also exclaim, as did Adam: "This at last is bone from my bones, and flesh from my flesh" (Gn 2:23). Practically speaking it is through our contemplation of Christ in the Gospels that we begin to create the image of Christ in the chaos of our sense world. It is through our prayer that the words "Let there be light" are extended not only to the darkness of our minds but also to the darkness of imagination and memory. The importance of seeing is a central theme in the writings of St. John. He is called the eagle. In ancient belief the eagle was consi~lered to have special power to see. He could soar close to the sun without becoming blinded by the rays of light. St. John did in fact see, both with the eyes of the faith and the eyes of his senses. His seeing is the source of his Gospel: "Something which has existed since the beginning, that we have heard, and we have seen with our own eyes; that we have watched and touched with our hands: the Word, who is life-- this is our subject. That life was made visible: we saw it and we are giving our testimony, telling you of the eternal life which was with the Father and has been made visible tO us. What we have seen and heard we are telling you so that you too may be in union with us, as we are in union with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ" (1 Jn 1:1-4). These words express the sense of the words spoken to the man whom Jesus cured of his blindness, when the man asked about the mean-ing of faith in the Son of Man. Jesus told him: '~You are looking at him; he is speaking to you" (Jn 9:37). We sometimes hear today that we do not need to pray because our action is our prayer. We do not need to contemplate Christ in Himself because we se~ Him in others. If our action is' our prayer and our contempla-tion of others really is our contemplation of Christ, this can come only because we take the time to pray formally. Unless there is formal prayer there is the danger of hear-ing only the echo of our own voice and seeing only the reflection of our own image in all that we do, while we are under the tragic illusion that it is Christ's voice and His image. The Third Moment of Christian Prayer The third moment of Christian prayer is the response. This takes various forms. It varies according to our many faceted response to the one fundamental truth: the love of the Father shown to us in the gift of His Son. "With thisgift how can he fail to lavish upon us all he has to give?" (Rm 8:32). Among the many forms which the response can take are tho~e of gratitude, praise, sorrow, adoration, and petition. There is first of all the response of grati-tude. This is the fundamental disposition of the Christian. It is one of the most common forms of prayer in the Letters of St.Paul. He begins all of his Letters with a prayer of thanks and frequently stresses the necessity of gratitude in prayer (1 Cor 14:17; 2 Cot 1:11; 4:15; 9:11-2). It would not be too much to say that to the extent that one is Christian he is also grateful. To be consciously Christian means that one is aware of the difference that the Incarnation and redemption have made in our lives. When one is conscious of the great deeds of God for our salvation the response will be praise. The Christian, like the Jew, praises God not for His essential char-acteristics (at least not directly), but for what He has done for man in His saving deeds. We only learn what God is through what He has done. We praise God chiefly for what He has done for us in Christ. We find many examples of this prayer of praise for God's wondrous deeds in Scripture: the Psalms, the hymns victory scattered throughout the Old Testament, the Magnificat of Mary, the doxologies of Paul, and the hymns in the Book of Revelation. Where there is consciousness of the failure to respond in the past, then our present response takes the form of sorrow. We have failed to listen to the word. The light of our eye has become darkness. We have become deaf and blind, as Isaiah says: "You have seen many things but not observed them; your ears are open but you do not hear" (Is 42:20). For this reason Christian prayer will always take the form of sorrow. As creature before his Creator the Christian will adore. The prayer of adoration is the prayer of Christian maturity. It comes only when one

Issue 29.1 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDI.TORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Eilard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~wEw vog l~uG~ous; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + 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 Provirice Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1970 by RZVzEw' FOR RELIOIOUS at 428 East Preston Str~:t; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class posta[~e paid at Baltimore, Maryland and ai addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Suhscsiption U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, "$9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two yean. Orders should indicate whether they ah: for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to RFvu~w FOR RI~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions; wl~re ~ccom-padded by a remittance, should be sent to Rgv~zw ~OR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~X 671; Baltimo~, Ma~land 21203. Chang~ of addr~, bu~ co~es~nd~ce, and ord~s not a~ ompa~ed a remittance should be g~Ltotous ; 428 East ~eston Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts, ~itofial cor- ~s~ndence, and ~oks for r~iew should sent to REVIEW FOR gELIOIOUS; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~uri 63103. Qu~fions for answering should ~ the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JANUARY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR Volume 29 1970 EDITORIAL OFFIG'E 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is indexed in the Catholic Peri-odical Index land in Book Re-view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i8 available from University Mi-crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. GEORGE WILSON, S.J. Community. and Loneliness Not another article on communityl Haven't we all heard enough on that subject to last us through our next ten general chapters? Perhaps. But I hope the reader will excuse me if I muse a bit out loud on some questions in this area which I feel we have neglected in spite of the deluge of analyses, anathemas, and recipes to which we have been treated in recent years. The reflections which follow will have only the merest semblance of any order. I make no apology for this. It happens to represent for me the state of the issues, which recurrently bob to the surface of my consciousness like the flotsam from a variety of experiences with religious men and women over the past six years. It strikes me, incidentally, that flotsam may be a particularly apt word inasmuch as some of these experiences involved rather disastrous shipwrecks. We might make a good beginning by taking eight giant steps backwards to a typical religious community in the year 1962. (We now know that such a thing never existed, of course; beneath the surface each com-munity was really very different. In those idyllic days, however, we might very well have lived under such an illusion.) We heard about the Council---the typical first reaction was "I wonder why?"--so we prayed for the gentle rain of the Spirit. We prayed for the success of the Council more or less as we would have prayed for a Eucharistic congress. We prayed for rain and we were treated to a ty-phoon. And not least in the area of what we came to call "community." We might even have to remind our-selves now that the word "community" was hardly ever heard before the Council. And certainly if we used it at all, it was not with all the psychological baggage with which it is currently burdened. In those ÷ + George Wilson, $.J., teaches theol-ogy at Woodstock College in Wood-stock, Md. 21163. VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. George Wilson, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS days we might have spoken of "common life"--but that was such a different thing. I hope I will be for-given the whimsical reflection that in those days "com-mon life" was frequently used to engineer the rigidity which precisely destroys all life, whereas today our more likely mistake is to invoke "community" in order to perpetrate all the most bizarre diversities which haven't the foggiest connection with the people with ¯ whom we live. Lest this latter remark be misconstrued, let me .hasten to add that it is not in any way a plea for more togetherness. I suppose at this point I am just suggesting that we abandon the futile gesture of trying to baptize the many sensible, good, and apostolic things done by religious with the tag "community." If indeed they are sensible, good, and apostolically profitable, they will remain so even without the tag, as long as the religious lives up to his or her basic commitment to the group. At any rate, I think we would all admit that "com-munity" has taken on new burdens in the renewal years. The new factor consists in the conscious emphasis on personal enrichment of the life of the individual through the intimate sharing of life with similarly dedi-cated persons. This is not to suggest that religious life in previous decades did not bring rich personal satis-faction to the lives of many wonderful and wonder-fully human beings. It is one of the cruel illusions of some of our fiery reformers to think that they dis-covered the category of the personal--cruel to others because it seems to cast a shadow over the accomplish-ment of their great lives of service, but even more cruel to the reformers themselves because, being, an illusion, it prevents them from seeing precisely the beauty of lives lived for years at a steady, if less ro-matically intense, warmth. One is tempted to think of beams and motes and so forth. Be that as it may, the difference between then and today is not, I would submit, that between coldness and warmth, but rather between a then in which the warm personal successes and the cold impersonal failures were just lived, and a today, in; which they are consciously sought after (warm personal relationships) or consciously and ruthlessly knocked down (the merely functional, computerized, impersonal civilities). People were always warm (some) and cold (some) and they still are today (some of e~ch). Wheat and cockle and all that. It is just that we religious have as a group grown more reflective about how it happens; we have evolved a new set of forms which define and give contemporary expression to warmth and coldness (and we .are evolving even newer forms at a dizzy pace); and we are more consciously searching out the ways to increase the successes and minimize the failures in the process. All of which is good. Religious communities not only should be places in which the full development of human personal potential for life and love and happiness takes place, they should also be evidently such. Signs which don't communicate are worse than anomalies: they have the fateful chameleon capacity to become counter-signs. Let it be proclaimed once and for all: a man or woman giving his or her life to Christ in a religious society should find there the ac-ceptance and warmth and affection which any hu-man being has a right to look for in his commitment to any other person or group of persons. Unfortunately this still does not get us out of the woods. I say unfortunately, because I am afraid that many religious feel that the mere affirmation is enough by itself to answer all difficulties. To draw a bold caricature which probably never happened, I ~aave the recurring fantasy of a contemporary religious say-ing: "A religious community should be an intimate group of people who are in love with one another. I don't feel that way about any of the eight people I live with and I certainly know non~ of them feels that way about me. So this isn't a community, and I'm get-ting out of this farce." Put in such a starkly simplistic form, some of the ambiguities which lurk within our thinking about community are thrown into a new light and some finer honing of our questions is called for. What degree of intimacy can a person realistically hope for with eight people selected more or less at random by somebody who won't be living with them? Yes, the community should supply warmth and personal sup-pol: t--but just who is the community when I say that? Does the community commit itself to being my only source of deep personal relationships and human ful-fillment? Need it always and in every instance even be the primary source? Is it possible that by failing to face these questions we have created a thought pattern in which the individual religious is unwittingly taught to have entirely unrealistic expectations and then when these cannot be met he or she is compelled to seek their fulfillment elsewhere? It has been observed in the case of marriage that our current high divorce rate can be directly attributed to the fact that modern man's ex-pectations from marriage are, contrary to a superficial view, actually much higher than in the past; would the increasing rate of departures from religious life be say-ing the same thing about our expectations concerning it? I would not pretend to answer all of these difficult questions in the space of a brief article. But perhaps we + 4. + Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 5 + ÷ ÷ George Wilson, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 may move the dialogue along a bit by examining a couple of areas: (l) the people with whom I should expect to find "community" when I commit myself to Christ in a religious group, and (2) one of the false understandings of community under which we may have been unwittingly operating. First, to the people. The operating principle of many religious today would seem to be that I should be able to attain to deep intimacy with all the members of my local community or else it is all a sham. I will leave aside the question which the older religious, often quite legitimately, is frequently heard to ask, namely, what in the name of all that's holy do they mean by "deep intimacy"? My presumption for the moment is that the people in question are attempting to point to something real of which they have already had some experiential taste and which they do expect to find in religious life, however halting they may be in articulat-ing what they mean by it. In other words, I can also sympathize with their common response of "if you don't even sense what I'm talking about, that's even sadder than the fact that we don't have it here." At this point the meaning of "deep intimacy" is not my con-cern. But leaving it descriptively for the moment at the level of a vague but real experience whose presence or lack can be grasped by any sensitive human being, my question is rather: With whom should I reasonably expect to achieve it? There is a "tradition" (of very recent vintage, I sus-pect) which would be shocked that the question is even raised, since sell-evidently this kind of relationship has to be achieved with one's local community. To which my question in return would be: is it all that self-evident? I ought to find a~ceptance and warmth and affection in the community of people to whom I have committed myself, but does this lead me realistically to expect a relationship of deep intimacy with the eight members of my local community? At about this point in the dialogue it is not unlikely that someone will be thinking: "But just look at the community of our first foundersl They had this kind of deep relationship, but we've lost it." The comparison is frequently made and I would like to suggest that it masks a fateful equivocation. To use the word "com-munity" to describe a handful of people who freely and individually sought each other out through a proc-ess of long personal contact and testing, and then to make this a model for one's expectations when one is assigned to a random collection of eight individuals out of a 500-man (or 35,000-man) congregation to which I commit mysel/-~this is surely courting intellectual con- fusion and psychological disaster. The founding group had a sense of community and generally very intimate relationships. (Would one seem too cynical if one were to suggest that we have probably romanticized even the latter element? A sober reading of our early histories would suggest that for all their vision and charisma our founders generally had to be very hard-headed, down-to-earth wrestlers in order to. survive the fierce opposition which their vision generated.) The fact that they had both these elements in one integrated, lived way should not make us forget that they are two different things. Perhaps a parallel drawn from a related area may be of some assistance here. The movement known as the Teams of Our Lady (or by its original French title, Equipes-Notre Dame) consists of married couples who are established into communities of six couples each. It is important to note that the couples do not as a rule choose the other couples with whom they will de-velop as a team; the leadership of the movement usually gathers them on the basis of factors such as geographical proximity and so forth. The goal of the team is to help one another grow in holiness, which involves assisting each couple to find the ways to express love in the various situations into which their marriage and family life call them. The forms and practices of the spiritual life vary from couple to couple. The role of the other couples in the team is to foster the individual couple's unique growth, not to dictate a particular recipe for conjugal sanctity. The point of the parallel is that the testimony of the couples in the movement reveals that they have discovered experientially the distinction be-tween a successful team and what they call a "cozy team." A given team which is functioning well may gradually develop also into a cozy group; the couples and their children may begin to socialize apart from the explicit team structure, they may begin to gravitate to-ward other team couples in deep friendship. Or they may not. The point is that couples find that this factor is not essential to the success of a team. Teams can reach great depths of spiritual sharing and mutual assistance and growth without a great deal of socializ-ing or what one might call camaraderie. Indeed there are teams whose rating on the latter scale is very high but in which nothing of significance with regard to the goal of the movement is happening. It will be instantly objected that the supposed paral-lel is fallacious because of course these couples already have their primary needs for intimacy satisfied else-where, prior to entry into a team. The objection has some merit; certainly the parallel limps. On the other hand, it would be a bit cavalier to dismiss it out of + 4, VOLUME 29, 1970 4. 4. 4. George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 hand simply on those grounds. We must face the fact that when we admit the inadequacies of the parallel we are not thereby justified in ignoring the facets in which it does touch home in spite of its hobbling gait. Nor--more importantly--may we thereby surrepti-. tiously insert the assumption that the religious must of course find his or her admitted needs for intimacy satis-fied within the local cgmmunity. Despite the weak-nesses of the parallel I submit that this notion remains at this point in the case exactly that, just an assump-tion. What are we to say of its value? It occurs to me that we might make a better assessment of it if we pose some specific situations for ourselves. Suppose that a given sister or brother or priest, were to discover that he or she finds it much more pleasant to be with, say, a member of the lay faculty or some parishioner or fellow nurse than with members of the local community. A deep and rich friendship has evolved through sharing important experiences together. There may be several such relationships. The religious may honestly face the fact that he shares a deeper level of friendship with people beyond the community than with those inside ~t. Should this be a disturbing discovery? Should it lead to the conclusion that this religious group ~is only a hollow facade and that honesty dictates a resignation from the group? My own personal answer would have to be negative. If I might take a stab at describing the stages of the re-cent development of community life styles, I would suggest that it has proceeded along the following lines: (1) the "lived" stage mentioned above. There were de facto some rich friendships in religious communities. There was also an explicit doctrine which inculcated fear of any human warmth. The healthy were always able to put this doctrine in psychological brackets and go on about the business of living, which is to say, trying to be human. The less healthy were more crippled by the tradition or, as a perhaps harsher judgment would have it, allowed themselves to be crippled by it. At this stage relationships outside the community were the ultimate no-no. (2) The explicit doctrine was gradually battered down by the new openness to in-sights from the human sciences, if it did not simply crumble from the weight of its own unreality. Friend-ship, warmth, openness became values to be consciously striven after. Rather ironically we rediscovered that fusty old English word "Thou~' (as .in "I-hyphen- Thou"; but never in hymns, pleasel) and eyeball-to-eyeball became the image of the day. But this was all to be within the community--it is no accident that our word "pagan" has as one of its earliest meanings simply "an outsider." And although the explicit doctrine of suspicion of friendship was finished, an unwritten tradition had evolved very quickly, according to which the community where friendship had to be discovered was the local community. In the meantime a third step was taking place, one which deserves a separate paragraph because it repre-sents the present for many religious. Having been con-sciously opened to the value of the human, they discovered that it existed outside the religious group as well. They inevitably began to experience the rise of friendships with persons outside the group. In some communities the explicit tradition quickly adjusted to this new fact by seeing it as a natural consequence of openness to personal relationship and accepted it as a good thing; in others the notion has had a more bumpy ride. For all, the -~ituation became more tense when father or brother or sister found that there were many more inviting people outside than in. The new tradition has created an intolerable bind for many. They are being told in effect (1) that every human being needs some deeply fulfilling human re-lationships, (2) that these should not be fostered out-side the community, or at least (3) that even if outside relationships are acceptable one should be able to reach that same level of intimacy with those religious with whom one happens to live as a result of the need for a teacher of remedial reading---a placement deter-mined by someone who in all probability will not be sharing the local community situation. At this juncture I am not. sure whether I have more .to fear from my. friends than my attackers. I can imagine one group hailing me because I have shown that they were right all along, that all this deep relationship business was exaggerated and all we really have to do to have .community is to be civil. (Sometimes things get so bad in dealing with this mentality that one is almost tempted to agree and settle for that, but civility seems to be one of those things you cannot have all by itself; either we aie going forward to love and warmth or else we are soon back in the cold jungle.) A group .on the opposite side is saying: "Of course that's not what he means. What he's clearly shown is that the only solution is to let everyone choose his or her own local group. Then we' can reduplicate the intimacy of our founding fathers." A third group is made up of the poor harried school,supervisors and provincials, and they are probably muttering in the corner that I have leveled another juvenile a.ttack against that old straw man, the im-personal bureaucratic sturcture, when they have had ÷ 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ 4. George Wilson, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]0 their insides torn out trying to respect the personal needs of individuals in the face of important com-munity commitments. Which means it is time for fixing our position. I am not going back on my stand affirming the importance of warm and deep human relationships for all human beings and therefore for all religious. Nor on the other hand am I convinced that a group of people which has a job to do can simply let its members form all its subgroups on the basis of free association untram-meled by the facts of broader common commitments. And I have the greatest sympathy for those in the com-munity who have the difficult task of reconciling per-sons, pegs, and holes; their service, far from being mere bureaucracy, is generally one of the most excruciatingly personal ones in the whole community. No, our solution lies neither in shrinking back from personal relationships nor in totally free association. I would suggest that the sources for an answer are in two places: in the broader pool of the larger religious community and in the open personal concourse of religious with the outside world they serve. A religious need not feel especially troubled on discovering that there are no close personal friends among those with whom he or she happens to live, provided that some-where in the larger religious group there are those with whom such a relationship exists. And the com-munity should foster the normal means by which such relationships can flourish and grow: the chance to choose vacation partners, freedom to visit and recreate to-gether without the other members of each one's local community feeling slighted, trips within reason (proportioned by the same responsible norms which two lay friends might have to use in making such a decision, such as available funds, other commitments, and so forth). Beyond the incarnated friendships of those in different local communities warm relationships with other men and women outside the community should be expected to arise, be fostered when they do, and be given the normal modes of expression which suit such relationships (if sister has to be home by midnight on a particular occasion, it is not because she is sister but because she is an adult human being with a responsibil-ity to perform as an adult the next morning--and that is something she should be free to discover for her-self by trial and, alas, error). In this way we can ease the impossible demand which has been placed on the local community by the tradition of unreasonable ex-pectations. We will of course still have to be open to growth in the depth of our relationships in the local community. We will have to be on our guard lest the needs of more withdrawn members of the local group go unattended. But paradoxically, it is just possible that we may be better able to meet these basic demands of love on the local scene if we do not expect that scene to fulfill all our human personality needs. All of this might become more acceptable doctrine if we were to examine the normal patterns of mature and healthy individuals-in-community. It is quite natural for the mature adult in our society to func-tion within a wide diversity of social circles simul-taneously, to have his own needs met and to meet the needs of others in a variety of ways and on different levels. This is true even of that most intimate of com-munities constituted by the one-to-one relationship of marriage. The husband lives on one level with his wife, on another in his field of occupation, on still another with a few very close male friends (with whom his wife may or may not be on such close terms), on another with more casual social acquaintances; he may even have a select group with whom his only contact may be a weekly game of handball. The wife's circles will be analogous; in some instances they may range more broadly than his, as for example in the parish or neighborhood. At times their circles will coincide, at times not. They will strive to enlarge the areas they share (which may not necessarily mean that they do the things together; they learn to enrich each other by sharing what they have done separately). But one thing is sure: they know that if they demand even of this re-lationship that it satisfy all their personal needs for intimacy, it will become involuted and shrivel up and die. It is true of the couple; it is true of the family on a different level; and it is true of the individuals in a given local religious community. If we are supposing, then, that a particular religious will not have any really close friend within the group with whom he or she must share years of human life and work, are we not exposing the religious to a frightening risk of loneliness? This very real question brings us to the second area in which it was suggested that we might clarify our thinking, namely, a false understanding of community which may unwittingly be causing a lot of unhealthy departures from religious life. Actually it is really a false understanding of loneli-ness rather than immediately one of community which is at issue; but on a given level these are really correla-tive notions, and our understanding of the meaning of loneliness has its impact on our expectations from com-munity life. The issue was brought home most force-fully to me in a response by Thomas Merton to an ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ]! George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ']2 interviewer's question, as reported in Motive for Octo-ber,. 1967. The interviewer touched on the issue of celibacy and solitude; and Merton's answer read in part: I think I can say I have experienced levels of loneliness that most people do not allow themselves consciously to admit. From a certain point of view I can say bluntly that to exist as a man without relating to one particular woman-and-person who is "my love," is quite simply a kind of death. But I have enough experience of human love to realize, too, that even within the best of relationships between man and woman this loneliness and death are also terribly present. There are mo-ments in human love in which loneliness is completely tran-scended, but these are brief and deceptive, and they can point 9nly to the further and more difficult place where, ultimately, two lonely and helpless persons elect to save one another from absurdity by being absurd together--and for life (pp. 36-7). This explicitation of the fact that there is a certain kind of loneliness experienced within the most intimate of unions and even in its peak moments can be of in-valuable assistance in clarifying our expectations from religious life in community. Whether we consciously admit it to ourselves or not, we.do tend to interpret the meaning and value of various human experiences by comparing them with expectations from other ways of life. This is a perfectly human process, for man is, after all, a prudential being. But the worth of the process depends on the realism with which we view the two situations. It is my convic-tion that a number of religious have made the decision to leave, religious life on the unhealthy basis of a judgment that the loneliness of religious life would be assuaged by the relationships available in lay, and particularly married, life. It is important to be dear 0n what is being asserted here. It should be evident that there is no criticism of these people intended, and certainly not a condemnation. Nor is there any at-tempt to dispute their assessment that indeed for them life with this particular religious group had become intolerable due to the type of loneliness they actually experienced. What is at issue is the use of a principle according to which religious life itself would involve a loneliness that is unique to it and would therefore be ".solved" by departure from it. This is, I believe, an unreal assumption and any decision based on it is un-healthy because unreal. Clark,Moustakas has written a precious gem of a book .which .should be required reading for all religious in formation. Entitled simply Loneliness (Prentice-Hall ';Spectrum". :paperback), the brief work makes a valuable contribution to our discussion from two points of view. Moustakas first alerts us to the fact that the one word "loneliness" can actually cover two distinct reali-ties. One consists in the experiencing of my fundamental human uniqueness, separateness, and inalienable re-sponsibility for myself and my decisions, and actions. No one can stand in my shoes, no one can do "my thing." This quality of genuinely human experience, which Moustakas .calls existential loneliness, is quite simply a part of being human: Loneliness is as much organic to human existence as the blood is to the heart.~ It is a dimension of human life whether existential, sociologidal, or psychological; whatever its deriva-tives or forms, whatever its history, it is a reality of life. Its fear, evasion, denial, !and the accompanying attempts to escape 'the experience of being lonely will forever isolate the person from his own existerlce, will' afflict and separate him from his own resources so thht there is no development, no creative emergence, no growth in awareness, perceptiveness, sensitivity. If the individual does not exercise his loneliness, one signifi-cant capacity and dimension of being hum~in remains unde-veloped, denied (pp2 When we allow ,ourselves to experience this reality in all its dimensions; we discover that is, is a gomplex phenomenon which includes both the painful acknowl-edgment of our igclination to evade responsibili.ty by leaning on someone else as well as the exhilarating discovery of the Ipower of our deepest self and its capacify for respo.hsible accomplishment.-This kind of loneliness, which belongs to every adult's life, has to be distinguished from ~inottier reality which is call'dd by the same name but is really the anxious fear. of being left alone. Moustakas calls this latter loneliness anxiety: Loneliness anxiety results from a fundamental breach be-tween what one island what one pretends to be, a basic alienation between man and man and between man and his nature (p. 24). Modern man is ;plagued with the vague, diffuse fear of loneliness. He goesI to endless measures, takes devious and circuitous pathways] to avoid facing the experience of being lonely. Perhaps the !loneliness of a" meaningless existence, the absence of values, convictions, beliefs, and fear of isolation are the most terribl~ kind of loneliness anxiety (pp. 26-7). The fact that. twqt.very different realities can go by the same name g~ves r, lse to the question: When a religious laments the loneliness of the religious group and de-cides to resolve ~he tension by separating from the community, tehic~ lcind oI loneliness is he or she at-tempting to resolve? Please note that I am not trying to answer the ques-tion in any particular case. It may very well be that the .individual may have wakened to the very valid realiza-tion 'that life in this particular group does involve such a measure of pretense, superficiality, and meaningless Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 George Wilson, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 forms that he or she is in danger o~ total self-estrange-ment. When there is the concomitant realization that the individual is impotent to do anything about this destructive communal pattern, it may be the better part of valor to shake the dust of this group from one's shoes. (What one in such a case makes of his personal commitment to serve God as a celibate-- which need not be in this community--is a broader question whid~ would take us beyond the scope of this article.) On the other hand, there is the possibility that a person may be unwittingly seeking to evade the existential loneliness which he just happens to be ex-periencing more painfully now than at previous stages of his growth; and this would of course be an impossible quest. This kind of loneliness is just part and parcel of being human; and no change from one community to another, even if the latter is the community of marriage, will change that fact. It might seem that all of this leaves us with a de-pressing prospect: we are going to be lonely come what may. Here Moustakas' second contribution opens vistas unsuspected by the togetherness generation, for he re-minds us of the positive value of the experience of loneliness. Loneliness is a condition of existence which leads to deeper perception, greater awareness and sensitivity, and insights into one's own being. New images, symbols, and ideas spring from the lonely path. The man living his life, accepting all signifi-cant dimensions of human existence is often a tragic man but he is a man who loves life dearly. And out of the pain or loss, the bitter ecstasy of brief knowing and having, comes the glory of a single moment and the creation of a song for joy. In creative loneliness there is an element of separation, of being utterly alone, but there is also a strange kind of related-ness-- to nature and to other persons and through these ex-periences, a relatedness to life itself, to inspiration, wisdom, beauty, simplicity, value. A sense of isolation and solitude is experienced, but a relatedness to the universe is maintained. Only through fundamental relatedness can the individual de-velop his own identity. The individual's loneliness is an ex-perience in growing which leads to differentiation of self. The person's identity comes into relief as he breathes his own spirit into everything he touches, as he relates significantly and openly with others and with the universe. Without any deep and growing roots in the soil of loneli-ness, the individual moves in accordance with external signals. He does not know his place in the world, his position, where he is or who he is. He has lost touch with his own nature, his own spontaneity (p. 50). Paradoxically it is only in the creative experience of our aloneness that we can come to realize the gift which we alone can bring in relatedness to those we love. It is true that only the love of another opens us up to the acceptance of our own worth (a point which must be emphasized to complete the picture, necessarily limited by Moustakas' perspective); but it remains true that the actual experiencing of our unique worth is our own act, one which inevitably isolates us even from the lover who stands outside en-couraging us to seize our own goodness and value, to create our true self: In actualizing one's self, one's aspirations, ideals, and inter-ests, it is often necessary to retreat from the world. One must have strength enough to withstand the temptations which arise when one is completely alone. This does not mean becoming uprooted or alienated. It means accej~ting the existential na-ture of man's loneliness and seeing Its value in the creation of being, in the emergence of self-identity, and in a more fundamental, genuine life. Cast in this light, loneliness be-comes an illuminating experience and it leads to greater heights (p. 50). The Christian should be the first to recognize the deep truth in this phenomenological description. Is it not simply another of the myriad rich forms in which the paschal mystery presents itself? All genuine life is life-through-death. In proclaiming His way Christ was also disclosing the inmost law of human life. The freedom of vocation is not the freedom to evade this law, but the freedom to choose where we will experience it. We may be alone within a religious group or alone alongside a marriage partner or simply alone in the midst of the human crowd. But alone we shall be. Whether this death of aloneness becomes the resurrec-tion of love and relationship is the real issue. That will depend in any case on our willingness to accept the loneliness and in the acceptance to be raised beyond ourselves: Loneliness is as much a reality of life as night and rain and thunder, and it can be lived creativ~ely, as any other experience. So I say, let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness there is also sensitivity, and where there is sensitivity, there is awareness and recognition and promise. Being lonely and being relatedare dimensions of an organic whole, both necessary to the growth of individuality and to the deepening value and enrichment of friendship. Let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness, there also is love, and where there is suffering, there also is joy (p. 103). We all need acceptance and warmth and intimacy. Our religious group should at least make it possible for us to achieve it or else it is not a community at all, much less a Christian one. But the group can no more supply for the painful task of passing through the loneliness of self-acceptance, which is the price of self-transcendence, than could any marriage partner. That cup, and that privilege, is ours. Except that by an awesome mystery Christ has also made it His. + 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 ]5 GERALD~A. McCOOL, S.J. Commitment to One's Institute: A Contemporary Q estion Gerald McCool, S.J., is visiting asso-ciate professor of philosophy at Bos-ton College; Chest-nut Hill, Massa-cusetts 02167. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 The* question whether his institute as it concretely exists retains its right to bind his conscience is no longer a rhetorical one in the mind of many a religious subject. Directors of conscience who have been con-fronted with this question by religious of diverse ages in many different congregations are aware of this fact. They are also aware of their own increasing difficulty in finding satisfactory answers to the problems posed to them by religious concerning the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment to a concrete religious institute which even perpetual vows entail today. The origin of these problems is in part sociological. In-stitutes have changed radically in the past few years, and the rate of change has been uneven. Different groups in the same congregation look on the Church, the world, and religious institutes quite differently and entertain what seem at times irreconcilably diverse hopes for their future. Communal agreement is hard come by, and the unity in life and work which in the past contributed to a religious' sense of peace and se-curity no longer manifests itself on the empirical level. Naturally directors of conscience are not ignorant of the efforts being made by almost every institute to reach agreement on their basic religious and apostolic goals. They have learned during the past few years the im- * This article is a revision of a paper presented at the Seventh Biennial Institute in Pastoral Psychology, held at Fordham Uni-versity, June 16-20, 1969. In its present form it is focused more sharply on the current problem of commitment to one's own institute. The original paper, entitled "The Conscience of the Religious Subject," will appear in the forthcoming volume, Con-science: Its Freedom and Limitations ed. William G. Bier, S.J. (New York: Fordham University, 1970). portance of urging patience and charity on religious of all ages and persuasions. As defection rates increase, however, and morale problems become more grave, even in institutes which are going through the process of renewal, directors are becoming painfully conscious that much more is needed than exhortations to faith and supernatural hope in the future. Too many religious are beginning to question the assumption which under-lies such exhortations--the connection between God's personal call to them and their commitment to their institute. A genuine doubt 'is ~growing in their mind as to whether total commitment to their institute in the traditional sense is the more perfect form of Christian life today. Some may ask indeed whether the form of life led in their institute as it is, or promises to be in the immediate future, represents a truly moral way of living. These questions, of course, have been raised in the past. They recur at every period of trouble, re-newal, and reform in the Church and in religious life.1 That they should recur again today is in itself a cause for neither surprise nor disturbance. What is troubling, however, is the discovery on the part of religious and their directors that trenchant answers to them are so difficult to find. The New Situation in Religious Lile This inability to find a clear and persuasive answer to the contemporary difficulties concerning a religious' commitment to his institute does not come from simple failure of nerve, unimaginitive rigidity, or impatience at the rate of change, although these factors are opera-tive in the present crisis in religious life. It is rather the resultant vector of two forces whose interplay has still to be examined with sufficient care and penetra-tion: (1) the effect of institutional change on a subject's commitment to his institute in a period of open ended ecclesial evolution and (2) the powerful impact upon religious life of the theological pluralism which now exists, and will in all likelihood continue to exist, within the contemporary Church. The interplay of these two forces has created a new situation in religious life in which it is no longer possible for the individual re-ligious subject or his director to determine the nature, value, and obligation of his commitment to his in-stitute and to his fellow religious through a simple x St. Thomas replied to d~fficulties of this sort in his Summa contra Gentiles, III, 130-8. Suarez produced a similar defense at the time of the Counter-Reformation; see William Humphrey, Fran-cisco Suarez: The Religious State. A Digest o] the Doctrine Con-tained in His Treatise "De statu religionis'" (London: Burns and Oates, 1884). Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 application to his individual situation of the theology of the religious life which carried religious safely through the early years of the post-Vatican renewal.2 The existential development of religious life and the rapid evolution of theology have confronted the individual religious with a problem of conscience with which they cannot cope alone. The individual religious and his director require the aid of theologians and the help of their own institutes. And they will receive that help only if firstly institutes and theologians together accept the fact that the early post-Vatican period is over and that a new religious and theological situation is in existence now, and if secondly the institutes, with the careful help of theologians, make clear and definite decisions about their life and work based on an in-telligent commitment to a theology of the religious life which they accept. In the early years of post-Vatican renewal, the director of conscience found in the post-conciliar theology of the religious life a clear grounding of the supernatural value of the life of the counsels and an exposition of the relation of institutional structure to personal vocation. With their help he was able to work out a ~ For the influence of process thought on Catholic philosophy, see Leslie Dewart, The Future o] Belie] (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966) and the stimulating and provocative article of Eugene Fonti-helle, "Religious Truth in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 18 (1967), pp. 283-315. Its influence upon highly respected theologians can be seen in three important articles which appeared recently: Wilhelm Kasper, "Geschichtlichkeit der Dogmen," Stimmen tier Zeit, v. 179 (1967), pp. 401-16; Avery Dulles, "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), 397- 416; and George Vass, "On the Historical Structure of Christian Truth," Heythrop Journal, v. 9 (1968). For the newer approach in moral theology which will affect religious life, see George Curran, Christian Morality Today (Notre Dame: Fides, 1966) and Absolutes in Moral Theology (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). The Catholic theologian whose name is closely associated with the new theology of hope, esehatology, and earthly realities strongly influenced by the independent Marxist philosopher, Ernst Bloch, is Johannes B. Metz; see his Theology o] the World (New York: Herder and Her-der, 1967). These books and articles are simply a random sample of recent publications by serious and influential writers. There is no doubt that we are in a period of rapid and profound theological development. We must realize, however, that the process epistemol-ogy and metaphysics which are winning increasing favor with serious Catholic theologians does not simply call into question the philosophical grounding of the traditional Christian wisdom spir-ituality associated with the names of Augustine, Bonaventure, and Thomas, which underlies so many classics of the spiritual life; it also challenges the epistemological and metaphysical foundations of some of the most influential post-Vatican theology of the religious life, notably that of Karl Rahner. Ignorance of ~his fact can cause woe to an unwary retreat director, especially in communities of younger religious. It can also be a source of trouble for congrega-tions which are rewriting their constitutions. satisfactory understanding of the mutual obligations of subject and institute with which he could handle per-sonal problems of commitment in congregations as they then existed. This theology also enabled him to cope with the personal problems of the early post-conciliar years when many congregations dragged their feet in implementing the Vatican II reforms. It proved a rea-sonably satisfactory instrument for solving the prob-lems of individual religious in the later and more dif-ficult period of communal involvement in renewal in which community division with its consequent fear and hostility became a problem for many institutes. If we simply review the history of those stages in the evolution of religious life we may be able to see why the re-ligious and his director were able to deal with the question of religious commitment as an individual prob-lem then and why it is that today they are no longer able to do so. Post-Vatican Theology: Nature and Value o] Reli-gious Life Post-conciliar theology defended the value of the counsels as an integral part of the Church's eschatologi-cal witness and indicated the role which religious in-stitutions play as visible signs of her holiness,s In doing so it clarified the reasons which justify the renunciation of fundamental human goods through the three vows. It also explained the ecdesial basis for the authorita-tive specification of the religious life in institutes in which a life of rule is lived under the direction of re-ligious superiors. Religious belong to what Karl Rahner has called the charismatic element in the Church. Their conviction that God has called them to follow Christ in the re-ligious life is based on a non-formal process of in-ference which Saint Ignatius has called the discern-ment of spirits. Their decision to follow the divine invitation is freely taken. "Its motive is growth in the service of God and their neighbor and in the intimate union with God which Christian writers from patristic times have called holiness. The renunciation of earthly goods which the vows entail is justified because it is the manifestation of the Church's eschatological faith and hope. Through this renunciation religious institutes give living public witness to the Church's certitude that life's significance does not rest exclusively on the encounter with God in the use of His creation but on the lived 8See Karl Rahner, Theological Investigations, v. 3 (Baltimore: Helicon), pp. 58-104 and SchriIten zur Theologie:. v. 7 (Einsiedeln: Benziger, 1966), pp. 404-79. See also Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). ÷ ÷ ÷ Con~mltraent VOLUME 29, 1970 19 4, Gerald A. McCooi, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 hope of an encounter beyond the limits of space and time.4 A religious community in the visible Church is a response to a common charismatic call in which its members participate and which is the supernatural bond of their union. Since that call is given in the Church as a summons to give stable social witness to her holiness and hope, communal life of the counsels acquires visible form in the diverse religious institutes. Thus the interior charism unique to each institute finds the external expression through which it can be thema-tized and communicated; and the interior bond of charity which binds its members to God, to the Church, and to each other receives verbal expression in its con-stitutions.~ Consequently religious vows are not taken in vacuo. They are always taken in a specific institute whose constitutions thematize the charismatic vocation to which each religious commits himself. Through her approval of the constitutions the visible Church commits her-self to the religious as authentic witnesses of her life and hope. On the basis of this theological justification of the nature and value of the religious life, the religious sub-ject at the beginning o[ the post-Vatican renewal was able to set down some general principles for the forma-tion o[ his conscience in relation to his commitment to his institute and to the legitimate demands on him which followed from it. (1) His decision to follow the religious life is morally justified through its public eschatological witness and through its service to God in the life of His Church. Its nature is distorted and its moral value compromised if it degenerates into an irresponsible flight from par-ticipation in the world through fear or dislike of God's creation. From the theology of the free person in the Church it follows that an individual call to manifest her sanctity through the public witness of the counsels should come in every generation to a number of generous Christians. Not only may Christians be religious, some of them should be. (2) Although the constitutions of a religious institute are not identified with its common charismatic call, its inner spirit, and its internal bond of charity, the con-stitutions cannot be separated from them either--a fact * Rahner, Schrilten, v. 7, pp. 404-34. r We notice here the strong similarity between the relation established by Rahner in his spiritual theology between institutional structure and charismatic call and the relation established by St. Ignatius between religious rule and the interior law of charity in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. which Saint Ignatius saw most dearly. The constitutions of an institute are not purely juridical regulations with little or no relation to its interior spirit. They are the medium through which the religious vows can specify and maintain a perduring commitment to a common way of life. Consequently, superiors, in fidelity to God and to the Church, have an obligation to see that they are observed. For, if a way of life is allowed to grow up within an institute which is at variance with the specific manifestation of the. Church's holiness which it has been called to manifest, that institute has lost the supernatural justification for its existence. Thus com-plete freedom to follow individual decisions cannot be permitted to a subject in a religious institute. A Christian called to religious life is called to accept a limitation on his freedom through obedience to his institute and its superiors. ($) Furthermore, since he shares in a common charismatic call which is incorporated in a specific in-stitute, indications of the divine will should ordinarily come to him through his institute and its superiors. Although there can be legitimate conflict at times, it is hard to reconcile a religious vocation with the convic-tion that the subject must make every important decision on his own responsibility and that the moral authority of a religious superior is restricted to his right to offer counsel. As one religious order recently expressed it: "A man who, time after time, is unable to obey with good consdence, should take thought regarding some other path of life in which he can serve God with greater tranquility." 6 The theology of the religious life which flourished after the Council not only gave the religious subject a dearer picture of the nature and value of the religious life than he had previously possessed; it also provided him with the principles through which a number of the problems arising from the conflict between obedi-ence and his moral conscience could find an answer. A proper understanding of the theology of the religious life made it clear not only that the constitutions of an insitute specified the obligation of the subject but that they also specified and restricted the legitimate authority of his superior. Superiors may rule only in accordance with the constitutions; and, in an institute whose reason for existence is to manifest the Church's sanctity and supernatural hope, they must rule religiously. Through his vows the subject has acquired a claim upon the conscience of his superior. For he has received a per-sonal call from God to a life of individual witness and Society of Jesus, Documents of the Thirty.First General Congre-gation (Woodstock, Md.: Woodstock College, 1967), p. 55. 4. Commitment VOLUME. 29, 1970 21 + 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS service within a specific community. Not all of the de-mands which God makes on him can be determined by following uncritically in a quasi-automatic way the gen-eral orders of superiors. A number must be determined in-dividually by the discernment of spirits. Since the subject's vocation has been entrusted to his institute, he has the right to the personal direction and understanding of his superior in his efforts to discover God's personal will for him. The superior in turn has the inescapable obligation to provide it, and to provide it as a religious superior and not as the director of a secular enterprise. Further-more, a religious institute is a community of free in-dividuals within a visible Church to which they have a definite responsibility. God will inspire them through thoughts and desires to move their institute to greater service to His Mystical Body. As they are bound to communicate these thoughts and desires to their superiors, superiors, because of their responsibility to their institute and to the Church, are bound to listen to their subjects and to consult them individually and collectively. The "Relectant'" Stage oI Post-Vatican Renewal In the period immediately after Vatican II these principles were not the commonplaces they have long since become. Older religious can still recall the thrill of their discovery through personal reading or through the conferences of retreat masters. Government at that time often left much to be desired in many a religious institute. Superiors, who were at times quite ignorant of the theology of the religious life, ruled impersonally and on occasion gave the impression of a political mode of action which did not show the proper regard for the rights of the subject and the true interests of the universal Church. The problems of conscience which this mode of government created for intelligent, sensitive, and far-seeing religious are too well known to call for repetition here3 Nonetheless the informed religious subject or his di-rector felt that they could chart a reasonably clear course of action through which a subject could fulfill his personal call to genuine Christian life and activity in true commitment to his institute. Most of .the problems of that time, after all, were simply the result of a subject's living in an institute whose life and government were not in accord with the approved theology of the religious life. Subjects who were equipped to do so would work for the reform of their 7 For a well documented and frank account of these problems, see Robert W. Gleason, The Restless Religiou~ (Dayton: Pflaum, 1968). institutes through personal action. Others, while wait-ing [or the coming reform of their institute, could fre-quently solve their problems by using the principles of traditional moral theology concerning the reaction of a subject to an unjust command. Difficult as this period was psychologically, it was not a period in which the religious subject necessarily felt discouragement about the ability of the approved theology of the religious life to solve his present problems and bring about the eventual renewal of his institute. The Period o[ Rapid Evolution and Renewal After this initial period of hesitation and resistance, religious institutes entered into the general movement of renewal and reform to which each congregation was asked to contribute through a revision of its consti-tutions. As it proceeded, that task proved more diffi-cult than most religious anticipated that it would be. It was at that period that the beginnings of the present question of the commitment of the religious to his institute began to manifest itself. Once a movement of evolution and reform gets under way, commitment to the existing constitutions of an institute becomes provisional. It is---or was--assumed that in their re-vised form they will be a more exact expression of the present charismatic call which God is now addressing to the institute. Yet, since the constitutions specify the common commitment of the subjects to the insti-tute and to each other, their sudden mobility, after a long period of stability, has affected the bond of union in the evolving communities. Problems now arise in the conscience of the religious concerning his relation to his community and his fellow religious which were not there before. When the post-Vatican reform began it was rather generally agreed that the period of communal discern-ment of spirits would reach its consummation in a renewed institute to whose revised constitutions the individual subjects could commit themselves with peace of soul. But in a changing world and in a changing Church, who can say when the period of evolution will come to an even relative rest? And now that we are learning to think of God and His revelation in terms of process and event rather than of substance and stable judgment, can we any longer feel that stable constitu-tions are any longer desirable or even possible? Does not that make any set of constitutions provisory and relative? Furthermore, discernment of spirits is not an automatic process whose success is guaranteed. It is a delicate work of grace. Human resistance, weakness, and obtuseness can prevent it or delay it until the 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 4" "4" Gerald A. McCool, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "~4 kairos, the providential time allowed by God, has passed. Religious, both subjects and superiors, who are con-cerned with changes in the life and work of their institute know very well that the movement of renewal, like every human movement, is not the outcome of a simple impulse of the Holy Spirit but the resultant vec-tor of multiple and complicated forces. Secular ideas and desires are in the heart of every man. Worldliness and spiritual blindness will make their contribution to the movement too. That is why the process is called the discernment of spirits, and that is why, like every discernment of spirits, it is a risky business. In the process of discernment of spirits whose term is still undefined, an ambiguous situation is created concerning the very nature of the life to which the mem-bers of the institute have given their vowed commit-ment. If the present constitutions are to undergo revision, perhaps indefinitely, what is the subject's com-mitment to them in their actual form? If the institute should take a wrong turn or miss its kairos, what will be his commitment to the constitutions in the future? It would appear that the religious subject is invited to enter upon an indefinite process of judging his institute in its fidelity to the call of grace and that his individual judgment will have a radical effect upon his commit-ment. It is not surprising, therefore, that uncertainty about their future commitment to their institute has begun to trouble the consciences of many religious and that divergent hopes and fears concerning the form of its future life and work make them perplexed over the attitude which they are called to take in relation to their superiors and fellow subjects. At a time when the future of his institute is undefined, when should a superior or a fellow subject be deferred to as a religious who is exercising under grace his authentic call as a prophetic leader and when must he be resolutely and uncompromisingly opposed as a traitor to the institute? In what does loyal commitment to one's institute con-sist at the present time? What is charity, and what is selfish cowardly silence for the sake of peace and per-sonal survival? These are the difficult questions which the director of conscience is asked to solve time after time. The task of aiding the religious subject to discern the movement of the Spirit from the distorting influences of human infidelity, complacency, and weakness has been complicated by the rapid evolution of theology in the post-conciliar Church. The theology of the Church, of revelation, of grace and nature, has been the subject of considerable, and sometimes turbulent, debate dur-ing the past few years. The consequence has been a renewed discussion concerning the nature of Christian holiness, the force and duration of the vows, and the value of the witness of the counsels in their tradi-tional institutional form. This lively discussion cannot fail to call into question the fundamental understand-ing of the religious life which is taken for granted by many sets of constitutions. More may be involved than simple adaptation and renewal. Perhaps radical and total revision may be called for in the light of a newer theological understanding of the religious life. Should that be the case, what then becomes the status of loyal commitment to the constitutions of one's holy founder? Nevertheless, working on the principles of classical post-Vatican theology, the director of conscience felt until fairly recently that he was in a position to guide a religious toward the solution of his problems about commitment to a divided and changing institute. Since the Church had invited religious institutes to reform their constitutions, it was a safe assumption that many of them were no longer adequate expressions of the community's charismatic call. Furthermore, since com-munal discussion on various levels was the recom-mended means, there were good prima facie grounds for the assumption that the interplay of different points of view would be the means employed by the Holy Spirit to manifest the form of life and work to which the institute should now commit itself. Classical post-Vati-can theology also gave the reason why this process could be expected to lead to radical changes in some insti-tutes, s The type of religious life suited to monastic-contemplative communities is very different from that demanded by an active-apostolic group. The order and form of life and prayer, the religious virtues re-quired of subjects, the relationship between subject and superior differ widely in these two types of institutes. In the past this essential difference was not sufficiently appreciated, and active congregations, especially of women, received a set of constitutions which were not suited to their active life. In such groups we could an-ticipate great changes. Likewise we would expect that at a period in which the secular institute is coming into its own some institutes or groups within existing institutes would be moved by the Holy Spirit to adopt this form of life for their active apostolate. Church historians during the post-Vatican period of renewal reminded religious and their directors that ~ Orsy, op. cit., pp. ÷ 4- 4. ¢o~t VOLUME 29, 1970 25 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS movements of renewal and reform within religious groups were often the result of the work of charismatic leaders. And often the prophetic action of such leaders led to dissension and ultimate division in their own institutes. The work of the Spirit can be accomplished through bitter disagreement and ultimate division of groups which were once united. This was true of the divisions among the Franciscans and the Carmelites. It was true in the United States when the Paulists seceded from the Redemptorists to form a new congregation. On the basis of these historical and theological con-siderations, which are quite familiar to anyone who has even a general acquaintance with the post-conciliar literature, directors of conscience were able to derive a number of principles to handle problems of religious commitment in divided and evolving institutes. These prindples, which worked successfully and still retain a good deal of their validity, can be summed up as fol-lows. (I) Since it is not inconceivable that the interplay of conflicting hopes and fears which divide an institute may be destined by God to lead either to a painful but providentially destined division or to a dearer under-standing of the future form of life to which a united institute can commit itself, the individual religious sub-ject cannot deny in an a priori way that in the same congregation commitment to the institute and corre-spondence to their special grace may reveal itself in dif-ferent subjects through fundamentally different orienta-tions. Whatever may be the consequence which God ultimately intends, these diverse hopes and fears can be a faithful answer to a charismatic call which, for the moment, remains a common one. If they should lead to an ultimate division, the new institutes will be re-lated to each other through their origin in grace. They will be filial or sister institutes. (2) Therefore the individual religious subjects who find themselves in such an evolving situation are still united by the bond of fraternal charity and justice. Each is still called upon to contribute in the measure of his ability to the clarification of the future options which are emerging now. (3) Meanwhile the subject remains under the obedi-ence of the institute through whose constitutions his vocation is specified at the present time. Its rule, its superiors, and his fellow subjects retain the claim on him conceded to them by his vows. Since its mem-bers are being led to their future vocation through their present institute, ways of acting or of withdrawal from common activity which violate the justice and charity he owes them are not permitted to him. The New Situation in Religious LiIe Today, however, the director of conscience is begin-ning to wonder if it is safe for him to handle individual difficulties about religious commitment on the basis of these general principles. In the first place they are based on the theology of the religious life which is associated with the Constitution on the Church and the Decree on the Renewal o] the Religious Li]e for which he could once assume general acceptance among religious. In terms of that theology religious life is justified on the basis of its witness to the sanctity and eschatological hope of the visible Church. In the second place they rested on the assumption that unless there was striking evidence to the contrary each institute was passing through its providential kairos and was being led by God to its providential renewal or division. In the third place they took for granted that, unless clear evidence to the contrary existed, each religious could be assumed to have given a stable commitment to his institute and to his fellow religious, the nature and extent of which was given accurate expression through the constitutions. On the basis of that commitment, a supernatural bond existed among the members of the congregation. They were a family, a society within the Church with all the rights and expectations which membership within such a family entailed. It is becoming increasingly difficult for the religious subject or his director to make these assumptions as confidently as he did in the past; and if they cannot be made, the whole context within which problems dealing with religious commitment must be solved has been changed. There are many reasons for their present difficulty. To begin with, it is no secret that the movement of renewal is not going well. The defection figures are becoming alarming. Many religious, rightly or wrongly, seem to have reached the conclusion that in the movement of reform their institute has missed its kairos. Either it has failed to yield in time to the move-ment of the Spirit or it has yielded too much to the spirit of the world. In any event, these religious have decided that the form of life and work prescribed by their institute is no longer the way in which they can do the most for God. Other religious have withdrawn interiorly and made no secret of their withdrawal. Even though they remain within .the institute, they are alien-ated from it and leave their fellow religious uncertain about the depth, extent, and duration of their com-mitment to it. The longer the present unhappy stage of renewal continues with its increasing number of ÷ ÷ ÷ ~omm~ment VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ + 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS defections and interior withdrawals, the greater will be the uncertainty of the religious subject concerning the commitment of his fellow subjects and even of his su-periors. And, if he can no longer be certain that their actions are proceeding from commitment to the insti-tute. how should be behave toward them? Should he continue to deal with them in all simplicity as fellow religious? Or should he be prudent and follow the ordinary rules of political morality? Furthermore this disturbing ambiguity concerning his fellow religious' commitment to the institute does not come simply from ignorance of the judgment which they have made, perhaps definitively, about its [actual state. It also comes from uncertainty about the norm which they are using to measure its spiritual health and prospects for the future. Increasing theological di-versity, legitimate enough and even necessary within the larger body of the Church, is beginning to lead to di-versity among the members of the same institute con-cerning the nature and end of the religious life, the virtues which should characterize religious, the hope to which they witness, and the extent and duration of the commitment which they make to the community and consequently to each other through the three vows. That such diversity exists today among the mem-bers of religious groups is clear enough to anyone who has been engaged in the work of religious renewal. Often it lies beneath the surface, dividing religious who are not yet fully conscious of the depth and extent of their division. It shows itself, however, in retreats, in discussions, and in reflections about the formation of religious when different conclusions flow from dif-fering presuppositions which should be analyzed and clarified. Consequently, for many a religious subject his in-stitute has become a very unstable community. He has the uneasy feeling that its constitutions in their present form, even after their revision, and the style of life and work which its superiors prescribe or permit, through uncertainty, expediency, or a genuine desire to "paper over differences" for the sake of peace, no longer ac-curately express the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment which many of his fellow religious are making in reality to his institute in its actual, concrete form. Yet the commitment of his fellow religious creates the bond which makes the institute a living reality. Its duration makes the community a stable family; the depth, extent, and primacy which it occupies in a religious' life determines the depth and breadth of his association with his community and the priority which that association holds among the other commitments, professional and social, in his life. A notable change in the commitment of a significant number of individ-ual religious cannot fail to modify the nature of their institute. Thus, after a certain limit, ambiguity about the object, depth, and duration of its subjects' present commitment places the real nature of their institute in doubt. This doubt in turn creates a second doubt in the mind of the individual subject about his own obli-gation to the organization as it presently exists in the real order, and this doubt cannot fail to afl~ect his own commitment. Obviously this is an escalating process which, ultimately, can lead to a major change in an institute or even to its destruction. This agonizing doubt about the real nature of his institute today as a result of the change in the commit-ment of his fellow religious is the new problem of commitment which is troubling the peace and under-mining the vocation of many religious who weathered the storms of the earlier periods of renewal quite success-fully. This time, however, neither he nor his director can solve the problem by themselves with the resources which they now possess. The nub of the problem is a doubt which the religious cannot resolve himself. Since he cannot read hearts, he must be able to as-sume with reasonable probability that the vows as they are specified in his institute accurately express a genuine and stable union of minds and wills among its subjects. If he cannot make that assumption, he does not know what it is to which he has pledged him-self through his commitment to his community. Neither does he know what communal support, natural and supernatural, he may expect in return. Need to Eliminate Ambiguity To eliminate this ambiguity, or at least to reduce it to the proportions which are compatible with the existence of a viable religious community, existing in-stitutes, especially the larger ones, will have to confront more clearly, and perhaps more courageously than they have done so far, its two major sources: the uncertain relation between their constitutions and the genuine commitment of their subjects and the unanalyzed re-lation between their constitutions and the theology of the religious life on which they rest. Some institutes will be asked to examine more honestly their present state. Does their religious life as it is actually lived conform to the ideal which their institute proclaims? Prolonged compromise and delay of genuine renewal, even for apostolic and economic reasons, inevitably lead to ambiguity concerning the real commitment re-quired of a subject in the institute and can easily lead 4- 4- 4" Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 29 4. 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today to discouraged alienation among the young and generous. Other communities are being asked to ex-amine more carefully whether they are called to lead a contemplative or active-apostolic life. Although they are different vocations, both are viable. Is it not possible that in some institutes a division into separate groups following each of these vocations might be a healthy, and perhaps a necessary thing?9 Theological Pluralism and the Constitutions Because of the increasing theological diversity which is already affecting the Church of the present and which will mark the Church of the future even more pro-foundly, it will be necessary for each institute to clarify the theological suppositions which justify its basic choice of life and work. The development of philosophy and theology within the Church, the ihfluence of process philosophy and theology upon Catholic understanding of ecclesiastical structures and the formulation of doctrine, the impact of a newer understanding of the relation of grace and nature, of eschatology and earthly values upon Catholic understanding of the spiritual life have had their effect on religious' attitudes toward prayer, penance, action, contemplation, and service of the Church. That there is a diversity on many of these topics and that such diversity will continue is a fact that we must accept. That there will be and should be a much greater range of free opinions in the Church of the future is a position which most theologians accept today. And if such diversity means, as it seems it does, diverse understandings of the nature and value of re-ligious life, this is a fact which we must accept and whose implications we must analyze. When diverse theological opinions become free in the Church the right to live one's life in the light of them must be respected. If they are solid enough to base the commitment of a total life, the legitimacy of a religious institute based on them can hardly be denied. If, on the other hand, the solidity of opposed theological opinions remains strong enough to ground the commitment of a total Christian life, the legiti-macy of a religious institute grounded on them cannot be questioned either. Thus we may find in all likeli-hood that there will be in the Catholic Church re-ligious living accordingly to theologically diverse under-standings of the religious life. What would not make sense, however, is that they should be endeavoring to do so in the same institute. For it is difficult to under-o For a provocative discussion of this point, see Felix Cardegna, "Future Forms of Religious Life," Catholic Mind, v. 66, (1968), pp. 9-13. stand how constitutions embodying one fundamental conception of the religious life could thematize a com-mitment to an opposed one. Such constitutions would be simply a juridical form concealing basic differences. They could not be the vital expression of communal witness and spiritual unity. Consequently religious congregations, especially the larger ones which have the resources to do so, must examine very soon the theological presuppositions which lie at the basis of their constitutions. Do their con-stitutions express a conception of the religious life which is still viable and to which they wish to give the witness of their lives? I[ not, then they must change the constitutions, even though they express the dearest thought of the holy founder. If so, then they must spell out their fundamental theological position.s, even though there may be other opposed positions which are now free within the Church. If this is done, the individual subject will have a chance to see what it is to which the institute commits itself and to judge whether or not he wishes to make the same commitment. Retreat directors will have a better chance to help individual religious in their endeavor to find the will of God and novice masters will be in a better position to give solid answers to the reasonable questions of the young. This will not be an easy task. It will take openness, skill, and the employment of the best theological talent which a congregation has at its disposal. Its urgency, however, is becoming more apparent every day and we may anticipate that before long the general chapters and congregations of the larger congregations will be obliged to address themselves to it. 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 SISTER M. TERESANTA RYS, C.S.F.N Recreation, and Relaxation in Religious Life ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta writes from Marian Heights; 1428 Mon-roe Turnpike; Mon-roe, Connecticut 06468. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Psalmist says: "Have leisure and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). Recreation and relaxation presuppose leisure time. The term leisure will be used repeatedly in this paper and hence must be defined. The concept of leisure cannot be expressed in simple synonymous terms. To do so would be to risk misinterpretation. The explanation of the con-cept will form the introduction to this paper. Leisure, it must be clearly understood, is a mental and spiritual attitude--it is not simply the result of external fac-tors, it is not the inevitable result of spare time, a holiday, a weekend, or a vacation. It is, in the first place, an attitude of the mind, a condition of the soul, and as such is utterly contrary to the ideal of "worker" in each and every one of the three as-pects under which it was analysed: work as activity, as toil, as a social function. Leisure is a form of silence, of that silence which is a pre-requisite to the apprehension of reality: only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent do not hear.leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude, and it is not only the occasion but also the capacity for steeping one-sell in the whole of creation. - Leisure is not the attitude o[ mind o[ those who actively intervene, but o[ those who are open to everything? From the outset it can be seen that leisure is meant to lead us to God. This is not to imply that time, activities, and negative aspects as off-duty time and non-work activi-ties are not related to leisure.2 But these are not of its essence. Regarding the elements of time and activity, ". 1Josef Pieper, Leisure the Basis ol C, ulture, trans, by Alexander Dru (New York: New American Library, 1963), pp. 40-1. a See Roll B. Meyersohn, "Americans Off Duty," in Free Time: Challenge o] Later Maturity, ed. Wilma Donahue and others (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1958), pp. 45-6. leisure is unobligated time which can be spent in any way one wishes. It is supposed to be refreshing, diverting, and enriching, and what set of activities provides for such qualities is to be a matter of personal taste." s Philosophers, spiritual writers, and psychologists throughout the ages have acknowledged the predomi-nance of the divine motive in leisure, but at the same time they have emphasized the physical benefits as well. Plato, for instance, says: But the Gods, taking pity on mankind, born to work, laid down the succession of recurring feasts to restore them from their fatigue, and gave them the Muses, and Apollo their leader, and Dionysus, as companions in their feasts, so that nourish-ing themselves in festive companionship with the Gods, they should again stand upright an~erect.' One author paraphrased Thomas Aquinas' position on leisure by stating that the man who reasons and contem-plates "must occasionally relax the tension of reason by resting the soul. This rest of the soul is a form of pleasure.''5 Currently, Father Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., notes that man is a composite being--body, soul, mind, emotions. These work as a unity. Just as a body has need of refreshment, the emotions and mind need it, too. This refreshment they get from recreation.6 Because the world in which we live places so much value on work and activity, many persons, including religious, determine the worth of an individual by how much and how well she produces. Whatever is done must have a utilitarian purpose or it is worthless. The individual be-comes a functionary. This, in spite of the fact expressed by Alexander Reid Martin: So the poets and philosophers for thousands of years have agreed upon the supreme importance of leisure. But modern man apparently cannot avail himself of this blessing. With more leisure time available, there is a lessening capacity to en-joy it and to use it creatively and constructively. Modern man finds that he cannot relax to order.7 As religious who are pressed for time, zealous to do all we can to further God's glory through our various apostolates, we must beware of the fallacy of overwork. Throughout the Christian centuries we have become imbued with the idea that work is noble and good, and that it is through work that we will help achieve our sal-vation. Many of us have, as stated, accepted the fallacy of 8 Ibid., p. 48. ' Plato as cited by Pieper, Leisure, p. 19. ~ e Father Emmanuel, O.C.D., "The Need of Relaxation," Spiritual LiIe, v. 7 (1961), p. 222. ~ See Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., "Recreation in the Religious Life," Acta Records (Chicago: Acta Foundation, 1964). 7Alexander R. Martin, "The Fear of Relaxation and Leisure," American Journal o] Psychoanalysis, v. I1 (1951), p. 45. 4" VOLUME 29, 1970 + + 4. Siste~ Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the worth of an individual based on her ability to work. We have allowed ourselves to believe that unless we are occupied, we are wasting our time, we are allowing our-selves to be idle, and idleness is a breeding ground for the devil's wiles. Even our recreations have taken on a functionary air--the knitting to be done, the stockings to be darned, the papers to be corrected--all, so that we wouldn't waste timel Sixty years ago, Bishop John L. Spalding noted: We are too busy, we do too much. And the temper our rest-less activity creates makes us incapable of leisure, which is the end of work. The man is worth, not what his work is worth, but what his leisure is worth. By his work he gains a livelihood, but his leisure is given him that he may learn how to live, that he may acquire a taste for the best things, may acquaint himself with what is truest and most beautiful in literature and art, in science and religion, may find himself, not chiefly in the nar-row circles of his private interests, but in the wide world of noble thought and generous emotion? (emphasis added) There are some people who feel that leisure must be justified, for example, we relax or take recreation in order to work more efficiently or in order to restore our strength and energy. This is to revert to pragmatism. Joseph Pieper, a philosopher of our day, notes that how-ever much a person may restore health and energy through leisure, this is not primary, because leisure, like contem-plation, is of a higher order than the active life, and this order cannot be reversed. No one who looks to leisure simply to restore physical, mental, or spiritual powers, will ever enjoy the real fruits of it. He states: The point and justification of leisure are not that the func-tionary should function faultlessly and without a breakdown, but that the functionary should continue to be a man --and that means that-he should not be absorbed in the clear-cut milieu of his strictly limited function; the point is also that he should retain the faculty of grasping the world as a whole and realizing his full potentialities as an entity meant to reach wholeness? The philosopher elaborates this point and states that celebration is the soul of leisure and that since it is so, the justification and possibility of leisure is the same as that of celebration of a festival--and that basis is divine worship.1° The history of religions concurs in this judge-ment: whether in the days of Greece and Rome or in the Christian era, the "day of rest" was a day reserved for divine worship. This time was withdrawn from any specif-ically utilitarian ends: Separated from the sphere of divine worship, the cult o| the s Bishop John L. Spalding, "Work and Leisure," Spiritual Lile, v. 10 (1964), p. 78. ~ Pieper, Leisure, p. 44. lo See ibid., p. 56. divine, and from the power it radiates, leisure is as impossible as the celebration of a feast. Cut off from the worship of the divine, leisure becomes laziness and work inhuman. The vacancy left by absence of worship is filled by mere kill-ing of time and by boredom, which is related to inability to enjoy leisure; for one can only be bored if the spiritual power to be leisurely has been lost.~ Fear of Relaxation Before proceeding to the practical application of the above stated principles, it may be well to examine more specifically why religious tend to have what amounts to a fear of relaxation and recreation, why they tend to be so utilitarian in their outlooks. Many pre-Vatican II constitutions, in the chapters deal-ing with recreation, did stress the importance of partici-pation. Many encouraged religious to occupy themselves with handiwork, which supposedly gave them a sense of satisfaction in contributing to the common good even dur-ing hours of recreation (as though their conversations, their interest in fellow religious were not a form of contributing to the common good). One may ask how a person could give undivided attention to another when she was busy darning or embroidering? Father Kevin O'Rourke notes that individual religious must contrib-ute to community recreation--it is a time of giving our-selves to others and hence an obligation in charity,x2 Although the Vatican Council did not say a great deal about the recreation of religious as such, it did note in the Decree on the Ministry and Life o[ Priests that they should "readily and joyfully gather together for recreation." 13 And Pope Paul, in Ecctesiae sanctae, ex-plaining Per[ectae caritatis, notes that with regard to the order of the day: "Religious. should also have some periods to themselves and be able to enjoy suitable recrea-tion." 14 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that our novitiate training, the customs of communities, and the consti-tutions have taken their toll regarding attitudes toward recreation and relaxation. Because of these influences, many religious experience guilt feelings regarding the use of leisure: When we are not busy, we feel guilty. We are torn between hours spent efficiently organizing our lives and the minutes we set aside to waste. For many regard recreation as a waste of time ÷ and have devised ways of relaxing while washing the car or en- + 4. u Ibid., p. 59. ~ O'Rourke, "Recreation." ~ Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents o! Fatican H (New York: Guild Press, 1966), p. 551. "Paul VI, ~tpostolic Letter Ecclesiae Sanctae (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1966), p. 34. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1~70 35 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gaging in strenuous exercise. Indeed we are still men who lead lives of quiet desperation. Perhaps I should feel guilty not because I have done too little but because I have tried to do too much. Unlike the poet, I have been so busy that I have lost my playful sense of wonder. I have forgotten to accept myself as I am and have been driven to exhaustion by futile strivings to be someone else. That is why I cannotpray, forprayer involves, a turning of my whole being toward the Lord~(emphas|s added). Some people can rest and relax on holidays and during rest periods set aside for this purpose, only when they are told to do so. They cannot permit themselves to stop, bu~ rely 'on outside authority--they are victims of a com-pulsive, authoritative regime, which can be either inner or outer or both. "In any case, a system of bargaining develops. Work and play become part of a reward and punishment philosophy. Rest is something that has to be earned. All of this smacks of a philosophy dominated by a God of vengeance Of the Old Testament and not of the God of mercy of the New Testament." 10 Some individuals relax only when they have some physical illness, because then they feel justified. The problem of retirement is closely allied to this. Some persons refuse to give up, because they feel they are letting the community down. When they are all but forced to retire, there may follow a rapid disintegration of the whole personality--organic, emotional, intellectual, and moral, because the person's phil6sophy of life prohibited true, healthy relaxation and the creative use of leisure time.17 To return to generalities, there always exists the dan-ger of allowing the sister's work to dominate her life; this isespecially true when she likes the work she is engaged in. Everything is controlled by the task to be performed--even when she recreates, she does so in order to function more effectively, and recreation otherwise becomes meaningless (as does prayer, incidentally). Be-fore long, her specialty pervades every aspect of her life, and she becomes enslaved to one view. Such a sister must take care to place work in its prdper perspective in the totality of her religious life. Work may lead us to God, but it may also distract us from Him. To maintain this proper perspective, prayer and meditation are essential,is Those who tend to be busybodies would also do well to recall a study made by E. D. Hutchinson on the bio-graphical data of many creative minds--poets, authors, composers, and so forth. He found . that the experience of sudden creative insight never oc- ~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 114-5. Martin, Fear of Relaxation, pp. 43-4. See ibid., p. 44. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 116-7. curred during the peak of mental effort, but always during a period of relaxation . in general, Hutchinson f,o, und that following a long period of what he calls "obsessional preoccu-pation with a problem, during which nothing was accomplished and there was considerable frustration, the creative thinker relinquished the problem completely. After he had relinquished this compulsive preoccupation for a period of weeks or months, the whole answer would come to him out of the blue. Hutch-inson calls this period of relaxation the period of renunciation of the problem.~ Scripture supports this contention: "The wisdom of the scribe cometh by his time of leisure; and he that is less in action, shall receive wisdom" (Sir 38:25). The pejorative significance of the inability to be leisurely and to relax is also impressed on the person's inability to rest, even in sleep. Some people feel they always have full command of their senses, which causes tension. When sleep is related to this compulsive feeling of having to be alert, it surely cannot be a means of re-laxation. It may also be pointed out that the fear of relaxation is typical of people who are unwilling to depend on others for anything--their independence becomes compulsive, and it is sometimes paraded as the virtue of self-reliance or .individuality. Such compulsive independence is indi-cative of self-distrust, actually, and of the inability to truly relax because of the imminence of intense emo-tional conflicts,a0 Those who feel that they must always be busy in some "useful" activity are the ones who subscribe to the idea expressed in the saying: "Satan finds mischief for idle hands to do." The idea of keeping busy to keep out of trouble expresses it similarly. This attitude shows itself in the person's inability to play and to ~,ork in a leisurely way. Again, those who are dependent upon a fixed routine or schedule indicate the presence of internal conflicts. The routine is self-imposed and they either comply or defy it, but they are not free. Hence, they. are unable to truly relax and use leisure time creatively. To them, leisure is always freedom [torn something, not freedom [or something.21 Such persons put themselves into straigh~ jackets and do not want to be free, to act on their own, because in doing so, they set inner conflicts into motion. Leisureliness in Work Binding ourselves to work is binding ourselves to a utilitarian process in which our needs are satisfied. Our whole lives are consumed by this process. We must ask ~Martin, Fear o[ Relaxation, p. 44. ~See ibid., p. 46. ~See ibid., p. 48. 4. + 4. Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~8 and answer the question: What causes a person to be so bound, and how can she free herself? Joseph Pieper an-swers: . to be tied to the process of work may be ultimately due to inner impoverishment of the individual: in this context everyone whose life is completely filled by his work (in the special sense of the word work) is a proletarian because his life has shrunk inwardly, and contracted, with the result that he can no longer act significantly outside his work and perhaps can no longer conceive of such a thing~ (emphasis added). And now, what can be done about the problem? Much, of course, depends upon the willingness of the individual to admit to herself that she is so addicted, to whatever de-gree. Without this admission, there can be no cure. Once this is made, the individual must enlarge the range of interests she has. She must learn to make leisureliness a part of her life and not limit herself only to work-related interests. But "the provision for an external opportunity for leisure is not enough; it can only be fruitful if the man himself is capable of leisure, and can, as we say, 'Occupy his leisure' or. 'work his leisure'." ua Of course, it does little good to tell a person, or for a person to tell herself, that she must not have guilt feelings or fear of relaxation. There must take place concrete efforts at relaxation and recreation--the way to develop a sense of leisure is to be leisurely. Initially, the guilt feelings will remain and may, indeed, occasion more guilt and fear. But it is only in repeated efforts and with the encouragement of someone who appreciates the value of recreation ". that I can hopefully come to appreciate the need for worthwhile recreation to sustain the religious values upon which I have grounded my life." ~4 When one is able to recreate well, one is able to pray and work well. A well-balanced, mature personality will be the conse-quence. Finally, "when the individual is able to say and to feel that convention, schedule or routine is his slave, then the compulsive needs to defy, comply, or rebel do not arise, and healthy relaxation and leisure become possible." :5 Prayer and Education Throughout this paper thus far, it has been stated that leisure is a spiritual attitude, that leisure is of a higher sphere than activity, that leisure is justified by divine worship, and that prayer is necessary to maintain a proper balance between work and leisure. It would seem from this that leisure is closely related to our prayer life. Per- Pieper, Leisure, pp. 50-1. Ibid., pp. 54-5. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 117. Martin, Fear o/Relaxation, p. 48. haps as religious we ought to delve more deeply into this aspect of leisure. "Prayer requires leisure, and it ought to become our leisure." ~0 Again, this presupposes that we know what leisure is. Here especially we should note that neither prayer nor leisure are utilitarian. Both prayer and leisure are those times when we need not try, but simply be hu-man, as perfectly human as possible.27 During these times we can simply be ourselves, and not be striving to be someone else, or to be striving to measure up to some goal. Forcing artificial prayers into our minds is not praying in a leisurely way. We must learn to allow the Holy Spirit to pray in us as He wills. Prayer affords us with the opportunity to get rid of preoccupations. Simply going over the day or some plans, while keeping in mind that these are for the Lord, consti-tutes prayer, and is an excellent means of banishing pre-occupations. Preoccupation with work, recall, leads to compulsive action and an inability to be leisurely; by the same token, it leads to an inability to pray: "Activism and its roots are as much in a lack of leisure as a lack of prayer." ~s Accepting prayer as leisure will help us to relieve our daily tensions; but this can be only if we do not regard leisure and prayer as a duty or as a means of relieving ten-sion. By just praying or recreating, we ease tension. And, of course, this will redound to the benefit of the commu-nity in which we live. Carrying the idea of prayer as leisure a step further, we can see a relationship between a Mass and a commu-nity recreation well celebrated. For in the Mass there is a dialogue between God and His people. There is commu-nication. Now, recreation to be really recreative must involve communication, too: "It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community." .oa So, if we personalize the community recreation, if we "celebrate" it in a leisurely way, we are preparing ourselves for a personalized celebra-tion of Mass. It was noted that the task of education is to help in-dividuals to an awareness and appreciation of what is best in our culture, because in doing so, we are aiding them in acting more perfectly human. Some authors question -~ David B. Burrell, C.S.C., "Prayer as Leisure," Sisters Today, v. 37 (1965-6), p. 410. ~See the re[erences first given in notes 1, 15, 26. = Burrell, "Prayer as Leisure," p. 413. n Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C., "Community Exercises in Religious Life," REvmw for RE~.lcloos, v. 21 (1962), p. 337. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 39 Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS whether we should classify any aspect of leisure, recre-ation, or relaxation as "better" or of a higher type. This is not intended. What is meant is simply that, because appreciating such things as art, music, drama, and litera-ture involves the use of our more perfect faculties, they are of a higher class than those involving the use of less perfect faculties. Nor is it intended to imply that either use of leisure time is to automatically be exclusive of the other at all times. Once. again, leisure time should be spent so as to add to one's total personality--but let us not forget that this includes, most importantly, our spiritual and intellectual stature: "Leisure time, profitably employed, should bring every Sister to a consciousness of the reality of God, whether it be through listening to beautiful music, look-ing at an art object, or reading a literary work that ex-plores the depths of the human heart." a0 The type of education that an individual receives will affect her attitudes toward leisure. Consequently, it ought to be our endeavor to give our Sisters a very liberal educa-tion, both formal and informal. Certainly, in today's world, we need specialists in the field of education. But those chosen as such must be careful lest their specialty become their all-consuming interest. And those not chosen to specialize in a given subject, must avoid the error of not being interested in a given field--be it music, art, literature, or whatever--because then they would fail to enrich themselves. Communities must be sure to provide sufficient opportunities for their members to develop their potentialities and interests, lest these be allowed to atrophy. If the sisters have sufficient leisure time and adequate opportunities, more of them should become more original and creative. They will con-seqfently become more perfectly developed as whole persons. The typ~ of education our sisters receive ".must offer them access to the wealth of thinking and specula-tion, to the arts and sciences, that lie at the basis of the best in our culture . The goal of education should not be so much to teach as to offer the opportunity to ex-perience growth of the total personality, including, of course, exercise of the mind and the aesthetic skills." 31 Only then can we justly expect them to make good use of their time, both on the job and off it. And we shall be acting to prevent many problems which inevitably arise =Sister Marian, I.H.M.~ "Leisure Time: A Spiritual Asset or Liability," REVIEW FOE KEL~CIOUS, V. 20 (1961), p. 365. =George Soule, "Free Time--Man's New Resource," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. 75-6. in later years when persons have not learned how to act leisurely. We must be honest and admit that many sisters look upon leisure, recreation, and relaxation as an escape from.the toils of the day or from the monotonous exist-ence some may have to endure for various reasons. And so, it would seem, they quite naturally turn to the ever increasing viewing of television, listening to "light" music, or reading pseudosophisticated reading material found in some current magazines, all of which require little mental exertion. Education plays an important role in aiding sisters to become selective in the type of activi-ties chosen for use in their leisure. Otherwise, the sister ". will never become the educated, cultured woman her profession as educator on any academic level demands; much less will she furn out to be the mature religious woman who can say without any reservation, 'I live, yet it is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me'." as Some may object, stating that they have not been thus educated or trained. The community may then choose to conduct workshops for this purpose, using their own sisters whose profession has trained them to be knowledge-able in the various fine arts. Sisters themselves could con. verse with these professionals and learn to be selective. Not liking to read, listen to good music, or view art is not really reason enough not to engage in these activities. Sisters must learn that they can acquire a taste for them. Granted, this is not easy; it depends upon the willingness of the individual and her repeated efforts. The cultivation of an interest in the arts is as much her responsibility as the understanding and skill she is required to have in her profession. I[ there is a separation between the cultured professional and the zealous religious, the inevitable resuh is a divided personality.33 Finally: Religious women must be women of discernment. They must come to see and be convinced that compartmentalization of their minds interferes with their raison d'~tre--that of trans-forming themselves into souls owned by Christ and changed into Him. Their recognition of the genuine values inherent in the good use of leisure time, will, in reality, bring them closer and closer day by day to an adherence to the truth, and to the One who is Truth Itself.** Once again, this is not to imply that physical activities ÷ are never to be used, nor that leisure is not ever meant for ÷ simpler types of relaxation. These are needed, too, be-cause they fortify both mind and body by not making difficult demands on either. ILei~re, Sister Marian, "Leisure Time," p. 365. See ibid., pp. 370-1. Ibid. VOLUME 2% 1970 41 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Play Under the general heading of "play" we can develop many ideas. ]?or example, our work may become play-- when we aquire a relaxed attitude toward it as opposed to compulsive preoccupation: "Enjoyment comes from doing the best I can without the anxious feeling that I must do everything or be dubbed a failure. The fact that I reserve time for living the inactivity of recreation gives me the presence and peace of mind I need to respond fully to the moments." 36 The Sacred Scriptures have repeated incidents of play: God created the sea, with all its schools of fish and many ships, "to make sport of it" (Ps 103:25-6); exegetes of the Bible apply the passage from Proverbs 8:27-31 describing an observer of creation to Mary who "was delighted every day, playing before him at all times, playing in the world: and my delights were to be with the children of men"; and, of course, there is the famous incident of David playing and dancing before the ark of the covenant (1 Chr 15:29). Perhaps we should take the example, lest we take our work too seriously and it make us its slave and we become proud and self-sufficient. We must be serious about our work to a point--but, then, we must find enjoyment in it.3n Because play involves successes and failures, it helps a person to adjust to these in the more serious business of li[e. Because it teaches the person to "rub elbows" or socialize, play teaches teamplay: The experience and training received in good play are indis-pensable to the well-adjusted individual . Play is training in ajpplication and concentration, and it is training, in socializa-aon. ;. There is no better means o[ turning interest away from self and such unhealthy things as phantasy and self-centeredness toward the objective world of-things and people than absorption in play . Play. is an indispensable train-ing in the serious work oF lifeY The primitive drive of aggression in an individual adult is satisfied for a part in work and education. But not all excess energy and aggression can thus be diverted. Another outlet is found in play. Besides providing such an outlet, play teaches us to overcome dislikes and hatreds which may otherwise develop to unreasonableness. Unless excess aggresiveness and energy are released in some beneficial manner, it will produce mischief and mental illness.3S The discussion on play quite naturally brir~gs to mind a~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. I13. so Mehr, "Community Exercises," p. 338. S~Arthur Timme, "The Significance of Play and Recreation in Civilized Life," Mental Hygiene, v. 18 (1934), p. 54. ~ See ibid., pp. 54-6. other, more active forms of recreation and relaxation. It should be understood that active leisure applies to all. Some would tend to limit it to chronologically young persons. Perhaps a bit of an explanation would be useful, especially when we recall that Alexander Reid Martin warned that unless a person learns to use leisure properly, she may experience a rapid disintegration of her person-ality once leisure is more or less forced upon her. Actually, it is unfair to label an individual by age, be-cause it deprives her of equality. Thus labeled, a sister is judged, not by her personal qualities or lack or them, but by what is expected of her because of her particular age. George H. Soule notes that no one has yet exactly pin-pointed the essence of aging, either physiologically or psychologically, but that most experts agree that the differences within an age group are far greater than differ-ences between age groups.3~ To be arbitrarily placed in a group often leads to a person's reacting as expected, and this in turn influences the deterioration spoken of, at whatever age level. Generally speaking, however, youth can and does find opportunities for recreation and relaxation. There re-mains the danger of being overzealous and overambitious and of acquiring a sense of responsibility that they must take on added burdens as the congregation's median age rises. Of this, the young must beware--they, too, must develop leisureliness, which will not allow them to be-come preoccupied in any endeavor. The ability to be leisurely and to be able to recreate ourselves should be grasped by middle age, because . by this time most of us have reached a plateau in our jobs or professions. This is not to suggest that, t~or the specially qualified or generally ambitious, there are not further peaks to be climbed. But for the generality of us, I think, we have probably attained the peak of our job or career, and it is time to relax. We can still do our da),'s work, honesdy and competently. But we can also start thinking of our souls. By thinking of our souls I am not speaking purely in a religious sense, though I would not for a moment discount the importance of that. I am thinking rather of a reexamination of ourselves as individuals and of our lives up to this pointwto what extent we have found meaning and to what extent we have failed to find meaning, and then to realize quite soberly that this comparative leisure we have earned may stretch on for us for perhaps another quarter of a century.'° Normally, because an individual has achieved her work goals by middle age, she also derives most satisfactions from it during these years. Thes~ satisfactions she usually shares with the community, and the community should be a~ Soule, "Free Time," p. 62. 4°Clark Tibbits, "Preface," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. xi-xii. ÷ 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 43 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS an in~entive for the individual to advance herself even more.41 But once again the sister should beware of be-coming too engrossed in her work and her own personal satisfactions, because this. will narrow her other interests. Then, when she later becomes less efficient and no longer gets such satisfactions, she will have little to go back on: "We are told that people stranded without interest goals, who seem to have no rationale of existence, often become frustrated and lapse into physical or mental illness." 42 This applies to any age group, but since satisfactions are greatest in middle age, perhaps this is the most dangerous age in regard to the fallacy of overwork and underplay. The so-called senior members of the community should not, by any means, be excluded from active leisure-time activities. It is most important that these sisters be kept active and creative, since their physical ability to work is limited, as is their sphere of interests. The community must make special provision for an organized leisure-time program for these members above all. It would be well if they had some professionally trained sisters to accomplish this. More and more colleges are providing courses in recreation leadership, because of the demand in society for such individuals. Surely, it would be to the community's advantage to have such trained personnel. These same sisters could conduct workshops for the local homes and offer suggestions as to how recreation periods could be more relaxing and more beneficial: "Sound rec-reation programs may promote good will, tolerance and understanding, and may improve societal relationships, all of which are significant to the maximum develgpment of personality." 4a Concerning the use of leisure time by all age groups, we find that all activities fall into one or more of the following categories: social and cultural advancement, creative expression, entertainment, recreation, personal development, fostering life, creative maintenance, and classification and ordering.44 These groups of activities bring about certain desired effects: diversion, which counters self-center~dness; expression, which reverses feel-ings of frustration; the struggle ]or survival, useful against regression; creativeness, a method of liberating thwarted instincts; membership, which combats feelings of iso-lation and lonesomeness; participation, to maintain a ,1 Nels Anderson, Work and Leisure (New York: Free Press, 1961), p. 180. '~ Ibid., p. 257. *a Raymond A. Snyder and Alexander Scott, Pro/essional Prepara-tion in Health, Physical Education, and Recreation (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1954), p. 5. ~See Maurice E. Linden, "Preparation for the Leisure of Later Maturity," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, p. 89. sense of self-esteem; social acceptableness, to help main-tain a good self-image; recognition, which counteracts embitterment; meaningfulness, to aid in establishing the true value of nature and life; contemplation, which con-tributes to effective judgmental functioning; sharing, to aid in improving a person's opinion of herself; and simple enjoyment of living.4~ The achievement of the above mentioned effects, certainly, will contribute to a more perfect personality. All of them result from the proper use of leisure activities. All o£ them can be achieved by any individual who de-sires to do so. But some may ask for more concrete exam-ples of how to acquire these abstract values. There are any number of ways, of course, and each way must be suited to the individual, who must consider her own physical and psychological needs. In selecting recrea-tional activities, the sister should always keep in mind that which will give her the most satisfaction at a given time. The activity in which she can best create, achieve, find beauty, fellowship, and relaxation, is of more lasting value than one which yields only one or two satisfac-tions. 46 Following is a list of activities which might be engaged in by sisters. The list is only suggestive, and not all-inclu-sive. It is offered merely to aid sisters in selecting activi-ties to make their leisure time more profitable. Active games and sports: Dodge bail, relays, softball, basketball, bowling, volleyball, rope jumping, bicycle riding, swimming, ice skating, and calisthenics. Social activities: Card games, barbecues, parties for special occasions, puzzles, dancing, and various table games (scrabble, parchesi, monopoly). Music: A cappella choirs, action songs, community singing, instrument playing, composing music, listening groups, music appreciation courses, music study groups, and music instruction. Arts and crafts: Drawing, carving of various kinds (soap, wood, and so forth), needlework, painting, paper craft, and sewing. Drama: Theatre attendance, charades, choral speech, creative dramatization, and song impersonations. Nature and outing activities: Excursions or trips to art museums and to places of religious or historic interest; flower arrangement; gardening; and nature study, col-lection, and identification. Literary, languages, and related activities: Creative writing, lectures, reading, mental games, radio and tele- ~ Ibid., pp. 89-92. ~See George D. Butler, Introduction to Community Recreation, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967), p. 240. This book is highly recommended to anyone interested in recreation leadership. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1970 45 ÷ ÷ ÷ vision programs° and study groups in literature or lan-guage. Seroice activities: Directing glee club, orchestra, dra-matic groups, assistance in organizing holiday celebra-tions, and assistance in public relations programs. The preceding list should at least indicate the wide diversity of activities which bring satisfaction and re-laxation to various individuals.4; If there is a recreation leader, she should be sure to consider differences in age, interest, skills, place available, time, size of the group, and the funds necessary and available.4s Having a recrea-tion leader, whether on a local, regional, or provincial level, would surely enhance the recreation program. It would be more organized and more e~cient and con-sequently more beneficial to those involved. Special mention must be made of vacations as a form of leisure. Recently, communities have increased the length of vacation periods and have relaxed regulations governing the way vacations are to be spent. Actually, nothing in canon law regarding religious specifies that a religious must have a vacation, but it seems that some kind of vacation is a normal requisite for an individual. It is doubtful that visits to one's family and relatives should be counted as a vacation, because these are often marked by strenuous activity and loss of sleep, so they are not physically relaxing. Even if they provide relax-ation, they can hardly be considered a religious vacation: "A vacation for religious should serve the purpose of intensifying the community spirit.'° 49 A vacation should be taken in a place away from the regular religious houses, where sisters could get together to rest, play games, and get to know one another: "In relaxation and recreation the religious see one another in a new light, and often discover remarkably fine qual-ities that they never knew existed. In my opinion there is nothing like a good community vacation for fostering a good community spirit." 50 It is recognized by superiors and sisters that all of this is true and good, but obstacles, especially financial ones, will always remain. Nonethe-less, everything possible should be done to carry out a vacation program. Regarding the idea of individual religious saving gifts or offerings to pay for the vacation, it would seem con-trary to present canon law which states that gifts received by an individual become the property of the institute. Even if the religious asks permission, the asking of per- Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 See ibid., pp. 253-8. See ibid., pp. 264-72. Questions on Religious LiIe (St. Marys, Kansas: R~wEw FOR R~.mious, 1964), p. '112. Ibid., p. 113. missions usually pertains to what the religious needs, not what she desires. It the community permits sisters to make trips and visit their families, the community should pay the expenses. The community ought not insist upon or condone a policy of those who get the money, get the trips:51 Common life also requires that, generally spe.aking, equal opportunities be given to members of a commumty. Hence a superior could allow the members of his community to make a pious pilgrimage provided that he supplied the necessary ex-pense money for such members of his community as do not have relatives or friends who are willing to pay for them.~ However, as witnesses of the poverty of Christ, religious themselves should not desire unduly long and expensive vacations, for poor persons are unable to take such vacations. For Senior Sisters The final part of this paper will be devoted to the area of leisure, recreation, and relaxation for senior sisters. Of course, what has already been stated applies to all sisters, seniors included. But it cannot be denied that these sisters need and deserve special treatment; hence, aspects of leisure which pertain specifically to them will be treated separately. The senior sister as a member of society has, like most others, leaned on her role as worker. All other roles-- friend, citizen, adviser--revolved around her worker role in life. When she retires, she must learn to use her time and place her values differently, because new relation-ships to persons and things develop. "If mental and physical deterioration are to be avoided, new interests and new goals must be found, or old interests and aspira-tions rediscovered . The recreation program offers a fruitful means of satisfying activity for them." 53 As with everyone else, however, the primary responsi-bility for appropriate use of leisure rests with the sister herself. There are some recommendations that will help her to benefit from her new-found role. As suggested by Dr. Maurice E. Linden, these are: (I) Continue to develop your resources. Contrary to popu-lar opinion, the human m~nd continues to develop its capacity well into the seventh and eighth decades. (2) Increase your social effectiveness. Because older people have fewer human drives to contend with, they can channel their energy, thus becoming more socially effective. (3) Enjoy your wisdom. It can be a great source of gratifica-tion now, formerly denied because of inexperience. ¯ t See ibid., pp. 64-5. ~ Ibid., p. 63. ~Arthur Williams, Recreation in the Senior Years (New York: National Recreation Association Press, 1962), p. 18. VOLUME 2% 1970 + ÷ ÷ Siste~ Te~esanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 (4) Advance the tenets of human progress. The experience of the older mind gives it the capacity to diStinguish the good from the bad, thus enabling the community to preserve values built up over a period of time. (5) Externalize your interest. As a result of many successes in life, the older person should have the ability to be less selb centered an.d more interested in other people. (6) Place your value in quality. Again as a result of experi-ence, the older mind is capable of seeing the intrinsic value in both persons and things, and those formerly considered insig-nificant now are appreciated. (7) Don't be a spendthrift of time. Maturity enables a per-son to appreciate the value of time and aids her in spending it profitably. (8) Make your human relationships durable, It is a quality of a mature person to be unswerving in devotion to persons and to principles. (9) Don't capitalize on dependency. It is a responsibility of the young to care for the old; but well-adjusted older persons prefer to be as independent as they are capable.of being. (10) Exercise judicious independence. It is unwise to with-draw from the currents of daily life and thus deny the young people the benefit of accumulated experience and knowledge ~" These are just some suggestions that senior sisters may find helpful. It would seem that they are striving to ad-just to their situation. The communities must do all that is possible to aid these sisters, through the establishment of an effective program for the use of leisure. As men-tioned, more than in other groups, there is a definite need for trained personnel for this program. There is a need for a varied program, suited to the individual sister: "Diversity is the keynote of the per-manently successful program." 55 The program should be so planned as to include every sister. And every sister should be encouraged to participate, guarding against the tendency to just sit and watch. But her participation must be voluntary. Only in this way will her real abilities shine forth, and only in this way will she give vent to self-expression. Above all, if the program for the aging sisters is to be successful, it should be designed to improve community living. Those charged with developing the program must have confidence in the senior sisters and must be cognizant that ". older people can learn new skills, but., they learn more slowly and need to engage in recreational activities at their own pace." 56 Dr. Carol Lucas con-ducted a pilot program of study at Columbia University and authored a book in which a recreation program for ~ Linden, "Prep

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

Issue 34.2 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right Q 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or mgney order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to p~rsons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor March 1975 Volume 34 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard.; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Typical Constitutions Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., a specialist in canon law for religious, is a member of the Jesuit Community at St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. INTRODUCTION 1. Plan. The purpose of the present work i~ to facilitate the writing of constitutions of congregations of sisters. It is in fact a typical set of con-stitutions and consists of three parts: I. Spiritual, which is a topical list of spiritual matters for the articles of the first and purely spiritual part of the con-stitutions. Legal norms and details are excluded from this part. 11. Legal, the more important legal articles of congregations of sisters, and these are to make up the second part of the constitutions. III. Statutes, which are not part of the constitutions. These consist of the lesser legal norms to which are to be appended the enactments of general chapters and the ordinances of superiors general. The present work is baled primarily on "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," Review for Religious, 25 (1966), 361-437, also ob-tainable as a reprint from Review for Religious; secondarily on "Proper Juridical Articles of Constitutions," ibid., 27 (1968), 623-32; and lastly on "Constitutions without Canons," ibid., 452-512, which also contains a hand-book of the canons that apply to congregations of sisters, 477-508. 2. Two parts in constitutions. The essential principle of this plan is not that the constitutions are divided into two parts but that the first part is purely spiritual and therefore does not contain legal norms or details, which are con-fined to the second part and to the statutes. The reason for following this prin-ciple is my experience, observation, and judgment that legal norms and details necessarily dry up the spiritual articles of constitutions. The Holy See ap-proved the constitutions of Visitation Nuns, effective from February 2, 1971, 191 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 which are divided into two books, one spiritual, the other legal. The same ap-proval had been given in the past to the constitutions of some orders of nuns, in which the canonical norms were appended to but did not form part of the con-stitutions. A juridical norm is to be accurate, clear, and as brief as possible. There are to be no superfluous words; every word is to mean something perti-nent. The result is a dry utterance, and it is evident that details are dry. Law and details have their necessary and proper place in the religious life. They are to be observed but this does not mean that they are to obstruct or to be con-fused with the spiritual. Ecclesiae sanctae (no. 14) states in effect that less stable, less general, and more detailed norms should not be part of the con-stitutions. 3. Canons should not be included in the constitutions unless this is necessary or counseled for the sense of the particular article of the con-stitutions. The constitutions are the proper law of the institute; canons and other matters of common law are the universal law of the Church. There will undoubtedly be translations of the new canon law into at least the principal vernacular languages. An analytical index or handbook of the canons that apply to congregations of sisters can be used by all congregations, and the ex-cessive number of legal articles that have been in the constitutions of each con-gregation can thereby be eliminated. As stated above, there is such a handbook of canons for congregations of sisters in Review for Religious, 27 (1968), 477- 508. 4. First and spiritual part of the constitutions. Typical topics for this first section are listed below. This section should consist of the broad, fundamental, spiritual, religious, human, and social principles of the religious life. The style should be in keeping with the dignity of the matter, motivating, and inspiring. It is to be well written but is not to be merely attractive spiritual reading nor mere narration or information. It is to lead to action, as is the second part of the constitutions and the statutes; it is a rule of life and conduct, and it is in this most important aspect that the style of current experimental constitutions is defective (Review for Religious, 33 (1974), 378-9). This section is not to be a manual of spiritual theology; it gives the more general and fundamental motivation and spirituality of the Church and of the institute. The spiritual sec-tion does not free from but presumes and demands the constant prayerful study of Sacred Scripture, the teaching of the Church on spiritual, theology and the religious life, spiritual theology itself, and other sound spiritual words (ibid.). Obviously the spiritual section should be solid and not filled in with unreal or unsubstantial motivation or spirituality. Especially for this section, the follow-ing footnotes in the article, "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregat!ons," can be consulted. These contain a listing of other articles, particularly those of spiritual content, ,often found in chapters of constitutions in the past. These footnoteg are nos. 5, 16, 19, 22, 27-9, 32, 36, 40-1, 43-6, 71-2, 74, 90, 93, and 95. From this same article, the following articles should be in the first and spiritual section of the constitutions: 1-2, the general and special Typical Constitutions / 193 purpose; 82, 94-5, the definitions of the essential religious vows; and no. 93, the law of common life in relation to poverty. 5. Second and legal section of the constitutions. This is composed in greater part of the determinations of matters left undetermined in canon law and also of articles over and above canon law. By reason of canon 572, par. 1, no. 6, the vows must be received by the legitimate superior according to the constitutions. The constitutions therefore must determine who is the legitimate superior in this matter. Canon law says nothing on the age required for elected general officials nor for local superiors. The practice of the Holy See in ap-proving the constitutions of pontifical congregations commonly demanded thirty-five years of age for such officials and thirty for local superiors. These are consequently articles over and above canon law. The more important and broader legal articles are to be in this section, those of lesser moment and less general in the statutes. Headings are put at the beginning of many articles in these two sections that the reader may see at a glance and reflect on the topics to be in the second and juridical part of the constitutions and in the statutes and also to note the general difference of the topics in these two sections. These headings therefore do not have to be retained in the constitutions. The order of the matters or articles in none of the three sections will necessarily be the same in all congregations. However, it is recommended to follow the same order in this second section and in the statutes for facility of use. Other articles of like import may be added to any of the three sections. In the juridical part of the constitutions and in the statutes, more important additions should be put in the former, the less important, less general, less stable in the latter. This legal sec-tion and the statutes have especially been based on the three articles mentioned in no. 1 above. In the article, "Proper Juridical Articles of the Constitutions," the following explanatory footnotes can be ~sefully consulted: Nos. 2, 4, ad-mission to and dismissal from the postulancy; 3, prolongation of the postulan-cy; 5, admission to the noviceship; 8, dismissal of a novice; 9, prolongation of the noviceship; 10, admission to profession; 11, anticipation of renewal of tem-porary vows; 12, exclusion from profession; and 13-5, dismissal. Articles 86, 101-2 of this section may be omitted, and 58 transferred to the statutes. 6. Statutes, which are not part of the constitutions. It is to be emphasized that this section is not part of the constitutions. Therefore, it does not demand the approval of the Holy See nor of the local ordinaries in the case of diocesan congregations. Consequently, it may be changed by the institute itself, unless the matter is one of common law, as the custom book is now changed by the in-stitute. This section is to contain the norms that are less important, less general, less permanent, more procedural than .substantial, more office and job profiles and descriptions than norms on the religious life (Ecclesiae sanctae, no. 14). Articles 3, 10, 19, 21, 23-4, 29, 33, 41, 43, 88, and 95-6 of this section may be omitted. The enactments of general chapters and the ordinances of superiors general should be placed at the end of this section. For this reaspn it can be more efficient and economical to print this section as a separate and less expensive booklet. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume34, 1975/2 7. Bibliography. In addition to the articles mentioned in no. 1 above, the following questions and answers and articles in Review for Religious will be helpful: "Too Much Canon Law in Constitutions," 15 (1956), 220-1; "The Constitutions," 19 (1960), 323-67; "Differences in Constitutions of Sisters and Brothers," 26 (1967), 507-16; "Differences of Law between Pontifical and Diocesan Lay Congregations,"' 27 (1968), 289-307; "Omission of Canons from Constitutions," ibid, 1144; "Postconciliar Norms on the Revision of the Constitutions," ibid., 1145-7; "Votes Required for a Revision of the Constitutions," ibid., 752-7; "Canon Law for Religious after Vatican II," 31 (1972), 949-66; 32 (1973), 1273-87; 34 (1975), 50-70; "Revision of the Constitutions," 33 (1974), 376-85. 8. Exclusion of added notes. It had been my intention to add some ex-planatory notes, but I later felt that this would only encumber an article that was already very long. It is sufficient to note that the duration of the postulan-cy, noviceship, and temporary profession is that which 1 consider the best. Provincial superiors and officials may also be elected in the provincial chapter. Finally, the directress of novices and her assistant do not have to be designated for any determined duration of office. 9. Based on the practice of the Holy See. The legal section of the con-stitutions and the statutes have been presented with the practice of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in approving constitutions always in mind. However, at times I have proposed suggestions of my own, for example, in art. II, 31, 59, and 115 of the legal section and art. 60 of the statutes. 10. General chapter retained as now. I found the place and manner of presenting the general chapter difficult to decide. I finally concluded that the best place was at the end of the legal section of the constitutions, with the norms of common law retained as now. PART I. SPIRITUAL The spiritual section, as here given, is composed simply of a list of the headings that should be developed in it. One important reason for this plan is to give full possibility for the expression of the distinctive character of a religious institute, which cannot be readily actuated in the legal section. As stated in the introduction, this part should consist of the broad, fundamental, spiritual, religious, human, and social principles of the religious life. It should give the more general .and fundamental motivation and spirituality of the Church and of the institute. Other topics may be added but they should fall within the principles just given. I. Divine vocation. The invitation of the Holy Spirit is manifested in the interior illumination and inspiration of the personal, close, and especially the total love of our Lord for you. 1 Jn 4:9-11, 19; PC, no. 6. 2. Response. Your response was to accept a life of personal, close and es-pecially of total love for our Lord. Col 3:14; Rom 13:10; I Cot 13:!3; Eph 3: 17-8; LG, nn. 39-40, 44; GES, no. 24; PC, nos. 5, 11. Typical Constitutions 3. Baptismal consecration. Relation of this invitation, response, and acceptance by God to baptism, or baptismal consecration, as the sacrament of regeneration and initiation. PC, no. 5. 4. Spirit and charism of the founder or foundress. 5. Relation of Rule, constitutions, and all law for religious to this invitation-response or consecration. PC, no. 2; Review for Religious, 33 (1974), 381. 6. Invitation to perfection is to the perfection of love or better still to a love that is personal, close, and especially total of our Lord and of all mankind for Him. 7. Perfect love will be attained completely only in the eternal possession of God in the beatific vision. From this it follows that life on earth must be similarly supernatural and be lived with sufficient understanding and con-sciousness of the Indwelling of the Trinity, of sanctifying grace as the par-' ticipation in the divine nature, as adoption into the family of God, of the in-fused virtues, the predominance of the supernatural virtue of charity, of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the illumination and inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and of the relation of these to the Mystical Body, the vine and the branches, and the sacraments. I Cor 3:16-7; Jn 14:23; 2 Pt 1:4; 1 .In 3:1; Rom 8:17; Gai 4:4-6; Eph 1:4-6; Rom 8:28-30. 8. Our Lord is the ideal. However, we do not so much imitate as live Him, by growing through love and in proportion to its degree into His way of think-ing, loving, and desiring, and thus in any circumstances doing what He would do. This is the source, the living, that Vatican II emphasized in its effect of witnessing to Christ. Phil 2:5. 9. The outstanding fact of the consciousness of our Lord was that He was the Son of God. Ours should be a like consciousness of being a daughter or son of the Father, the younger sister or brother of our Lord, and under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. This should be a result of the conviction of the divine adoption. 10. Difference from the lay life is in the means to the end. Mt 5:48; 1 Thes 4:3; Eph 1:4; I Pt 1:4-6; LG, no. 11, 39, 42. 11. The purpose of the essential means, the evangelical counsels, is to con-trol the principal obstacles to the perfect lore'of God. LG, no. 44-6; Letter of the Papal Secretary of State, July 13, 1952, Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest, 4, 96. (a) Chastity. 1 Cor 7:32-8; LG, n. 42; Pius XII, Courtois, The States of Perfection, nn. 505-505a. (b) Poverty. Mt 19:23 ff.; 13:22; Lk 12:34; 12:23. (c) Obedience. Rom 5:!9;.Phil 2:8. 12. Religious life is ecclesial. The religious life is ecclesial because it is part of the function of the Church to promote the intensely universal and total love of Christ, which is what religious are primarily to live, and this is what they are primarily mandated to live by ~he approval of the Church of their institute and its Rule and constitutions; Vatican II places the religious life in the Dogmatic 796 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 Constitution on the Church; canon law makes religious life a distinct class of persons in the Church, with juridical existence and distinctive rights and obligations; the Church in approving the apostolic nature and constitutions of an apostolic religious institute gives its members a mandate to go forth as its apostles; in the religious life should be found primarily the sanctity that is the note or guide to the true Church; the Church interprets authentically the evangelical counsels, regulates their practice, establishes states of perfection, approves Rules and constitutions, and guides and watches over religious in-stitutes that they may remain faithful to the spirit of their founders. LG, nos. 43-5. 13. Necessity of all three evangelical counsels. Leo XIII, Plus XI, Plus XII, Paul VI, Vatican II. Courtois, ibid., nos. 33, 130, 403; Bouscaren- O'Connor, ibid., 6, 427; LG, no. 44. 14. Mass, Eucharist. The Eucharist as the center of the life and day of the religious; counsel of due devotion to the Real Presence. 15. Liturgy. The liturgical spirit should be progressive according to the norms of the Church, markedly interior, adult, restrained rather than distinc-tively emotional, and not prominently characterized by a love of novelty and change. 16. Devotions. The spiritual life of a religious should not be mere devotionalism, but devotions and practices approved by the Church should be neither excluded nor discouraged. 17. Blessed Virgin. The institute and its constitutions should necessarily emphasize the Blessed Virgin Mary in her relation to our Lord~ redemption, the Church, and to the sanctification, community life, and apostolate of the members. 18. Sacred Scripture. The reading and study of Sacred Scripture should be encouraged primarily in relation to and for the spiritual life. 19. Prayer. The broad principles of prayer and its place in the religious life should be given. Liturgical prayer does not exclude personal prayer. There should be a prescription of at least a half hour of daily mental prayer. Lk 5:16; 6:12; 9:18; 11:1. 20. Community life. Its pui, poses are: strength and perseverance to live the religious consecration by living with others of the same consecration; help in the apostolate and professional aspect of life; to enable the religious to develop socially and to have a socially satisfactory life. Anything is to be avoided that would fragment the congregation or that would factually eliminate or lower community life. 21. Apostolate. The mission of the Church must be a continuation of that of our Lord, and that of a religious institute must be to be a part of the aposto-late or mission of the Church. The primary purpose of redemption was the com-munication of divine life, and thus the essential apostolate of a religious in-stitute is that its members be an instrument, even if remote, in the communica-tion, intensification, and retention of divine life. The work should also be such as to help the union of the religious with God. The apostolic works are com- Typical Constitutions / 1117 munity works, not, outside of a rare exception, to be merely an individual work. There should be a special love and dedication to work for the poor, the neglected, the handicapped, the unfortunate, and the disadvantaged. The religious life is not mere natural development nor an apostolate of mere social work and action (GES, no. 42). All secularization of life or work must be avoided. 22. Formation. The broad spiritual, educational, professional, human, and social aspects of formation should be given in this section. 23. Cloister, Silence. In some institutes more contact with seculars should be encouraged than in the past, but cloister should be observed and the house should never lose the atmosphere of a religious house. The members of a com-munity should have the assurance of reasonable privacy. Religious silence is an aid to prayer and to an interior life, not mere politeness. 24. Mortification. The tendency to self and sin within us demands morti-fication. This must always be voluntary but much more passive than active mortification. Not everything in the Christian life is positive but nothing is purely negative. Mortification, renunciation, abnegation have as their purpose an intensification in virtue, which is always lived personally in Christ, and es-pecially in the supernatural virtue of charity. 25. Ecumenical spirit. 26. Religious and the modern world. The relation of religious to the tem-poral world should be included and based on the Constitution on the Church in. the Modern World of Vatican II. 27. The broad principles on at least several of the following should be in this part of the constitutions: suitability of candidates, pre-entrance guidance, postulancy, noviceship, juniorate, religious habit, profession, the sacrament of penance, religious exercises, correspondence, suffrages for the dead, retirement and care of the aged, sick and infirm, government, general and provincial chapters, superior general, other superiors, councilors, treasurers, directresses of postulants, novices, and junior professed, provinces, regions, houses, the Rule, and the constitutions. PART II. LEGAL I. General purpose. The Sisters of. are a pontifical (diocesan) congregation whose general purpose is the response of a personal, close, and particularly total love of our Lord and of all men and women for Him in a supernatural life that is a filial love of the Father, an intimate participation in the divine life, and whose primary and universal norm is the person Christ, un-der the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. It is a life mandated and guided by the Church, and by the charism and spirit of their own congregation. These are supplemented by the laws of the Church and of their own congregation. The sisters profess .the simple vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience, which are an essential means to the attainment and intensification of this love. 2. Special purpose. (For example:) In their special purpose, the sisters, mandated by the Church as its apostles, are essentially to be an instrument of 198 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 God in the communication, preservation, and intensification of the same divine life in others. This they do through their life and work as Christian educators and nurses in hospitals. 3. Authorization necessary for a change in the special purpose or in the particular works. Without the permission of the Holy See the special purpose may not be changed, nor may works not included in it be added in a general and permanent manner. 4. Change in the habit. No permanent, substantial, or general change in the form or color of the habit may be made without the permission of the Holy See. 5. Right to admit to the postulancy. The right to admit an applicant to the postulancy belongs to the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior), who has also the right to dismiss her if she is judged unfit for the life of the congregation. A postulant has full liberty to leave the congregation. 6. Right to admit to the noviceship. The right to admit to the noviceship appertains to the superior general (higher superior) with the consent of her council. 7. Duration of the noviceship. The duration of the noviceship is two years. The added year is not required for the validity of profession, and the superior general with the advice of her council may dispense from it wholly or in part. 8. Dismissal of a novice. For any just reason a novice may be dismissed by the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher or provincial superior) with the advice of her council. 9. Prolongation of the noviceship. If the st~itability of a novice is doubtful, the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher superior) with the advice of her council may prolong the time of her noviceship but not beyond six months. 10. Religious profession. Upon completion of the noviceship and in the novitiate house, the novice shall make profession of simple vows or other com-mitment for three (two) years. At the end of this period the sister shall renew her vows for two (three) years. The superior general (provincial congregation: provincial or higher superior) may prolong the prescribed period of temporary profession but not beyond a year, in which case the sister must renew her tem-porary profession. OR: . . . the novice shall make profession of simple vows for one year. This profession is to be renewed annually until five full years of temporary vows are completed. The superior general . . . OR:. Upon the completion of the noviceship and in the novitiate house, the novice shall make profession of simple vows for three years or until the com-pletion of her twenty-first year, if a longer time is necessary to attain the age prescribed for perpetual profession. The superior general., may prolong the prescribed time of temporary profession, but not beyond a second term of three years, in which case the sister must renew her temporary profession. The right to admit to first profession, renewal and prolongation of tem-porary vows, and perpetual profession appertains to the superior general with Typical Constitutions / 199 the vote of her council. This vote shall be deliberative for the first temporary profession but only consultative for the renewal and prolongation of temporary vows and perpetual profession. (Provincial congregation:) The right to admit to first profession, prolonga-tion of temporary vows, and perpetual profession appertains to the superior general with the vote of her council. This vote shall be deliberative for the first temporary profession but only consultative for prolongation of temporary vows and perpetual profession. The provincial superior presents the requests for admission to the superior general, with the deliberative vote of her council for first profession and the consultative vote for prolongation of temporary vows and for perpetual profession. The right to admit to renewals of temporary vows appertains to ttie provincial superior w~th the consultative vote of her council. 11. For the validity of any profession, the following is necessary in addition to the other requisites stated in canons 572-3: that the profession be received by the superior general or a sister delegated by her. (Provincial, regional, and) Local superiors and their legitimate substitutes are delegated by the con-stitutions to receive all professions in their (provinces, regions, and) houses and with power also to subdelegate. The added period of two years is not necessary for the validity of the perpetual profession, and the superior general with the advice of her council may dispense from it wholly or in part. 12. The following is the formula of profession: 13. Obedience. The sisters are bound to obey by reason of the vow only when lawful superiors command expressly in virtue of holy obedience or in equivalent words. 14. Superiors shall rarely, prudently, and cautiously command in virtue of holy obedience and only for a grave reason. It is expedient that a formal precept be given in writing or at least in the presence of two witnesses. 15. Local superiors, especially of small houses, shall not give commands in virtue of holy obedience except in grave and urgent cases, and they should then immediately notify the superior general (provincial congregation: provincial superior). 16. The sisters are obliged by the virtue of obedience to fulfill the prescrip-tions of the constitutions, statutes, and other orders of superiors. 17. Supreme authority. Supreme internal authority is exercised ordinarily by the superior general assisted by her council and extraordinarily by the legitimately assembled general chapter. 18. Authority of the superior general. A serious reason and the deliberative vote of her council are required for the superior general (a higher or regional superior) to transfer or remove a superior or official before the expiration of a prescribed term of office. Unless otherwise specified, officials may be reap-pointed indefinitely. With the consent of her council, the superior general may prolong the term of office of (provincial, regional, and) local superiors when this is necessary. 200 / Review for Religious, l/olurne 34, 1975/2 19. The superior general has the right to transfer the sisters from one house to another and to assign their duties. 20. Provincial congregation. The congregation is divided into provinces. The original establishment and the total suppression of all existing provinces are reserved to the Holy See. All other establishment, modification, and sup-pression of provinces appertain to the superior general with the consent of her council and to the general chapter. Transfer to another province. Only the superior general with the advice of her council and ordinarily after consulting the interested, provincials may per-manently transfer a sister from one province to another. 21. The superior general shall prudently direct and supervise the ad-ministration of the temporal goods of the congregation and of each (province, region, and) house in accordance with the prescriptions of canon law, the con-stitutions, and statutes. 22. The superior general may not appoint a vicar and delegate powers to her nor may she grant a sister active or passive voice or deprive her of it. 23. If it should ever seem necessary to remove the superior general from of-rice, the general council must submit the matter to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (diocesan: the ordinary of the residence of the superior general). If the superior general thinks it her duty to resign her of-fice outside the time of the sessions of any general chapter, she shall in writing make known her reasons to the same Congregation (diocesan: same ordinary). During the time of any general chapter, even if only of affairs, the superior general shall present her resignation and reasons to the chapter, which is com-petent to accept it, elect her successor and also other elective general officials. 24. Canonical visitation. The superior general shall make the visitation of the entire congregation at least every three years (at least once during her term of office). She shall see that the houses immediately subject to her are visited every year. The provincial superior shall make the visitation of all the houses of her province once a year, and the same frequency of visitation of a region shall be observed by the regional superior. Both may omit this visitation in the year of the visitation by the superior general. Should the higher or regional superior be lawfully prevented from making the visitation, another sister is to be delegated for this purpose. 25. The superior general may designate a visitor for an individual (province or) house or for a particular matter; (the provincial and regional superiors m~.y do the same for an indi~,idual house or a particular matter;) but to appoint a visitor for the entire congregation (in the case of a provincial or regional superior, for the ei~tire province or region), the consent of the perti-nent council must be obtained. The visitor must be a sister of perpetual vows. 26. The purpose of the visitation is to strengthen union and charity, to in-quire into the government and administration of the (province, region, and) house as also into the fulfillment of the obligations of the religious life; to cor-rect prevalent abuses, and to give occasion to each sister to speak freely on matters that concern her personal welfare or the general good. The (Provincial, Typical Constitutions / 201 regional, and) local superiors retain the usual exercise of their office during the visitation. 27. Councilors. The general council is composed of the four general coun-cilors. The superior general, although she presides and votes in the council, is not a member of the general council. She places all acts in her own name, even in matters that require the consent or advice of the council, since she alone possesses the authority to govern the congregation. 28. Although the superior general has the right of acting completely un-assisted except in matters reserved to higher authorities or that by law demand the consent or advice of the general council, yet she is earnestly counseled to seek the advice of her council also in other important matters. 29. The duty of the councilors is to give advice and assistance to the superior general in matters of government and administration, to cast a deliberative or consultative vote according to canon law, the constitutions and statutes, and to propose whatever they think is to the best interest of the con-gregation. 30. The councilors are bound to secrecy concerning all matters discussed in the sessions, as well as those confided to them by reason of their office. If a councilor violates this secrecy, she shall be admonished by the superior general. If she repeatedly violates it, she shall be corrected according to the gravity of her fault. 31. If a general councilor or elected general official dies, resigns, becomes incapable of fulfilling her duties regularly, or is deposed, the superior general with the consent of her council shall replace her by a sister having the requisite qualities, who shall hold office until the next general chapter. No general coun-cilor or official may resign her office or be removed except for a serious reason, accepted as such by the superior general with the consent of her council. 32. The assistant and vicar takes the place of the superior general when the latter is absent or when for any reason whatever is unable to exercise her office. 33. Although the superior general alone has the right to convoke the general council, when she is ill, absent, or otherwise impeded, the assistant con-venes and presides over the council. 34. When acting in her representative capacity, the assistant shall issue only such directions as are required for ordinary government and cannot be deferred; and then as far as possible she shall act according to the presumed will of the superior general. 35. At the death, resignation, or legitimate ~emovai from office of the superior general, the vicar shall assume the government of the congregation with full power and equal rights. She shall continue in this office until the elec-tion of the superior general at the next chapter, to be convoked according to art. 67. 36. In the absence or disability of the assistant, the councilor next in precedence and so on in succession shall act as the representative of the superior general. 37. Administration of temporal goods. Not only the congregation but also 202 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/2 each (province and) house is capable of acquiring, possessing, and ad-ministering temporal property. 38. Provincialsuperior. Each province is governed by a provincial superior who like the superior general is a higher superior. The provincial superior is ap-pointed by the superior general with the consent of her council for a term of three years. She may be reappointed for a second but not for a third immediate term in the same province. She continues to govern the province until the arrival of her successor. 39. The primary duty of the provincial superior is to govern the whole province so as to promote the common and individual good. She must be an example of religious life, distinguished for her virtue and practical judgment, devoted to the interests of the sisters, loyal to the supreme authority in the con-gregation, and obedient to ecclesiastical directives. She is to be thoroughly convinced that on her administration depends the well-being of the province. 40. The provincial superior has the right: (a) To govern the whole.province in accordance with the constitutions and statutes, with the exception of matters reserved to higher authorities; (b) To give commands and make regulations in conformity with the con-stitutions and statutes; (c) To admit candidates to the postulancy; (d) To grant the sisters the necessary permissions for studies, travel, visits, and similar matters according to the established regulations; (e) To encourage and initiate good works. 41. It is the duty of the provincial superior: (a) To exercise supervision over the observance of the constitutions, statutes, and all obligations of the religious life; (b) To make the visitation of the houses in conformity with art. 24 and to submit a report of her visitation to the superior general; (c) To advise and direct local superiors in their activities; (d) To present, with her recommendations, matters submitted by local superiors that require recourse to the superior general; (e) To examine the financial statements of the houses and to make the financial reports of the province; (f) To examine the annual personnel and disciplinary reports of the local superiors and forward copies of these, along with her own report, to the superior general. 42. In extraordinary and difficult matters, the provincial superior should consult the superior general. If the urgency of the case makes this impossible, she should later inform the superior general of the matter. 43. The four (two) provincial councilors constitute the provincial council in the same way as was stated for the general council. One of the councilors shall be designated as assistant and vicar and shall take the place of the provincial superior when the latter is absent or otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of her offices, unless the superior general with the consent of her council has appointed another sister as acting provincial. In the event of the death or Typical Constitutions / 203 removal from office of the provincial superior, the vicar shall assume with full powers and equal rights the government of the province until the newly ap-pointed provincial assumes office or until the arrival of an acting provincial ap-pointed in the same way by the superior general. In other respects the assistant shall observe the norms established in art. 32-6. The provincial councilors, secretary, and treasurer are appointed on the recommendation of the provincial superior by the superior general with the consent of her council; they must be at least thirty years of age and of perpetual vows. The provincial secretary and treasurer may be councilors but not the provincial assistant. 44. The norms of statutes nos. 60-87 apply with due distinctions to the provincial council and councilors and the provincial secretary and treasurer. 45. Regions. Because of their distance from the motherhouse or other proportionate reasons, houses that cannot as yet be united into a province may be grouped into regions, which are not distinct moral persons. The establish-ment, change, and suppression of regions appertain to the superior general with the consent of her council. 46. Regions are governed by regional superiors who in almost all respects have the rights and duties of provincials. Their authority is delegated by the superior general but, unless an express restriction is made or is to be un-derstood from the nature of the matter, this delegation contains all the authority possessed by provincials. The regional superiors are consequently to be guided in general by the articles of the constitutions and statutes on provinces, the provincial superior, and the provincial officials. 47. By the law of the constitutions and for her lawful appointment as regional superior, a sister must possess the qualities required by common law for provincials. The articles of the constitutions on the manner of appointment, term of office, reappointment, removal from office, and relation of the provin-cial superior to the superior general all apply also to the regional superior. 48. The regional superior is assisted by two councilors and, if it seems necessary or opportune, by a secretary and treasurer, all appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council. These sisters must be professed of perpetual vows. One of the councilors shall be designated as regional assistant and vicar. With due distinctions, nos, 60-87 of the statutes, and art. 43 above apply to the regional council, councilors, and the regional secretary and treasurer. 49. Houses. For the erection of a house, the superior general must have the consent of her council and the written consent of the local ordinary. The con-sent of both is also necessary for the suppression of a house,, which likewise appertains to the superior general. (~Diocesan:) For the erection of a house, the superior general must have the consent of her council and the written consent of the local ordinary. The suppression of a house appertains to the local or-dinary after having consulted the superior general. The latter must have the consent of her council for requesting or agreeing to a suppression. 50. Local superiors. Every house, including the motherhouse, shall be 204 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 governed by a local superior, who is appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council for a term of three years. She may be appointed for a second but not immediately for a third term in the same house. The local superior must have completed her thirtieth year and be professed of perpetual vows. She continues to govern the house until the arrival of her successor. 51. The local superior possesses the authority that canon law, the con-stitutions, and the statutes assign to her and has the right to govern the house in all matters not reserved to higher authorities. 52. The superior shall devote herself with generosity and perseverance to the education and formation of the younger sisters, particularly those of tem-porary vows. 53. Directress of novices. The formation of the novices is entrusted to the directress of novices who must be professed of perpetual vows and at least thirty years of age. 54. Obligation, change, and interpretation of the constitutions and statutes. The (Rule), con~stitutions and statutes do not of themselves bind under sin but only under the penalty imposed for their infraction, unless the violation concerns the vows, or divine or ecclesiastical laws, arises from a sinful motive, or gives scandal. 55. Superiors are bound to admonish the sisters and to impose penances for violations of the constitutions and statute's. The sisters are obliged to accept the corrections and to perform the penances. 56. The superior general may interpret authentically also the statutes and the ordinances of the general chapter, but the Holy See alone can authentically interpret and change the constitutions. In a doubt about some particular point, the general chapter, as also the superior general with the advice of her council, may give a practical interpretation of the matter and the sisters are obliged to follow this interpretation. (Diocesan:) The superior general may interpret authentically also the statutes and the ordinances of the general chapter, but the constitutions may be neither authentically interpreted nor changed without the unanimous consent of the ordinaries of the dioceses in Which the congrega-tion has houses. In a doubt . . . 57. Changes in the constitutions may not be made without serious reasons. Any change must be first discussed in the general chapter, and if it obtains at least two-thirds of the votes, it shall be submitted to the Holy See (diocesan: local ordinaries) for a decision. 58. A complete copy of the constitutions shall be given to every sister at the beginning of the noviceship that she may study and earnestly strive to observe them. 59. Dispensation. No superior of the congregation, without an express con-cession from competent authority, may dispense from the laws of the Church or the decrees of the Holy See. 60. For a determined time and a proportionate reason, the superior general may dispense individual sisters, a house, province, region, or the entire con-gregation from a merely disciplinary article also of the constitutions. A provin- Typical Constitutions / 205 cial and a regional superior have the same power for their sisters, houses, province, or region, and a local superior for her sisters and house. The direc-tress of novices has the same power as a local superior but only with regard to the novices and the novitiate. 61. All superiors may dispense themselves in those matters in which they may lawfully dispense others. GENERAL CHAPTER 1. Convocation and members 62. The general chapter must be convoked as often as general elections are necessary. The ordinary convocation takes place every sixth (fifth, fourth) year at the expiration of the term of office of the superior general and on her death, resignation, or deposition. 63. (Pontifical:) To convoke the chapter for any reason other than those specified above, the permission of the Holy See is required in addition to the consent of the general council. (Diocesan:) To convoke the chapter for any reason other than those specified above, the superior general must have the consent of her council. 64. The chapter must be convoked by the superior general at least six (three, a year) months before the day fixed for its assembly. In the letter of convocation, the date and place of the chapter shall be designated, and the prayers to be said for the success of the chapter shall be prescribed. The place of the chapter shall be determined by the superior general with the consent of her council. 65. Before the convocation, the superior general must inform the ordinary of the diocese in which the chapter will convene of the date of the election of the superior general, that he may preside either personally or by delegate at this election. 66. The meeting of the chapter may be anticipated or deferred for an im-portant reason, but not more than three (six) months in either case. 67. In the event of the death, resignation, or deposition of the superior general, the chapter must be convoked by the vicar as soon as possible, so that the assembly of the chapter will not be postporied more than six (three, a year) months after the vacancy of the office. 68. The members of the chapter are: (a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f) (g) -- or (g) The superior general The four general councilors The secretary general The treasurer general Former superiors general The provincial superiors delegates elected by each province The regional superiors 206 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 The delegates elected by (the regions and) the sisters according to art. or (g) Forty (or other number) delegates elected by the sisters. 69. The superior general and elective general officials continue as members of the assembled chapter even though at the elections other sisters have succeeded them in office. 70. The superior general with the consent of her council may summon other sisters to assist in the clerical and similar work of the chapter. She may in the same manner invite such sisters and externs to present and discuss questions with the chapter. None of these are permitted to vote. 71. The chapter elects the superior general, general councilors, secretary general, treasurer general, and treats of the more important affairs that con-cern the entire congregation. 2. General norms to be observed in elections 72. The tellers elected for the general chapter must take an oath to perform their duty faithfully and to keep secret the proceedings of the chapter even after the elections are completed. All the capitulars are likewise bound to secrecy: The places of the tellers and secretary shall be near the president. 73. The tellers are to take care that the ballots are cast by each elector secretly, individually, and in order of precedence. The secretary draws up ac-curately the proceedings of the chapter, which shall be signed by the president, the tellers, and the secretary herself. These are to be preserved in the archives of the congregation. 74. Two-thirds of the capitulars must be present for the validity of the acts of the general (and provincial) chapter, but all must be convoked. 75. Even though a sister may have the right to vote in her own name under several titles, she may nevertheless cast but one vote. 76. The capitulars must be present in person at the election. No one may validly vote by letter or by proxy, lfa capitular in the house where the election is being held cannot be present at the election because of illness, her written vote sh"all be collected by the tellers in a sealed envelope. 77. If a capitular believes that she cannot attend the general (or provincial) chapter on account of sickness or for some other serious reason, she is to in-form the superior general (or provincial superior), who shall decide with the consent of her council whether the capitular should be excused and her sub-stitute summoned. 78. All the sisters, whether capitulars or not, are forbidden to procure votes directly or indirectly for themselves or others. Prudent consultation regarding the qualities of those eligible is permitted within the bounds of justice and charity. 79. Each of the electors shall write on her ballot the name of the sister for whom she votes, fold the ballot, and drop it in the ballot box placed before the president. 80. When all the ballots have been cast, the tellers shall first count the Typical Constitutions / 207 folded ballots in the presence of the president and the electors to ascertain whether the number of ballots corresponds to the number of electors. If the number of ballots exceeds the number of electors, the balloting is null and void. Otherwise they shall proceed to the inspection of the ballots. 81. The ballots are then opened and examined. They are read first by the senior teller, who in an audible voice shall make known the name on each ballot, then by the president and lastly by the junior teller. The votes must be recorded by the secretary. At the end of each balloting, the president must an-nounce the names of all sisters voted for and the number of votes given to each. 82. No sister may validly vote for herself. A vote is also null and void: (a) If given by one who is incapable of a human act or has by law been deprived of active voice; (b) If it is not given freely. Consequently a vote is invalid if an elector is forced directly or indirectly by grave fear or fraud to elect a specified sister or one or the other among several specified sisters; (c) If it is not secret, certain, absolute, and determined; (d) If it is blank or for an ineligible person. 83. Even if one or more votes are null and void, the election is valid provided the one elected received the number of valid votes required by the constitutions. 84. Unless otherwise prescribed for a particular election, all elections shall be decided by an absolute majority of secret votes, that is, a number which ex-ceeds half the number of valid votes cast; but if after two ballotings no one has received an absolute majority, a third and last balloting will be held, in which a relative majority decides. In an equality of votes among several candidates in this third balloting, the senior by first profession is elected; if the sisters made their first profession on the same day, the senior~by age is elected. This same norm shall resolve an equality of votes on the only, limiting, or decisive balloting of any election. 85. After the required number of votes has been obtained, the president shall declare the election legitimately made and announce the name of the sister elected. This proclamation of the newly elected superior general ter-minates the duties of the presiding local ordinary. 86. All sisters are obliged to accept any office to which they have been elected. 87. The ballots must be burned by the tellers after each session. 88. Ira sister elected as superior general or general official is not present at the chapter, she is to be summoned immediately; but the sessions of the chapter are suspended only in the former case. 89. The office of the superior general and of the elected general officials always terminates at the election of their successors. 3. Election of delegates 90. All sisters, including those of temporary vows or other commitment, have active voice in the election of delegates to the general (provincial) chapter. 208 / Review for Religious, l/olurne 34, 1975/2 Only sisters of perpetual vows, unless members of the chapter in virtue of any office, have passive voice. OR: Only sisters of perpetual vows have active and, unless members of the chapter in virtue of any office, also passive voice in the election of delegates to the general (provincial) chapter. 91. The superior general (provincial) shall publish a list accessible to all the electors, compiled with the consent of her council, of all the sisters of passive voice. 92. In each house on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the electors shall assemble under the direction of their local superior. Each shall elect by secret ballot forty (or other number) sisters. 93. The local superior shall collect all the ballots without inspecting them and enclose them with her own ballot in an envelope, which she shall seal in the presence of the electors. She shall write on this inner envelope, "Election of Delegates, house N . " and forward it immediately to the superior general (provincial). 94. As soon as possible after all the envelopes have been received, the superior general (provincial) and her council shall open the envelopes and count the votes of this first balloting. The secretary general (provincial) shall record the votes. All sisters who received an absolute majority are elected. A report of the first balloting containing a declaration of those elected, the number remaining to be elected in the second balloting, and a list of the sisters voted for and the number of votes each received will be published to all the houses as soon as possible. 95. A second voting with the same procedure will be held in all the houses on the day appointed by the superior general (provincial). A relative majority is decisive in this second balloting. The substitutes are in order the sisters who received the next highest number of votes after those elected in the second balloting. The superior general (provincial) shall immediately inform the con-gregation (province) of the complete results. OR: ,90. As 90 above. 91. The superior general (provincial) shall publish a list accessible to all the electors, compiled with the consent of her council, of all the sisters of passive voice divided into three groups as equal as possible in number according to precedence from first profession. 92. In each house on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the electors shall assemble under the direction of their local superior. Each shall elect by secret vote ten sisters from each group and a fourth ten from any or all groups and in any proportion. 93. As 93 above. 94. As soon as possible after all the envelopes have been received, the superior general (provincial) and her council shall open the envelopes and count the votes of this first balloting. The secretary general (provincial) shall record the votes. All sisters who received an absolute majority are elected. A Typical Constitutions / 209 report of the first balloting containing a declaration of those elected, the number remaining to be elected from each group in the second balloting, and a list of the sisters voted for and the number of votes each received will be published to all the houses as soon as possible. 95. A second voting with the same procedure will be held in all the houses on the day appointed by the superior general (provincial). A relative majority is decisive in this second balloting. The substitutes are in order the sisters of each group who received the next highest number of votes in the second balloting after those elected. The superior general (provincial) shall im-mediately inform the congregation (province) of the complete results. 96. (Provincial congregation) Houses immediately subject to the superior general elect two delegates, superiors or subjects, of perpetual vows who are - not members of the chapter in virtue of any office, to the general chapter. The voting is carried out and the votes forwarded to the superior general according to the norms of art. 92-5. 4. Provincial chapter a. Convocation and members 97. The provincial chapter is to be convened as often as a general chapter is to be held .and at least three (six, a year) months before the date of the assembly of the latter. The provincial superior is the president of the chapter, and its principal purpose is to elect the delegates to the general chapter. The provincial shall convoke the provincial chapter at a date sufficient for the proper prechapter preparation for both the provincial and general chapters. 98. The members of the chapter are: (a) The provincial superior (b) The four (two) provincial councilors (c) The provincial secretary (d) The provincial treasurer (e) The delegates as described in nn. 90-5 b. Sessions 99. The chapter shall immediately elect from among the capitulars by a relative majority of secret votes the two tellers and in the same way, in a dis-tinct balloting, the secretary of the chapter. The tellers for these elections shall be the two junior capitulars by first profession, and the secretary shall be the provincial secretary. 100. The chapter shall then elect by separate and secret ballotings and ac-cording to the norm of art. 84 two (three, four or more) delegates and two (three, four or more) substitutes to the general chapter. These must be sisters of perpetual vows. , 101. After these elections, the chapter shall deliberate on matters that con-cern the spiritual and temporal welfare of the province. The same procedure shall be followed in deliberations as in the general chapter. 210 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 102. Enactments of the provincial chapter have no force until they are ap-proved by the superior general with the consent of her council. They are then promulgated to the province by the provincial superior. 103. The chapter shall finally deliberate on the proposals to be made to the general chapter by the province. 104. The secretary shall draw up the complete proceedings of the chapter according to the norm of art. 73. One copy is to be sent immediately to the superior general, and a second copy is to be preserved in the archives of the province. The provincial superior shall immediately publish the elections to the province. 5. Preliminary sessions 105. The chapter immediately elects from among the capitulars by a relative majority of secret votes the two tellers and in the same way, in a dis-tinct balloting, the secretary 9f the chapter. The tellers for this preliminary election shall be the two capitulars youngest by first profession, and the secretary general shall be the secretary. 106. The chapter shall then elect by a relative majority of secret votes and on one ballot a committee of three capitulars who had no part in preparing or approving the reports of the superior general. This committee is to examine the reports thoroughly and give its observations to the chapter before the election of the superior general. 107. The superior general presents to the chapter two distinct and com-plete reports: one of the persons, religious life, and works; the other on the material and financial condition of the congregation since the last chapter. The financial report must have been prepared and also signed by the treasurer general. Copies of the reports should be distributed to the capitulars before the opening session. 6. Election of the superior general 108. The day before the election of the superior general shall be spent in retreat by the capitulars, and permission shall be requested for exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. 109. On the day of the election of the superior general, Mass shall be offered in the house where the chapter is held to invoke the blessing of God on the work of the chapter. If the rubrics permit, the Mass shall be the votive Mass of the Holy Spirit. 110. To be elected validly to the office of superior general, a sister must be professed of perpetual vows and have completed her thirty-fifth year. 111. The superior general is elected for six (five, four) years. She may be elected for a second but not for a third consecutive term, o i 12. The superior general is elected by an absolute majority of secret votes. If three ballotings fail to produce this majority, a fourth and last balloting shall be held. In this balloting the electors shall vote for one of the two sisters who Typical Constitutions / 211 had the highest number of votes in the third balloting, but these two sisters themselves shall not vote. If more than two would be eligible by reason of an equality of votes in the third balloting, the norm of art. 84 shall limit the can-didates to two. Of these two the sister who receives the greater number of votes in the fourth balloting is elected. (Diocesan congregation of women:) The local ordinary has full power to confirm or rescind the election of the superior general according to his conscience. 113. The president shall proclaim the newly elected superior general. This act terminates the duties of the presiding local ordinary. 7. Election of the general officials 114. After the election of the superior general and after she has taken the oath according to art. 72, the chapter under her presidency shall elect the four general councilors, the secretary general, and the treasurer general. These elec-tions are made by separate ballotings and according to the norm of art. 84. Immediately after the election of the four councilors, a distinct election for the assistant and vicar shall be held from among the four elected councilors. Or: The first councilor elected shall also be the assistant and vicar. 115. To be elected a general councilor or official a sister must have com-pleted her thirtieth year and have made perpetual profession. Any one of the councilors except the assistant may be elected as secretary general or treasurer general. These two officials should possess the special competence required for their offices. The superior general .may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. (Appointment articles) The secretary general and the treasurer general are not elected by the chapter but appointed (for a term of three years) by the superior general with the consent of her council. Both may be general coun-cilors but neither may be the general assistant. Both should possess the specialized competence required for their offices. The superior general may ap-point one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. The secretary general is not elected by the chapter but appointed (for a term of three years) by the superior general with the consent of her council. She may be a general councilor but not the general assistant. She should possess the specialized competence required for her office. The superior general may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. 8. Chapter of affairs 116. After the elections the chapter shall treat of the more important af-fairs that concern the entire congregation. The enactments of the chapter may not be contrary to common law. or the constitutions. 117. Matters are decided by an absolute majority. I f the votes are equal, the presiding superior general has the right of deciding the matter. The voting is public. Any capitular has the right of requesting a secret vote on a particular matter. Such a request shall be put to the public vote of the chapter, lfthe ma- 212 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 jority favors the request, the voting on the particular matter shall be secret. Or: Matters are decided by an absolute majority of secret votes. If the votes are equal, the presiding superior general has the right of deciding the matter. 118. (The provincial chapters and) All professed sisters may submit written proposals to the general chapter. These must be forwarded to the superior general or her delegate at the prescribed time before the opening of the chapter. The capitulars retain the right of making proposals thereafter and during the sessions up to the definite time determined by the chapter, after which no proposals may be submitted. l l9. At a suitable time before the general chapter determined by the superior general, committees of three or more capitulars, appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council, shall arrange the proposals and prepare a report on each distinct proposal. These reports are to be com-pleted before the chapter opens. Every effort is to be made to have these com-mittees composed predominantly at least of capitulars. The superior general may permit that some or all of the committee members be elected by the secret vote of professed sisters or that they propose names for appointment. 120. The chapter is not obliged to deliberate on every matter proposed. It may simply exclude anything that appears useless or inopportune, or it may remit a matter to the study and decision of the superior general and her council after the close of the chapter. 121. The principal affairs are: (a) Suitable means of perfecting or restoring the living of the religious life (b) Proposals submitted to the chapter (c) Determination of the contribution that each house must make to the general treasury Or: Determination of the contribution that each house must make to the provincial treasury, and each province to the general treasury (d) Extraordinary expenditures which the superior general (provincial, regional), and local superiors may authorize or make alone, those that demand the advice or consent of their councils, and those for which local superiors must recur to the (provincial, regional superiors and either of these to the) superior general (e) Norms to be observed in addition to the prescriptions of the sacred canons in alienations, purchases, the assuming of obligations, and other matters of a financial nature (f) Determination of the dowry (g) Confirmation, modification, or abrogation of ordinances of previous general chapters (h) (In provincial congregations) Establishment of new provinces or the suppression of existing ones, the uniting of provinces, or the modification of their boundaries (i) Determination of more important matters for which the advice or con-sent of the general (provincial, regional) or local councils is necessary. 122. The enactments of the chapter remain in force permanently unless Typical Constitutions / 213 amended or abrogated by subsequent chapters. Or: The enactments of the chapter remain in force until the next chapter, in which they may be confirmed, modified, or abrogated. 123. The chapter may not be protracted beyond a reasonable length of time. The superior general shall publish the elections, ordinances, and other acts which the capitulars have determined should be published. STATUTES I. Classes in institute; rights and obligations. The members form one class of sisters subjec( to the one superior general and living under the same common norms. 2. Precedence. The following is the order of prec.edence in highly official and ceremonial matters (see full list in Review for Religious, 25 [1966], 365-8): 3. Titles. The superior general shall be called. The title of. shall be given to. The title of all other religious is Sister. The superior general alone at the expiration of her term of office shall retain the title of. and have the precedence stated in art. 2. 4. Religious habit. (For example:) The habit is of suitable black materi-al. 5. The veil of the professed sisters is of black material and light in weight. 6. The professed sisters wear a silver ring on the third finger of the left hand . . . 7. The sisters are permitted to wear white habits, veils, and cinctures while occupied in duties or in a climate that necessitates or counsels this dress. 8. Dowry. Postulants shall bring the dowry determined by the general chapter. The chapter may grant delegation in this matter to the superior general and her council. 9. The superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the consent of her council may remit wholly or in part the dowry of a candidate who lacks financial means. 10. A postulant dispensed from the dowry is obliged to establishone later if she receives any substantial gift or bequest. 11. After the first profession of a sister, the superior general (provincial congregation usually: provincial superior) with the consent of her council and that of the local ordinary must invest the dowry in safe, lawful, and profitable securities. ! 2. The dowries must be prudently and justly administered at the habitual residence of the superior general (provincial congregation usually: provincial superior). 13. Material entrance requirements. The superior general (provincial con-gregation: provincial or higher superior) with the consent (or advice, or no vote required) of her council shall determine the wardrobe and the sum to be paid for the expenses of the postulancy and noviceship. In particular cases and for just reasons, the superior general (provincial congregation: higher or provincial superior) has the right to dispense wholly or in part from this requirement. 214 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 14. A record shall be kept in a special register of all the property that the candidate brings with her to the postulancy, signed by the candidate and two sisters as witnesses. 15. The candidates, upon their admission to the postulancy, must sign a civilly valid document in which they declare that they will not seek compensa-tion for services given to the congregation before or after profession, whether they leave or are dismissed. This document is to be renewed at the time of perpetual profession. 16. Testimonials for admission. Before being admitted candidates must present these credentials: (a) Certificates of baptism and confirmation (b) A testimonial of good moral character from their pastor or another priest, unless the aspirant is already well known to the superior general (higher superior) (c) Certificates of good health, both physical and mental, from reliable professional sources (d) Other testimonials that the superior general (higher superior) may con-sider necessary or opportune. 17. Postulancy. The time prescribed for the postulancy is a year. For a just reason and with the advice of her council, the superior general (higher superior) may prolong or shorten this time but not beyond six months. 18. Every three months the directress shall give to the superior general (higher superior) and her council a report of the postulant's virtues, defects, and aptitude for the life of the congregation. 19. About three months before the beginning of the noviceship, the postulant shall in writing petition the superior general (higher superior) for ad-mission to the noviceship. 20. Before beginning the noviceship, the postulant shall make a retreat of. entire days. 21. Noviceship. As soon as possible, each province shall have its own novitiate. 22. The noviceship begins in the manner determined by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) The added year ends on the second anniversary of the inception of the noviceship, and on this day the temporary profession (or other commitment) may be licitly pronounced. 23. Three months before the end of the noviceship, the novices shall in writing request admission to the profession (or other commitment) from the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: provincial superior). 24. The novice shall be informed of her admission to vows so that in due time she may relinquish the administration of her property, dispose of its use and usufruct, and make a will, as prescribed in common law. 25. Before pronouncing her vows (or other commitment), the novice shall make a spiritual retreat of. entire days. 26. Profession of a novice in danger of death. Even though she has not com-pleted the time of her noviceship, a novice in danger of death may, for the con- Typical Constitutions / 215 solation of her soul, be admitted to profession by any superior, the directress of novices, or their delegates. The ordinary formula of profession is to be used if the condition of the novice permits, but without any determination of time. 27. By this profession the novice is granted a plenary indulgence in the form of a jubilee; the profession, however, has no canonical effect. If the novice should recover her health, her state will be the same as if she had made no profession. Therefore, if she perseveres, she must complete the full time of the noviceship and on its completion make a new profession, All of these prescrip-tions apply to other forms of commitment. 28. Religious profession. The written declaration of profession, whether temporary or perpetual, must be signed by the professed sister, the superior general or sister delegate who received the profession, and two other sisters as witnesses. This document shall be carefully preserved in the files of the con-gregation. 29. Three months before the expiration of each temporary profession, the sisters shall present a written petition to the superior general (provincial con-gregation frequently: provincial superior) to be admitted to the renewal of tem-porary vows or to perpetual profession. 30. When the time for which the vows were pronounced has expired, they must be renewed without delay. However, for a just reason, the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher or provincial superior) may permit the renewal of temporary vows to be anticipated, but not by more than a month. An anticipated renewal expires only on the day on which a non-anticipated renewal would have expired. Higher superiors.for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days. 3 I. Before perpetual profession, the sisters shall make a retreat of. entire days, and before renewal of temporary vows or commitment, a retreat of. day(s). Only the first profession must be made in the novitiate house. 32. Poverty. With the permission of the local superior, sisters may perform acts of proprietorship required by civil law. If such an act includes alienation of property or concerns an important matter, this permission is reserved to the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superiors) unless the case is urgent, when it may be given by the local superior. 33. Penance. All superiors are to strive to have confessors readily available before Communion. 34. Religious exercises. The sisters shall daily recite in common Lauds (and) Vespers (and) Compline of the Divine Office. 35. Every day the sisters shall spend a half hour in mental prayer. They shall individually prepare the matter of the prayer beforehand. 36. They shall make the particular and gen'eral examen of conscience at noon and at nigl~t. Privately and at a convenient time during the day, they shall recite five decades of the rosary and devote at least fifteen minutes to spiritual reading. 216 / Review for Religious, IZolume 34, 1975/2 37. The sisters shall accustom themselves to visit the Blessed Sacrament frequently. 38. Annually the sisters shall make a retreat of. full days. They shall observe a day of monthly recollection, which ordinarily is to be the o. Sunday of the month. 39. The sisters shall make a public devotional renewal of their vows and commitment on . . . They should renew their vows frequently in private, par-ticularly at Mass, and on the day of monthly recollection. The formula of this renewal is . 40. Superiors shall grant another suitable time to sisters who are prevented from performing the prescribed spiritual duties at the ordinary time. 41. Mortification and penance. In the practice of corporal mortification and penances of a private nature, the sisters are to be guided solely by the con-fessor; for those that are public they must have the permission of the superior. 42. Enclosure. The parts of the house subject to enclosure are the dor-mitories of the sisters, their cells, the infirmary, in a word, all places destined by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) for the ex-c| usive use of the sisters. 43. If the chaplain or other priests live in a house of the sisters, their apartments shall if p~ssible have a separate entrance and be separated from the part of the house occupied by the sisters. 44. The sisters shall observe the prescribed norms and usages on leaving the house. 45. Sisters living outside a convent of the congregation for study are obliged, if possible, to live in a religious house. 46. Correspondence. The correspondence of the sisters is subject to the authority of superiors, and of the junior professed, novices, and postulants also to their directresses. 47. Silence. Religious silence shall be observed according to the prescribed norms and usage of the congregation. 48. "~postolate. The sisters in hospitals shall be guided by religious and ethical principles in their professional activities. In a doubt they shall consult religious or ecclesiastical authority. 49. Care of the sick. Spiritual aid shall be promptly given to the sick. They may ask for the confessor they prefer and are to be given the opportunity of receiving Holy Communion frequently and even daily during their illness. 50. Suffrages for the dead. At the death of a professed religious or novice, the local superior shall immediately inform the superior general (provincial) and the close relatives of the deceased. The superior general (provincial) shall promptly send a notification to all the houses (of the province). 51. Departure and dismissal. The superior general (higher superior) with the advice of her council, for just and reasonable motives, may exclude a religious from renewing temporary vows (or other commitment) or from mak-ing profession of perpetual vows, also because of physical or psychological ill-ness. Religious who have made profession of temporary vows (or other corn- Typical Constitutions / 217 mitment) may freely leave the congregation when the term of the vows has ex-pired. 52. For the dismissal of a sister of perpetual vows, serious external reasons are required, together with incorrigibility, after attempts at correction have been pre~viously made without success, so that in the judgment of the superior general and her council there is no hope of amendment. The efforts at correc-tion shall include not only the admonitions but also a change of employment, transfer to another house, and other suitable means, if judged expedient for a reform of conduct. 53. If by the consent of the council expressed in secret ballot the sister has been found incorrigible and her dismissal approved, the superior general shall transmit the whole matter, with all the relevant acts and documents to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (diocesan con-gregation: ordinary of the diocese where the religious house to which the sister is assigned is situated): (Added article in diocesan congregation:) The sister has the right to appeal to the Holy See against the decree of dismissal, and if she makes this appeal within ten days from the date on which she was informed of her dismissal, the decree of dismissal has no juridical effect while the recourse is pending. 54. In an automatic dismissal according to canon 646, it is sufficient that the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the advice of her council make a written declaration of the fact, but she is to take care that the collected proofs of the fact are preserved in the files of the congrega-tion. 55. In the case of~rave external scandal or of very serious imminent injury to the community, any professed sister may be immediately sent back to secular life by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the consent of her council or even, if there is danger in delay and time does not permit recourse to the superior general (higher superior), by the local superior with the consent of her council and that of the local ordinary. The sister must immediately put off the religious habit. The local ordinary or the superior general (higher superior), if she is present, must without delay submit the matter to the judgment of the Holy See. 56. A sister who has been canonically dismissed is by that very fact freed from all her religious vows. 57. Superior general. The residence of the superior general shall be at the motherhouse and may not be permanently transferred without the consent of the general council and the permission of the Holy See (diocesan: permission of the ordinary of the present and proposed places of residence). 58. With the deliberative vote of her council, the superior general may place certain houses and works under her immediate authority and may also transfer these to a province. 59. The office of the superior general is incompatible with that of local superior, even in the motherhouse, or with that of any other official. '60. General council. The councilors should live at the motherhouse, but in a 218 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 case of necessity two of them, with the exception of the assistant, may live else~,here, provided they can attend the meetings of the council, to which they must always be summoned. The councilors should not be burdened with any employment that might prevent them from fulfilling properly their duties as councilors. Or: At least one councilor, ordinarily the general assistant, must live at the motherhouse. The other general councilors must be assigned to houses from which they can attend the meetings of the council, to which they must always be summoned . . . 61. An ordinary session of the council shall be held every month, but the superior general may convoke the council as often as important affairs are to be discussed. The council may not deliberate unless the president and at least two councilors are present. 62. At the beginning of the session the miiautes of the precedit~g meeting as recorded by the secretary general shall be read. When approved they shall be signed by the superior general and the secretary. 63. The superior general shall then place before the councilors the matters for discussion. When a subject has been stated and appropriate explanatigns given, she shall allow the councilors to speak and shall take care to obtain'the opinion of each. The councilors shall express their opinions with becoming respect, simplicity, and sincerity. 64. When the consent of the councilors is required, the voting must be by secret ballot. The decisions of the council are to be made by an absolute ma-jority. In an equality of votes, the superior general may decide the matter. 65. A full council is necessary for appointments to office. If a councilor cannot be present and the appointment cannot be deferred, a sister of perpetual vows shall be chosen by the councilors as substitute. 66. The superior general may summon sisters who are not councilors for in-formation or advice, but such sisters are never permitted to vote. All who thus attend sessions of the council are 9bliged to secrecy. 67. The superior general must have the deliberative vote of her council in the following cases: (a) Condonation in whole or in part of the dowry (b) Investment of the dowry (c) Determination of the expenses of the postulancy and noviceship (d) Admission to the noviceship and first profession (e) Establishment or transfer of a novitiate (f) Imposition of a formal precept of obedience on the entire congregation, a province, or a house (g) Dismissal of a professed of temporary or perpetual vows and the send-ing of a professed religious immediately back to secular life (h) Convocation of an extraordinary general chapter; designation of the place of the general chapter; inviting of externs and sisters who are not capitulars to the chapter; excusing of a capitular and the summoning of her substitute; compiling of list or groups for the election of delegates; appoint-ment of committees for proposals to the general chapter; and approval of enactments of provincial chapters Typical Constitutions (i) Transfer of the permanent residence of the superior general or of a provincial superior (j) Appointment of a visitor for the entire congregation (k).Choice of a substitute for an absent general councilor (1) Acceptance of the resignation, removal, or deposition of a general coun-cilor or official, and appointment of a successor in these cases (m) Appointment, prolongation of term, transfer, and removal of (provin-cial, regional, and) local superiors, their councilors, secretaries, and treasurers; of a directress or assistant directress of novices, of junior professed, of postulants; instructress of tertians, supervisors of schools and studies, prin-cipals of schools, and administrators of hospitals (n) Placing of houses and works under the immediate authority of the superior general and transferring of them to provinces ¯ (o) Transfer or removal of a superior or official before the expiration of a prescribed term (p) Approval of the accounts of the treasurer general (q) Imposition of an extraordinary tax, investment of money, alienation of ¯ property, contracting of debts and obligations, making of contracts in the name of the congregation, extraordinary expenses, and other matters of a financial nature according to the norms of canon law and the ordinances of the general chapter (r) Establishment, change, and suppression of provinces, regions, and erec-tion and suppression of houses (s) Uniting of the offices of Iota1 superior and local treasurer (t) All matters remitted to the deliberative vote by the general chapter (u) Determination of matters that require the consent or advice of the (provincial, regional, and) local councils. 68. The superior general must have the consultative vote of her council in the following cases: (a) Abbreviation of the added period of the postulancy, noviceship, and temporary vows or other commitment (b) Prolongation of and dismissal from the noviceship (c) Admission to renewal of temporary vows, their prolongation, admission to perpetual profession, and exclusion from renewal of temporary profession and from perpetual profession (d) Declaration of fact for the.automatic dismissal of a professed sister (e) Transfer of a sister from one province to another (f) Approval of the reports of the superior general to the general chapter (g) A practical interpretation of a doubtful point of the constitutions (h) All matters remitted to the consultative vote by the general chapter. 69. Secretary general. It is the duty of the secretary general to assist the superior general with the official correspondence of the congregation. She shall be present at all meetings of the general council and record the minutes of the sessions. She is obliged to secrecy in all that refers to her office. 70. She shall be in charge of the general archives and of all documents relating to the history and administration of the congregation. No document 220 / Review for Religious, l~olume 34, 1975/2 shall be taken from the archives except in conformity with the established regulations. 7 I. The secretary shall compile the annals of the congregation. Every year she shall receive from the local superiors an accurate record of the principal events of their houses. Or: The secretary shall compile the annals of the con-gregation. Every year she shall receive from the provincial (and regional) superiors an accurate record of the principal events of the provinces (regions), and houses. 72. The secretary shall be attentive to all legislation and decrees of the Holy See and to diocesan regulations and civil enactments that affect the congrega-tion, and shall keep the superior general and her council informed on all such matters. 73. The preceding articles apply with due distinctions to (provincial, regional, and) local secretaries. 74. Treasurers. The administration of the temporal goods is entrusted to the general (provincial, regional) and local treasurers under the direction of the respective superiors and the supervision of their councils. The treasurers are obliged to secrecy in all that appertains to their office. 75. The superior general may appoint as many assistants as necessary to the general and local treasurers (general treasurer, and the provincial and regional superior may do the same for provincial, regional, and local treasurers). 76. Treasurer general. The treasurer general manages the financial affairs connected with the general funds. Every six months she must give an account of her administration to the superior general and her council. If everything is found in order, the superior general and the council shall approve her ad-ministration by signing the statement. 77. The treasurer general must see that the (provincial, regional, and) local superiors send a report of their administration to the motherhouse every six months. She shall examine these reports to obtain an exact insight into the financial state of the congregation and its parts and shall give the general coun-cil an accurate account of her examination. 78. Provincial and regional treasurers. The provincial (and regional) treasurer(s) is (are) appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council. Neither the provincial superior nor the assistant provincial may be provincial treasurer. The two preceding articles must be observed also by the provincial (and regional) treasurer with regard to the provincial superior (and the regional superior), her council (their councils), and the local houses. 79. Local treasurers. In each house there shall be a local treasurer, who is appointed by the superior general (provincial) with the consent of her council. Although it is preferable to separate the office of local superior from that of local treasurer, the superior general (provincial), with the same vote of her council, may combine them if this is necessary. 80. The local treasurer shall render a monthly account of her administra-tion to the local superior and her council, who shall examine and approve it ac- Typical Constitutions / 221 cording to the norm of art. 76. Every six months each house shall send an ac-curate financial statement to the superior general (provincial). 81. Administration of temporal goods. Each province must contribute to the general and each house to the provincial (or regional) treasury the sum determined by the general chapter. The superior general with the consent of her council may, when necessary, impose an extraordinary tax on all or some of the provinces and houses or authorize a provincial or regional superior to impose such a tax. 82. Houses or works whose financial responsibility appertains to ecclesiastical or lay administrators and in which the income consists of salaries paid for the sisters shall remit to the general treasury that part of the surplus established by the general chapter. 83. The treasurers validly incur expenses and perform juridical acts of or-dinary administration within the limits of their office. 84. Stocks, bonds, securities, and similar papers shall be placed in a secure safe or safe-deposit box, and the treasurer shall keep an exact record of all such deposits and withdrawals. 85. Each house must maintain an inventory of all property owned by the community. The inventory must be renewed annually for adjustment and depreciation. One copy is to be retained in the house (and another in the provincial or regional house) and one in the files of the treasurer general. An inventory is to be maintained in the same manner for all property owned by (the province and) the congregation. 86. The investment of money should not be made except on the authoriza-tion of the superior general (higher superior) with the consent of her council and ordinarily with the advice of a honest and competent financier. 87. Besides the ordinary expenses, each (province, region, and) house may expend only the sum determined by the general chapter. For other extraor-dinary expenses recourse must be made to the superior general (higher or regional superiors). 88. Provinces. In each house there shall be a provincial house so organized that the proper performance of all provincial duties may be assured. 89. Provincial councilors, secretary, and treasurer. The provincial coun-cilors shall individually submit an annual report to the superior general on the spiritual and temporal state of the province. 90. The provincial superior shall assemble her council once a month; ex-traordinary sessions shall be called when necessary or opportune. 91. The provincial superior must have the deliberative vote of her council for the following acts: (a) Condonation in whole or in part of the dowry (b) Investment of the dowry (c) Determination of the expenses of the postulancy and novicesliip (d) Admission to the noviceship (e) Imposition of a formal precept of obedience on the whole province or an entire house 222 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 (f) Sending a professed religious immediately back to secular life (g) Designation of the place of the provincial chapter, inviting of externs and sisters who are not capitulars to this chapter, excusing of a capitular and summoning of her substitute, compiling of lists or groups for the election of delegates, and the appointment of committees on proposals to the general or provincial chapter (h) Appointment of a visitor for the entire province (i) AppointmenL transfer, and removal of local councilors and treasurers, the assistant directress, of novices, the directress of postulants, principals of ~chools, and the uniting of the offices of local superior and local treasurer (j) Removal or transfer of an official before the expiration of a prescribed term (k) Choice of a substitute for an absent provincial councilor (1) Approval of the accounts of the provincial treasurer (m) Investment of money, alienation of property, contracting of debts and obligations, the making of contracts in the name of the province, extraordinary expenses, and other matters of a financial nature according to the norms of canon law and the ordinances of the general chapter (n) Other matters according to the enactments of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council (o) The determination of matters that require the consent or advice of local councils. 92. The provincial superior must have the deliberative vote of her council for the following requests to the superior general: (a) Erection and transfer of a novitiate and erection and suppression of houses (b) Admission to first profession (c) Dismissal of a professed of temporary or perpetual vows (d) The appointment, proposal of names, removal, deposition, and replace-ment of provincial councilors and officials, local superiors, directress of novices, of junior professed, instructress of tertians, supervisors of schools and studies, and administrators of hospitals (e) The imposition of an extraordinary tax (f) Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council. 93. The provincial superior must have the consultative vote of her council for the following acts or requests to the superior general: (a) To assign the duties of the sisters and to transfer them from one house to another within the province (b) Abbreviation and prolongation of the postulancy, the noviceship, and temporary vows or other commitment (c) Dismissal from the noviceship (d) Admission to renewal of temporary vows (e) Admission to perpetual profession and exclusion from renewal of tem-porary vows a~nd from perpetual profession Typical Constitutions / 223 (f) Declaration of fact for the automatic dismissal of a professed sister (g) Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council. 94. Regions. The regional councilors shall individually submit an annual report to the superior general on the spiritual and temporal state of the region. 95. Houses. At least., sisters must be assigned to a house and adequate provision made for their spiritual assistance. 96. Local superiors. A sister who has been in office for six (twelve) successive years may not again be appointed local superior in any house before the lapse of a (two, three) year(s), except in a case of serious necessity. 97. The local superior shall send a written report once a year to the superior general (provincial) on the spiritual and temporal state of her community. 98. Local officials. In every formal house there shall be two councilors. One is to be designated as assistant and vicar. In smaller houses there is one coun-cilor. The councilors must be sisters of perpetual vows. The local councilors shall write individually to the superior general (provincial) once a year on the spiritual and temporal state of the house. 99. In the absence of the local superior, the assistant shall preside and replace her in whatever is necessary for the ordinary management of the house. 100. The local superior shall convoke her council every month or oftener, if necessary. The norms on the general council, with due distinctions, apply to the local council. Local councilors have only a consultative vote except in the ex-traordinary case mentioned in art. 55 and in matters for which the general chapter or the superior general (or provincial superior), with the consent of her council, has decreed that the vote must be deliberative. 101. The following are the subjects to be discussed by the superior and her council: the fulfillment of the obligations of the religious life and the religious spirit of the community, the occupations of the sisters, the material and finan-cial condition of the house, the work of the school or institution, and the means to be used to encourage works of zeal and to correct deficiencies. 102. Directress of novices. If the number of novices or any other good reason renders it expedient, a sister shall be given as assistant to the directress. The assistant shall be under the immediate authority of the directress in all matters pertaining to the government of the novitiate. She must possess the necessary and suitable qualifications for the office. 103. The directress and her assistant are appointed for three years. Both must be free from all other offices and duties that might interfere with the care and government of the novices. 104. The directress shall grant all ordinary permissions and dispensations to the novices. 105. Every three months the directress must present to the superior general (provincial superior, regional superior) a report on the vocation, character, conduct, progress in.religious life, aptitude,'and state of health of each novice. Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C. Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C., is a faculty member in the Department of Religion; lona College; New Rochelle, New York 10801. "You can't take it with you" is an oft-cited maxim from the treasures of pop-ular wisdom, intended to temper the Faustian spirit within man by the reminder that death will separate him from all possessions, honors, and ac-complishments. The maxim applies not only to our inability to carry possessions beyond the doors of death. It speaks also to our daily experience: it is impossible to hold onto the joys whi,ch life provides. It is like the proverbial efforts of a child trying to capture soap bubbles. Rather than simply delighting in their multi-colored beauty, (he child tries to capture them and, in so doing, destroys them. So it is with pleasure: the attempt to capture the beautiful ex-perience destroys it. The attempt-to-own generates dissatisfaction, disappoint-ment, worry, jealousy, suspicion, envy, and a host of internal cancers, all of which crowd out the simple faculties of enjoyment. Possessiveness, the Enemy of True Delight This suggests an important principle: the enemy of true delight is possessiveness. He who would experience the beauty of God's world, the joys of full human life, must learn to enjoy beauty, love, achievement without try-ing, without wanting, to possess them. This approach--symbolized by open-handed arms, extended to touch without holding--is not easily learned, and yet it is necessary if one hopes to taste fully the joy which life bestows, erratically but prodigally, on those who have discerned her ways. The truly wise person is one who, for example, delights in the excitement of achievement, who knows well the joys of friendship,, who has developed an appreciation for the arts, but 224 Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows / 225 who resists the tendency to possess them. This person knows that, because life is generous, there is no reason to cling to one particular object, person, or ex-perience. There will always be others. The possessive person, on the other hand, bent upon having certain selected experiences, fails to notice and thus enjoy the offerings of a bountiful world. This person has not learned a key truth about human life: the beautiful things in life "happen" and cannot be made to occur or to remain. The effort to force their occurrence, which in-evitably fails, only introduces disappointment and frustration, pain and anger. A new insight into religious life can be gained when it is approached in this context. The three vows, which have been considered descriptive of the religious life, are concerned with three drives within the human spirit which are particularly susceptible to the possessive tendency. It is the thesis of this paper that religious life, as it has been traditionally structured, places a person in a life style which should reduce the pressures leading to possessiveness in each of these areas. Accordingly, each vow involves both a promise to observe a par-ticular life style, as well as a pledge to seek the freedom from possessiveness which that life style is intended to inculcate. In this article, we shall consider separately these three human drives, noting both healthy (nonpossessive) and unhealthy (possessive) forms of each, showing how the religious life style should foster the former. The Vow of Obedience Essential to healthy personality is the sense of fulfillment which one feels when, with body and mind, through ingenuity and hard struggle, one over-comes the forces of disintegration and creates order, beauty and happiness. To know that one has created, has made one's mark upon the world, has con-tributed to the progress of society, is a deeply felt human need. For one who has known this self-affirmation which follows successful creative efforts, work is not drudgery but is an invitation to self-fulfillment. But we often find the possessive tendency present here, adulterating the healthy creative drive, transforming it into a force which is debilitating. The valuable drive to create can give way all too easily to a pathetic search for success and recognition and, then, the energy which should be directed toward creative activity is channeled into frantic efforts to attain or retain positions of prestige. The person who is possessive about success will avoid any under-taking unless there is a guarantee of succeeding. He will pare his life down to a few "safe" activities in which he knows he can succeed, activities in which there is no competition. When he has found something which affords him some recognition, he will jealously protect that position, resenting any newcomers who might replace him. He studiously will avoid challenge. Such are not the ways of the creative person. He, too, enjoys the taste of success and delights in the recognition which accompanies achievement. But he knows that too much concern with success is destructive, distracting,, and futile; therefore he refuses to expend excessive energies in vain efforts to main-tain positions of real or imagined importance. He knows when and how to let 226 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 go of past success: he willingly relinquishes a position when others better qualified are available. He knows when and how to accept a new challenge, even when--especially when--there is no assurance as to the outcome. Such a life is filled with challenge and struggle, and the excitement of knowing that one is attempting the "impossible." It is difficult to be such a person. It is in this context that we might consider the vow of obedience. By the vow of obedience, a religious not only promises to observe the traditions and customs of a congregation but pledges as well the intention to overcome as far as is possible the tendency to be possessive with respect to creative endeavors, the tendency to idolize success, prestige, or power. The religious life style, in which authority is defined in terms of service to the community, where ap-pointments to positions of authority are for relatively short periods of time, where~ one's "standard of living" does not depend upon the positions held--such a life style establishes a milieu which should reduce the tendency to idolize position. The life of religious community should free its members from many of the pressures which are experienced by others in a world where com-petition is the game plan and where concern for livelihood itself forces many to engage, however reluctantly, in a scramble for positions, and a subsequent campaign to eliminate all contenders, once an office is acquired. Unfortunately, there are religious who never take advantage of this freedom which the structure of their life facilitates but who allow possessiveness to color all their activities. There is no automatic relation between the religious life style and true detachment. Many are the religious who carve for themselves niches in life from which they cannot be moved; many are the religious who place great store in the most foolish of honors and distinctions and who jealously resent anyone interested in the same; many are the religious who are fearful of innovation and innovators and allow this fear to paralyze their lives; many are the religious who never experience the sense of power~and of joy which come from struggle against, and success over, difficult odds. Insecurity is not easily overcome. But the point remains that the com-munal life style can facilitate, and is intended to facilitate, a detachment from the vitiating need to achieve success or prestige. Once freed, the creative drive can be a source of happiness, joy, and growth. The Vow of Chastity Little need be said of the important role which the drive toward human relationship can play in the development of mature personality. Love has the ability to shatter, even if only temporarily, the consciousness which walls a per-son off into an isolated, self-absorbed space. Suddenly, or gradually, the ex-perience of giving and receiving love introduces one into a new understanding of life and one's relation to it; it allows one to dispense with unneeded, counter-productive defenses; and it encourages one to "unpretzel" himself, to allow himself to touch and to be touched by powers beyond the self. For many, love is the first experience, the first taste, of that "other life," that other "self," which is within ("the kingdom of God is within you"), waiting to erupt into and Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows / 227 gladden the lives of every person. "God is love" is the way the Christian writers spoke of the sacred, and for many, perhaps most, love relations will remain the door by which they can understand and enter into the Godly perception. Because the experience of love is redemptive, a person understandably wishes to prevent it from being destroyed, diminished, or infringed upon. Unfor-tunately, this healthy wish to protect something important can, and does, easily degenerate into counterproductive efforts to possess and to demand love, which can never be possessed or demanded. And, thus, the salvific drive towards relationship is transformed into a destructive passion. The possessive person mistakenly believes that exclusivity is a prerequisite to deep, "real" love, and thus he reaches out only to those few people from whom he expects near total response. He wants undivided attention from those he loves. In his desire to keep the loved one for himself, he cuts the other off from every outside relationship, interest, and involvement, foolishly thinking that he can be all things to that person. He even views the interests and ac-tivities of the other, when these are not held and enjoyed together, as rivals to be eliminated from the field. And in a similar way, he limits his own world. Cut off thus from the sources of growth, they both die of malnutrition. That is, if they are not first destroyed by the suspicion and jealousy which inevitably plague such possessive relationships. Clinging love, so different from simple love, is a cancer which leaves its host blinded or distraught. How different is the non-possessive person! He fears the human tendency to suffocate loved ones, and therefore he is pleased when the other develops new, outside relationships and interests, knowing that they are the sources of life and growth. He fears as well his tendency to suffocate himself. He knows it is important that he never stop growing in love, that he not cease to meet and commune with the different people life brings into his world. Without denying the special importance of long-standing friendships and loves, the non-possessive person values the opportunities to commune with many people in a lifetime. As he grows in maturity, he finds that it becomes progressively easier for him to let down his defenses, to give and elicit trust and spontaneity in others, to communicate as a person to a person. In other words, he grows in the ability to love. A clarification may be necessary here: at first, the suggestions in this sec-tion might seem to reject the possibility or value of permanent relationships, especially marriage. But a call for non-possessive love should not be confused with an advocacy for that non-responsible form of love which is delighted to be freed from any kind of commitment. In every friendship and romance one takes upon himself responsibilities to the other which perdure even after that mysterious, uncontrollable attraction we call love has passed on. Which is to say that the relationship of friendship or marriage is more than simply a form of intimate intercommunion. In view of this analysis, the vow of chastity might be seen as follows: by the vow of chastity a religious promises not only to live a chaste, unmarried life, but pledges as well his or her intention to eradicate the strong, "natural" 22a / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 propensity toward possessive love and to overcome the "natural" propensity to restrict love and care to a few people over whom he or she can claim an ex-clusive priority. Celibacy is a call to be constantly open to relationship, to be ready to befriend any person met with a non-demanding love. Far from a pledge to live in isolation from human love, the vow of celibacy asks of those so vowed that they strive to love deeply without making claims upon others. Especially it would ask them to fuse this freedom with a concern for the lonely, the unattractive, the fearful. Because the religious neither takes a spouse nor parents children, he or she avoids the temptation to center all one's love and care upon a few people, and the temptation to regard spouse and children as people over whom one has a right to demand love. By opting to live a com-munity life, the religious places himself or herself in a milieu where both the joys and responsibilities of multirelationship are encouraged and facilitated. Thus the celibate life style is a structure which should aid the development of an enlarged and non-destructive approach to the world of intimacy. These comments are not intended to suggest that the celibate form of life automatically engenders this freedom so necessary if one is to know fully the joy of love. Many are the religious who faithfully observe the restrictions of celibate life, but who never attain its spirit: whose relationships with friends or students or colleagues are characterized by ownership, exclusivity, jealousy, and all the concomitant signs of possessiveness. Many are the religious who never find througl~ their celibate life the freedom to enter easily int6 warm, redemptive relationships, who never realize in their lives the truth of the maxim that religious are called to parent thousands. In summary: the vow of chastity has traditionally been presented in terms of sacrifice, a sacrifice which was valued because human relationships were thought to interfere unnecessarily with the search for God or the demands of the apostolate. There is, of course, truth in this argument: as we have seen, love can give birth to a possessiveness which does interfere with a person's service to God and neighbor. The vow might better be supported by a spirituality which differentiates between possessive and non-possessive relationships, which knows that love can be both the source of salvation and the source of destruc-tion. The celibate life, then, is valued, not because it involves renunciation but because it can be a step towai'd the ability to love without that possessiveness which weakens or destroys the consciousness which we call love. The Vow of Poverty Repeatedly in Christian hist6ry, there arose the temptation to embrace Manicheism: to see the world and its joys as the creation of an evil spirit and as traps for the human soul. Against this heresy, orthodox Christian theology has insisted that the God who created man's spirit also created the material world, and that, as the author of Genesis insists, He saw it, and found it to be good. Orthodox spirituality teaches the Christian that he can discover the God of the Gospels reflected in His creation: through the beauty of the world, through the joys which it brings, one meets and touches the sacred. Sensitivity to the beauty Non-pissessiveness and the Religious Vows / 229 of life is'a drive, an important ,one, by which a person can taste and see the goodness of God. The joys of life help man to venture outside his narrow self-world, to discover h~s at-homeness w~th that which is beyond, to understand the truth that one is but a branch whose fulfillment depends upon maintaining unity with the Vine. He who islinsensitive to beauty, whose mind cannot be moved by the complex-powerful-fragile world is indeed a poor man, dis-possessed of a key which can fr~e him from the prison of alienation and from the illusion of i,n, dividualism. ,~s the Christian learns daily when gathered around the Lord s Table, God [is to be found in His world, in the common bread and wine¯ But enjoyment of the world and its pleasures easily parents a possessiveness toward things which is neither healthy nor redemptive. The possessive per-sonality begins to amass, or Idesires to amass, large stores of material belongings, assuming that ownership of things is a prerequisite to enjoying them, is a means of holding onto joy. No sooner ts the beauttful encountered than the possessive person begm,s planmng ways to hold onto the source ofthat pleasure in order to insure that it can be repeated. But experience teaches that this effort to prolong-by-possessing fails¯ It succeeds only in introducing worry, jealousy, and dissatisfaction. This concern for, this worry about, owning becomes so ~mportant that the original goal of enjoyment ~s overwhelmed and forgotten. Time is spent collecting, protecting, preserving, insuringmand these become substitutes for enjoymetlt. In one's desire to hold onto a particular joy, one fads to notice, and therefor~ to respond to, the ~nnumerable joys which prodigal world offers PossessiTe people, people who desire to own a lot, are often people who enjoy very httle. The non-possessive person, precisely because his attentions and energies are not being channeled into the attainment or protection of a few chosen ob-jects of importance, is one who ~an find delight in the most unexpected places, I who is regularly surprised by joy. He understands that the person who wishes to know the joys of this life mus~ resist the ever-present, self-defeating tendency to force their attentions¯ He m!ust learn to touch without holding. Traditionally, the vow of poverty has been understood in terms of sacrifice, a "giving up" of the material world, whose pleasures are sirens to the spirit, diversions from the work of the Master¯ A more balanced, ~ncarnat~onal spirituality would teach Christians to be wary, not of pleasure itself, but of the spirit of possessiveness toward~ pleasure and the world which affords these joys. Such a spirituality woul~l teach Christians that in pleasure they ex-perience the salvific presence of the Creator, and that such appreciationsmfar from being destructive--can be invaluable aids to the spiritual life¯ This spirituality would also maintain that the attractions of the material world can be dangerous, not because they themselves are spiritually injurious, but because they do tend to excite the possessive tendency within a person. Enjoy-ment easily gives way to covetousness, worry, jealousy, frustration, all of which destroy integrity and distract from values. It is this spirit of possessiveness--the need to own, the fear of losing, the desire for more--which is injurious to the life of grace and which must be overcome¯ 230 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 The vow of poverty might be approached in this context: by the vow of poverty, a religious promises not only to live communal life according to the constitutions and customs of his or her congregation, but pledges as well the in-tention to overcome as far as is possible the possessive tendency toward the good things, the pleasures of this world. Communal life, where material resources are shared and where individual worry about present or future needs is considerably reduced, is a structure which should make non-possessiveness toward material things a more easily attained goal. By eliminating many of the pressures of finance which accompany a more individualistic way of life, the common life facilitates the development of that freedom from possessiveness which is essential if one is to live life fully and enjoy properly the things which life provides. This is not to suggest that there exists some automatic relation between observing the requirements of a communal life and achieving a proper interac-tion with material things. Many are the religious who faithfully observe every detail of their communal obligations but who never attain a spirit of freedom from worry and possessiveness about "things," who never come to realize that "freedomrs just another word for nothing left to lose." Many are the religious for whom the life of communal sharing represents deprivation, rather than a door to fuller experience. Nor should one deduce from this approach to pover-ty that there is no sacrifice or renunciation involved in the life of communal sharing. Within most people there is something of the Lucifer who would rather be master in hell than serve in heaven. The desire to possess, to make certain things one's own, is a strong drive, and is controlled only with con-siderable effort and denial. But the point remains: the goal of the vow of pover-ty is not a renunciation of all pleasure, but the purification of one's ability to experience and enjoy God's world. Summary and Conclusion In summary, the three vows reflect three aspects of a central spiritual goal: to experience fully human life without seeking to "possess" its joys. While vowing to observe particular sets of obligations, the religious pledges as well the intention to lead a life characterized by freedom from possessiveness--to attempt a life in which the joys of intimate relationships with people, ap-preciative interaction with things, and genuine rejoicing in successful endeavors do not deteriorate into a jealous demand for attention and affection, into a constant search for things to own, into an idolatrous quest for prestige. These are the ideals of religious life. And, to this writer, the extent to which religious have been successful in realizing these ideals is impressive: Even in times when the spirituality was quite different from that articulated in this article, the writer met many religious men and women who exhibited that joy in life which follows upon a non-possessive stance. Loving and caring in their relationships; appreciative and sensitive to the simplest of pleasures; ready to respond to the challenge with a spirit which so often spelled victory--these describe well the lives Of Non-possessiveness and the Religious l/ows / 231 countless religious men and women. It would seem, then, to this writer, that religious life works. His judgment is favorable because he realizes how power-ful is the possessive tendency within the human spirit, and what a marvelous thing it is to see it mastered. His judgment is favorable because he realizes how difficult it is to learn that "obvious" truth about human life: that "you can't take 'it' with you." The Modern Religious Community and Its Government Sister Mary A lice Butts Sister Mary Alice of the Congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal is a member of the Department of Political Science of St. Francis Xavier University, Sydney Campus; her address is: Holy Angels Convent; P.O. Box 1384; Sydney, Nova Scotia BIP 6K3; Canada. The study of political philosophy involves, for anyone who takes on the exer-cise, a study of the term "community." In the process of such a study, it is not difficult to find some similarities between "community" as it relates to the political scene and the same word as it is used to designate particular religious groups. In the following pages I shall attempt to draw some lessons from political philosophy and then apply those lessons to the community life of religious. I want, first of all, to examine the senses in which the word "community" is used. Then I shall try to apply these findings to "religious communit.y" and specifically to the modern religious community. Finally, I shall look at a few aspects of the methods of governing a modern religious community. Community in Political Thought From the very dawn of the writings of political philosophy, there was a recognition of the fact that ~ human is created as a social being, that he or she can live a complete life only in association with other human beings. Aristotle and the Greeks in general taught that human life could be lived most fully in a small community where every citizen knew every other and each played his part "in ruling and being ruled." All through the history of political theory we recognize the inevitable conflict which must arise between the individual, on the one hand, and the group on the other. Even in philosophy itself, we speak of the whole as composed of heterogeneous parts. The smallest organisms contain 232 The Modern Religious Community and Its Government / 233 cells which strain to go off on their own and we need never be surprised if clusters of human beings living in communities will be less compact, since they are larger and looser. St. Thomas Aquinas and Medieval philosophers in general addressed themselves to the problem of the whole and the parts; that is, to the realization that individual members of any community may be for greater integration or for greater separateness simply because of their individual temperaments. The ones who are for greater integration seek security first; those for greater separateness may be simply moved by a spirit of adventure. For others, the side they choose may depend partly on the theory they hold regarding the nature of the group itself. These ask the question: Is the community a means of supplementing what the individual can do for himself or is it an organic body with a life of its own, in some sense beyond the life of the individual member? This is the question which is posed for the students of political theory. Just to illustrate how one pursues this problem, let us consider a few lines from a text in political thought describing the te~ichings of nineteenth century liberal theorists. The text reads: In the language of Emmanuel Kant, a community is a "Kingdom of Ends." A political problem . . . is a problem in human relations, to be solved with a mutual recognition of rights and obligations, with self-restraint on both sides. Within such a relationship, issues and disagreements will evidently be perennial. ¯. The liberal presumption is that their solution can be found by discussion, by interchange of proposals, adjustment, compromise, always on the assumption that both sides recognize rights and perform obligations in good faith. And the institutions of such a community are thought of as primarily providing the means by which discussion can end in a meeting of minds that reduces coercion to an unavoidable'minimum. They exert authority, but it is a kind of loose-fitting authority which is only rarely burdensome and on the whole is largely self-applied by the people concerned? Religious Community Is More than Political Co~mmunity The above

Issue 34.3 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~ 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $I1.00 for two years; olher countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to repre~nt Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor May 1975 Volume 34 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 Noah Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Models of Spiritual Direction David L. Fleming, S.J. David L. Fleming, S.J., is Co-director of the Institute of Religious Formation at the School of Divinity of St. Louis University; 3634 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Religious men and women today often find themselves in deep disagreement about the role of spiritual direction in their lives. The basic problem lies often enough in the inability to distinguish the various ways of understanding spiritual direction which have been developed in the Christian tradition. A. Models of Spiritual Direction lnspi~:ed by Father Avery Dulles' book, Models of the Church, 1 would like to propose a similar approach.to be used to better our understanding of spiritual direction. Dulles carefully makes the case that church has no single comprehensive definition, but as contemporary theology views it, church is in need of many models held simultaneously to gain a more adequate under-standing. In a similar way, I believe that we will come to a far richer apprecia-tion of spiritual direction if we consider various models which haye tried to capture what it is and how it works. The advantage of models in understanding spiritual direction, just as in working with the notion of church, arises out of the necessary obscurities of religious language and the area of religious experience. Spiritual direction deals with an ultimate level of religious mystery of a God and man love-relationship. As a result, our religious language should be looked upon as forming models because it can only approximate the object which it is trying to grasp. Whenever we use a model conception, we break the illusion that we are actually holding the infinite within the finite structures of our language. Moreover, a variety of models opens up the possibility of our not getting fixed upon any particular one and taking it as an idol. At the same time, through a 35'1 352 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 variety of models we will more easily allow for the greater expression of the subjective element which is at the core of,all religious experience. 1 will propose, then, five models of spiritual direction that are found in our Christian heritage. Spiritual direction can come in a group setting such as faith-sharing groups, small group discussions, or review-of-life groups. But here I will propose five models that deal only with personal spiritual direction, that is, one director with one being directed. For personal direction holds a privileged place in our tradition, and group activity does not eliminate its value or its need. 1 do not pretend that five models form an exhaustive list, but I think that it covers a help.ful spectrum of ideas about spiritual direction as it has come to be understood and practiced in the Church. The five models 1 have chosen are: I) direction as institutionalized; 2) direction as interpersonal relationship; 3) direction as charismatic; 4) direction as sacramental; and 5) direction as incarnational. ! will describe briefly spiritual direction as un-derstood in each of these models, touching somewhat on both the strengths of the model and the weaknesses. In trying to identify each clearly, I face the risk of caricaturing, but that is not my intention. All models should be valued and respected. I) Direction as Institutionalized Spiritual direction is institutionalized in the functions of the novice direc-tor, the designated spiritual director of a seminary, the tertian director, and sometimes the superior, especially as understood in the original role of the ab-bot or in the lgnatian idea of a superior. Direction in this model is carried out particularly by instructing in the spiritual and religious life. Spiritual direction is considered in terms of formation; it has a molding role, and so it connotes a certain control over a person's life development. Oftentimes direction in this model exercises a judgmental role because candidates for religious life or for the priesthood must be declared fit or not fit and so accepted or rejected. Spiritual direction in this designated job-form plays an important part in the Church today, just as it has in past centuries. Among the advantages of this model, the clarity of formation is assured, because the necessary instruction about spiritual development is not left to chance. Definite goals and some set means are a part of the direction ex-change, in this model, we find a certain control over the competency of the director since the "job" of direction was assigned usually by superiors who have judged a person's fittingness for such a role. From the letters of St. Paul giving direction to communities and to individuals, through the early models of direction by the desert fathers, we find deep in Christian tradition the bases of this institutional model. But a number of weaknesses are also apparent in this model. Obviously freedom is minimal in setting up the relationship of direction since the one be-ing directed must subject himself to the person whose function it is to fulfill the assigned job as director. Direction seems to be more a matter of imposition of Models of Spiritual Direction life style and spiritual practices than an evoking of personal growth. Direction also appears to be quite limited in time-value, for it covers primarily the for-mational period or, beyond that, the possible crisis period which needs infor-mation or judgment. 2) Direction as Interpersonal Relationship In this model, spiritual direction is defined primarily in terms of a per-sonal relationship--the closer the friendship the better. Direction, then, usually has the aspect of friendly sharing and loving support. While still main-taining the interpersonal basis, this model of direction sometimes makes studied use of psychological techniques, e.g. the transactional analysis methods. Even with the possibility of a certain psychological approach being consciously employed, direction attempts to focus equally upon the interper-sonal relationship of the two friends (the one directing and the one directed) and the growth in a life-response to God. Frequently in this model, the two people involved exchange roles of director with each other so that spiritual direction becomes a mutual involvement. The strengths of this model are evident in the presence of the love, care, and concern which permeate the relationship in all its aspects. As in any friendship, the free gift of self to each other is assured. Self-disclosure with all its dreams, ideals, fears, and disappointments flows very naturally as the friendship continues to deepen. While contemporary attitudes, especially in reaction to the institutional model of direction, favor this kind of approach, historically it also rests on strong evidence from the example of various saints' friendships with each other and from the written correspondence of direction. When we consider the weaknesses, we note that such a model may overstress the humanistic and so not allow for the distance between reason and grace, which never perfectly coincide. Even though in one sense friends can speak up honestly and forthrightly to each other, in another sense their lack of distance may blind each other to the very areas which need attention. Sometimes even the best of friends find that they are frozen in speaking about one or other area because of the delicacy of the love relationship between them. Another difficulty arises when psychological techniques enter into the picture too consciously; we may find a good helping relationship, but one which takes very little notice of the presence of God or the dynamism of grace. 3) Direction as Charismatic Spiritual direction in this model finds a basis in the diakrisis or discretio of St. Paul's grace-gifts within the Body of Chrigt. Because of the stress upon the special character of this person who is truly a "spiritual discerner," spiritual direction itself is seen as a rarity. St. Teresa of Avila is often quoted in support of this viewpoint because she said that only one person in a thousand is capable of direction work. Just to make the point more clearly, St. Francis de Sales is cited for his observation that a director may number only one in ten thousand. 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Following the biblical image of forgiveness as seventy times seven, both saints are not using modern statistics, but rather they are indicating the special gift which is demanded of the director in spiritual direction work. For spiritual direction as understood here is defined more in terms of insight or infused in-tuition from God. Direction has an aura of the marvelous about it. The emphasis seems to focus more on the arcane directions which will be given to the person directed--special divine messages which come from the "reading of a soul" by the inspired director. The strengths of such a view certainly include the great stress made upon the gift-notion of spiritual direction. Direction in this model catches up two people in the atmosphere of the divine, and the process receives its proper emphasis of being more than human technique and human response, it does point up that a "seeing deeper" with the eyes of faith highlights the relationship of direction. There is a certain basis in both the Old and New Testament, and some examples in Christian hagiography to support such a viewpoint. The weaknesses become apparent in the over-significance attributed to the power of God's grace--looking for its presence only in the spectacular or the marvelous. It seems to restrict God's gifts far too much to the extraordinary in the light of human judgment. As a result, spiritual direction itself becomes an extraordinary means in the life of the Church spiritual tradition. But the history of spirituality does not support this conclusion. 4) Direction as Sacramental Spiritual direction has long been seen in terms of a sacramental model because of the confessor-penitent relationship in the sacrament of penance. Because of the sacramental grace of priestly ordination, the priest himself was seen to be a very special instrument of God and to embody the gifts of ministry which we find in the writings of St. Paul. The words which a priest speaks, then, have greater importance than mere human opinion or advice because they are spoken by God's human representative. More particularly, within the sacrament of penance the priest-confessor often has words of advice or counsel. This context becomes the only true setting of spiritual direction because of the certain ex opere operato effect of words spoken within the sacramental encounter. Such counsel within the context of the sacrament takes in, not just the area of sinful tendencies, but all the attitudes and ways of acting which relate to the God-orientation of a person's life. The advantages of this model include the emphasis given to a more balanced sense of the sacrament of penance. Confession itself is not a mechanistic forgiveness; it has a human relationship involved between the priest-representative of the Church and the penitent. There is no doubt that God-inspired words of counsel or advice do take place in the sacramental con-text. Yet as every priest knows experientially, such words cannot be presumed automatically--one flagrant handicapping of God's action being the prepared Models of Spiritual Direction / 355 little "sermon" which each penitent, no matter what he may confess, may receive on a particular Saturday confession period. But two-human beings, so consciously aware of the special presence of God in the sacramental relationship, are both more readily open to the word of God being spoken and being received. The merit of this viewpoint rests upon a long tradition stem-ming from the penitential manuals of the Irish monks of the eighth century to the more contemporary confession manuals dating from the seventeenth cen-tury in which direction brings a fullness to and finds its proper setting in the sacrament of penance. The weaknesses of such a model are found in the restrictions which it puts upon spiritual direction itself. Because of the sacramental setting, a priest is the only qualified spiritual director. Direction, then, flows properly from the ministry of priesthood. If other men and women carry on this work, it is only as "secondary" helpers to the priest who gives over to them this function. This viewpoint seems to take for granted that priesthood ministry inclu.des all the ministries to be found within the Church, but this conception has no sound basis in scripture or tradition. Direction in this model also takes on too magical a sense in that whatever is said within the context of the sacrament becomes true spiritual counsel. 5) Direction as Incarnational This model of direction is one that is probably receiving most attention to-day in the revival of the practice of spiritual direction. The name incarnational given to describe it calls a little too ostentatiously to the Christian connotation of God-becoming-man. Spiritual direction takes it place among the many "fleshly" means which make up God's ordinary way of salvation as un-derstood in Christianity. From Jesus Christ through the Apostles down to our own contemporary Church, we know that God has a design of salvation mediated by our fellowmen. Direction, then, is seen in its ordinariness of one man helping another to clarify and objectify God's will in his life. At the same time, direction is known to be a relationship of two persons caught up in the presence and power of God in this very ordinary encounter, and so both are aware by faith of the privileged grace-time which direction makes available. Elements which are present in the incarnation of the God-man have their analogous components in the direction relationship. Human preparation, faith, and an openness to the movement of God are necessary, and then a recognition that any true fruition of the direction relationship comes from the Spirit. This model of direction is also properly identified as incarnational in that no aspect of a person's life is left apart from the direction context, since man as a whole--physically, psychologically, and spiritually--must grow in his response to God's unique call to him. The advantages of this model are especially seen in terms of the developments of our own day. It presents a conceptual notion of direction that is deeply in tune with the whole process of renewal in the Church. It builds 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 upon the richness of contemporary scriptural and theological studies, par-ticularly in the areas of Christology and Ecclesiology. It maintains a sure emphasis on the humanness of this relationship in direction, while still placing the solidity of growth as a God-empowered gift. Direction in this model is an ordinary means of spiritual growth in the embodied spirituality which is Christianity. This way of understanding direction has good foundation in both scripture and tradition since we find God acting through men in giving advice and warning (e.g. Jeremiah), in making a person aware of how to listen to God (e.g. Samuel and Saul), in clarifying and objectifying a response (e.g. David and Nathan), and in instruction (e.g. Ananias and Paul). The example con-tinues in the many volumes of spiritual writings and letters which we have as a legacy from holy men and women in our Catholic history. The weaknesses of this model arise somewhat from the novelty of its recent re-emphasis. It may too easily be seen as a good human relationship sprinkled over with pious words about God's will. Direction may look so ordinary that the only conclusion to be drawn is that everyone needs it and is capable of profiting from it and just about everyone has the ability to give direction. Then, too, taking in the whole of one's life as the subject-matter seems to leave this model of direction open to a lack of preciseness--no clear understanding of the concerns of direction or the ways of going about it. In a similar way, direction seems to lack clarity about the quality of this spiritual relationship--mixing friendship and distance or professionalism, and or-dinariness and the sense of the holy. B. A Model of Models? In review, all the models have played and do play an important part in our full understanding of spiritual direction--what it is, who does it, to whom it has value, how to go about it, and so on. What 1 hope to have shown is that we can understand spiritual direction in various ways (not just one right way), and that as a result there are various expectations on the part of the director and the one being directed, various methods of directing, and even different ways of valuing its importance for mature spiritual life. To try to reduce the various models of spiritual direction to a single one is to lose sight of the incomprehensible richness of religious experience which forms the content of direction. Neither the strengths nor the weaknesses of the various approaches or models are neatly reducible to a single model. Even after describing each model in its purity, we should be aware that a blending often happens in ~ictual praciice. What we tend to do is to make one model our pivotal model for adapting and understanding other ways of functioning in spiritual direction. But to hold one model as pivotal is quite different from maintaining that there is only one way of understanding and practicing spiritual direction. If I were to opt for a pivotal model for our own day, 1 would choose direc-tion described as incarnational. I believe that it allows for a greater understand-ing of the continuing importance of spiritual direction, especially for the men Models ojSpiritual Direction / 3!i7 and women who have recognized or who are in the process of recognizing the call to specialized ministry roles within the Church. It also more easily allows for the importance of other understandings of direction and other methodologies according to circumstances, though it maintains an adequacy for its own method as a common pattern. Far more work must still be done to gain .an appreciation of the richness which we possess in the Christian practice of spiritual direction. Presently, to be able to hold the different models of direction in tension allows us to draw a little closer to a more adequate truth and a more varied beauty which encompass the mystery of spiritual direction ministry. Creative Response To A Call Within "The Call" Sister Marie Gatza, I.H.M. Sister Marie Gatza, I.H.M., participated in the Workshop of National Vocation Directors which met at Mercy Center in Farmington, Michigan, during the summer of 1974. She is Assistant General of the Sisters Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary; Saint Mary Convent; Monroe, Michigan 48161. The area of "Transfer," is, I am told, fast becoming a matter of concern among Vocation Directors. In the past, there have been rare instances of transfers centered mostly on permissions given to leave an active for a con-templative congregation, a less strict order for a stricter one. However, the topic of "Transfer" is a relatively recent new-comer among religious life con-cepts within Congregations of women in the United States, and so not too much has yet made its way into current literature. Opportunities to learn more about the idea of "Transfer,'" "therefore, come best through situations like the workshop of Vocation Directors at Mercy Center in Farmington where during the Summer of 1974, I had the privilege of contributing the ideas developed in this essay. In trying to think how I could most effectively focus the concentration of workshop members on the topic of"Transfer," 1 found that four key questions readily surfaced: I. Why would a Sister desire to leave her parent Congregation? 2. What factors greatly influence the thinking of Sisters in their search for a Congregation into which they can transfer? 3. What motivation would impel a Congregation to welcome into its membership a Sister who has already finalized her commitment in another Congregati6n? 358 Creative Response to a Call Within "The Call" / 359 4. Given mutuality on the part of the Sister to enter and of the Congrega-tion to receive, what procedural steps are basic to achieving the transfer of a Sister from one Congregation to another? I would like to treat each of these questions, now, in some detail. Then in addition to these four questions, it seems well to attend, even briefly, to the beginnings of evaluation of the concept of "Transfer" as we perceive it operating today within religious Congregations. I Why do Sisters feel convinced that they must leave the Congregation in which they pronounced Perpetual Vows? Because the reasons given by each of the Sisters cited here are so in-dividual, it would not be wise--or even possible--for me to generalize in response to this question. What we can do, however, is to take some mini-glimpses into the lives of a few Sisters who saw "Transfer" as vital to the continuance of their religious commitment. From them we may learn that the motives which led Sisters to request transfer are many and varied. My first example is SISTER P who had been for almost twenty years a member.of a cloistered Congregation, which recently, as a matter of entering into renewal of Religious life, permitted coursework for its Sisters on the cam-puses of nearby Catholic colleges. Sister P was greatly enthusiastic about her opportunity for college education, and discovered that she had a gift for and a great desire to impart knowledge to others in a classroom situation. She found the world of apostolic teaching increasingly fascinating, and at the same time was aware of a persistent questioning within herself as to whether she was really fitted for, or any longer drawn to the contemplative life, despite the years she had already spent within it. She asked for a leave of absence in order to test out her vocation in a Congregation whose main apostolic thrust is education. SISTER N became a candidate in the Congregation of her choice after completing secondary school, and entered, with apparent enthusiasm, into full-scale studies toward becoming a teacher in the Congregation's apostolate of education. Toward the end of nearly twenty years of service in various schools, and maintaining only love and reverence for her own active congregation, she felt the persistent call of the Lord to continue'her religious life in a more con-templative setting. Her transfer to a contemplative community was, therefore, effected. SISTER T's story is a second testimonial to the fact that transfer is a two-way proposition: some come, others go. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Sister T, brilliantly endowed intellectually, chose to transfer from the original foundation Motherhouse of her congregation to one of its branches. Her choice for this action seemed to be motivated by the fact that the style and tempo of that community much more surely encompassed her thoughts on renewal in religious life than did that of her own Congregation. When SISTER S first came into contact with the congregation into which she ultimately transferred, she was in her early thirties, and had already been questioning her current situation in religious life. Sister S's diocesan Com-munity consisted of only thirty-four, mostly older members, who in Sister's es-timation had not sufficient theological background to enable them to cope with renewal. At the offset, Sister's motivation for approaching another religious con-gregation was primarily one of a desire to earn her degree. In the course of completing her studies, she came into close contact with the life-style of the faculty, Sisters who were her peers in the Juniorate, and a number of other Sisters belonging to the Congregation which staffed her college. At gradua-tion, Sister realized that the determination to transfer was still much alive within her, and took a most natural next-step: seek transfer permanently to that congregation. SISTER G, educated in elementary an'd secondary schools staffed by Sisters dedicated primarily to education, chose to enter another congregation whose apostolate included social work, for which she felt-a strong inclination. Ironically, at the time she requested entry into religious life, the congregation of her choice was in great need of teachers rather than of social workers, and so, Sister G was educated for the teaching field, a profession in which, however, she learned to find joy and satisfaction. After 19 years in community, Sister G's mother became ill and was in desperate need of her help. Sister appealed to her Provincial, requesting to live and teach with the group of Sisters in the town where her mother's home was located, a move that enabled her to be closer to her mother. Because Sister G's congregation at the time did not approve of inter- Congregational living situations, she was required to take a leave of absence in order to'care for her mother. Sister's two years of leave were painful ones for her in that she felt an absence of support from her Congregation, and grew in-creasingly concerned that her request to care for her mother in this way had displeased her former superiors. A sense of disappointment,-discouragement and alienation resulted. Meanwhile, her conviction of being at home and loved in her temporary living situation became more compelling, and Sister's thoughts focused on the advisability of asking for a transfer. Her present status 'is one of preparing to finalize her commitment to the Lord in her new Congregation. SISTER M is a promising young Ph.D., gifted as well with an unusually Creative Response to a Call Within "The ('all" / 361 strong sense of commitment to religious life, and a very real love and loyalty to her own Congregation. Sister M's reason for seeking transfer is expressed clearly in this sentence taken from one of her letters: "I am reluctant to make this transfer, but have found peace of mind with the decision, since affiliation with the community, ¯ promises greater freedom to respond to the heart of my religious vocation and to the needs of the Church as ! understand them." Interestingly, Sister M is at the present moment making one last effort to work things out with her own Congregation. I do not know whether or not her transfer will materialize. These examples, though few, indicate that reasons for thinking of transfer are much conditioned by a variety of circumstances in which Sisters find themselves. I1 What considerations greatly influence the thinking of Sisters in their search for a specific Congregation into which they would hope to transfer? I suppose that it would be next to impossible to make a comprehensive listing of the factors influencing Sisters in their search for another Congrega-tion in which they can live out the religious cohamitment already begun in the first, their parent Congregation. It is my experience that most Sisters who are interested in a possible transfer express in some way a feeling of affinity with the "new" Congrega-tion, and a supportiveness toward its thrust in Renewal. Where a House of Prayer has developed, for example, many Sisters relate very positively to the significance accorded this growing movement in the Christian life of our day, and are attracted by the centrality of importance accorded to both personal and communal prayer. Again, a basic belief in, and an inner assurance of, competency in relation to the apostolate of the new Congregation seems to enter significantly into a Sister's choice of a Community to which she might like to transfer. Sometimes, style Of living is an important consideration. A person's contact in childhood with the elected Congregation, that is, in elementary or secondary school years, or contact with members of a given Congregation in adult years may influence the Sister'.s decision to opt for one Congregation rather than another, if a transfer is sought. Occasionally, a more insightful approach is brought to the resolution of this question, i.e. "which Congregation?" ! recall, for example, a Sister who had entered religious life as an Aspirant after completing the eighth grade. Twelve years later, having pronounced perpetual vows, Sister asked to be ex-claustrated from her Congregation for the purpose of searching out whether religious life should c~ntinue to be her life-style. Her searching she did under direction, concluding that, yes, religious life was, indeed, what the Lord was :362 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 calling her to live; bt~t not, however, within the Congregation she had entered. After asking herself what it was within the spirit and heritage of her own Congregation that had been most helpful and inspirational to her, really at the heart of her vocation, Sister contacted better than a.dozen Congregations ask-ing for brochures. These she studied for indications of the traits that best em-bodied the spirit of the Congregation in which she had made her vows. In the end, it was the Congregation which she thought did this best that she ap-proached asking for a transfer. But whatever the method used, or whatever the degree of logic or clearness of purpose perceived by the Sister considering transfer, I believe it is fairly safe to say that the seeker is hopeful of finding in the new Congregation cir-cumstances that will be favorable for her living, in some rewarding way, a commitment which means very much to her; circumstances which for some reason or other may have been painfully absent in her life in Community up to this point. III What would be the motivation of a Congregation which welcomes as a new member o fits own a Sister who has already lived under permanent profession within another Congregation? First off, let's clarify one point beyond any confusion. There is probably small encouragement in the Church for supporting transfer at all. The nature of religious commitment, as it has been historically understood and accepted, i.e., "Community", "family", "leader-followers" concepts, argues for permanency within the parent Congregation. We have learned to speak of the "charism" of a Congregation: that unique spirit that characterizes a group of Sisters as a religious Congregation. Although it is hard to put one's fingers on exactly what it is that distinguishes one Congrega-tion from another, no one will deny that there is a certain something, a family bond or spirit which is recognizable to the members, and, to an appreciable ex-tent, able to be detected by outsiders, as well. In some effective way, it seems that the act of transferring from one Congregation to another has to take this matter of Community-charism into consideration. Granting this fact, even slight reflection leads to the conviction that transfer is not an action one opts to pursue lightly when life's more adven-turous movements taper, off into routine. No. To transfer from one's Congregation to another can result in virtually total uprooting, loss of friends, and severance from all that has been familiar for the individual. Should transfer become a more.common pr~actice, we could anticipate con-sequences for the parent Congregation, also. Loss of morale within the ranks, and diminished confidence in the Community outlook and thrust on the part of many of the members can develop exceedingly fast, as we have all learned through our own decrease in numbers sustained in recent years. Creative Response to a Call Within "'The Call" / 363 These considerations being so, a large number of transfers could hardly be thought desirable. One might ask, then, why do leaders of Congregations entertain the idea of transfer at all? Their motivation has to arise from a basic reverence for each individual call to religious life, and a desire to support a fellow Sister in her efforts to re-main faithful to her vocation, even if it means a painful re-planting. Those sup-porting transfer would have to act from a willingness and desire: a. to provide for a Sister some "time" and "space" away from her Congregation in which she can be free to sort out priorities while still being basically observant of the life style of a religious, -or-b. to provide a Sister with an opportunity to embrace the life and mission of a new Congregation for the sake of remaining faithful to her commit-ment to Christ, when it becomes apparent that she can no longer achieve this end within her own Congregation, -or much more rarely, willingness to engraft upon one's own Congregation (as was recently the case within a diocesan group in one of our Eastern States) a whole Com-munity of Sisters when a basic similarity of spirit, or charism prevails in the two Congregations in question. These thoughts indicate in some way, why a Congregation is sometimes willing to accept Sisters asking for a transfer. IV Given a Sister who believes she needs to have a new setting in which to continue living her religious vocation, and given a Congregation willing to think of her as a potential new member of its own, what must be done? The essentials are not too numerous, in my .experience. a. Willingness of the General Superiors of both Congregations to allow and welcome the fact of a transfer, is undoubtedly, of the essence. b. Some good help provided the Sister in discerning whether transfer is, in-deed, the Lord's will for her seems essential too. c. And, of course, proper transactions with Rome are required for the ob-taining of the needed "paper"--the Rescript of Transfer. Of these three, the step which admits of many specifics is the second one; the discernment process. Taking more time than not enough at this point, and being free to meet the individual needs of the Sister is a matter that must 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 receive priority at all costs. The space of a year, or more, can very profitably be employed in initially resolving the question of whether it would be mutually advantageous to bring about a transfer, and then of building a readiness for a transfer which is directed to future personal and apostolic fruitfulness for the Sister and for her new Congregation. In my Congregation, which has been open to requests of Sisters to transfer, dealing with Sisters who are thinking about this possibility is a work delegated to the Assistant of the General Superior. It is her responsibility as contact per-son to keep the General Superior and Provincials aware of the Sister's progress at stated times throughout the year. It is also understood that the contact person in some suitable way perform the following duties in re to the Sister seeking to transfer: I. The Contact person enables the Sister to find a situation in which she will live and work among her new Sisters as an actual member of her own Congregation for at least one year before any formal request is made to Rome. During this year a two-way evaluation is on-going: on the part of the Sister who is acquainting herself with the new Com-munity; and on the part of the chosen Community which tries to ask honestly: "Can our Congregation assist this Sister in her living of a healthy religious life and further our Community interests as well by welcoming her into our midst?" 2. The Contact person makes efforts to assist the Sister to become familiar with the members of the elected Community and their life-st'yle, Constitutions, prayer, Community history, and so on. 3. She arranges a realistic and practical system of contacts by means of which she herself, will keep in close contact with the possible transfer- Sister throughout the year. 4. It is her responsibility to establish, as well, during the year, some means of contacting the Sisters residing with Sister-transfer to see how they in-teract with her and she with them. 5. The Contact person may significantly assist her Superior in preparing the portfolio of materials needed to formalize the transfer at Rome, and within both Congregations of Sisters. 6. She enters into facilitating plans for the liturgical celebration marking completion of transfer. 7. She, finally, keeps files current: documents, letters, various com-munications. These suggestions form'at least a working outline of practical steps that will take on significance during the discernment period, especially. Here, then, are some thoughts on each of the four questions presented in the beginning of this essay. I have shown that transfer from one Congregation to another is possible; and while certainly not giving the last word on how it can come about, I have indicated the outline of a procedure for a starter. With Creative l~,esponse to a Call Within "The Call" / 365 all of this, ~owever, there is a yet unasked, but key question that must be sur-faced: I When all the externals and!formalities of the transfer have been com-pleted; when the document~ have been validated; when the ceremonial commemorating the event l~as become a matter of history, it still seems imperative to ask: Did a transfer really occur? Is it possible for a person to sink permanent roots in new soil twice in the space of a single, human lifetime? What sort of on-going~considerations would have to be borne in mind by the "new" community and satisfactorily dealt with by the transferred Sister so that she will not: -- be constantly lone!y? -- be often lacking in ~nderstanding because her past is so foreign in many ways fro~ the past of those with whom she now lives? -- be many times Iook~ing backward to a chapter of her life which is largely unsharable with others and now closed even to herself?, These questions--very real and, sometimes, harsh, lead one, unerringly to the ultimate question: "For h~w many can transfer really be an alternative'?" This presentation really c~uld end with the question 1 have just posed. Ho ever, as a kind of epilog~te, let me ask one further: w'what would happen were it possible for a Sister to live within another Congregation on an extended leave until such time arrived at which she could return in dignity an~ peace and joy to her own Congregation?" Might not this be an unusu~ai service of love that a Congregation could ex-tend not only to an individual ~eligious, but to its Sister-Congregation, as well? it's worth a thought! I Integrity in the Religious Life Sister Mary John Mananzan, O.S.B. Sister Mary John Mananzan is attached to St. Scholastica's College; 2560 Leon Guinto, Sr. St.; P.O. Box 3153; Manila, Philippines. There are virtues which are so all-encompassing that one can explain the other facets of religious life through them. It is not infrequent to explain religious life primarily through one of the vows--(of poverty, of chastity, and obedience) or primarily as a life of love and from there explain all its other features. One such encompassing virtue which, however, is rarely used to view religious life, is integrity. And it is not infrequent that religious people who ex-hibit m~iny external manifestations of virtue can be lacking in integrity. This lack of integrity .can be so subtle that such religious people become a real problem to honest but simple people who deal with the.m. These cannot put their .finger to a particular fault but somehow .they feel something is wrong somewhere. This article will try to analyze situations that exhibit the presence of integrity or the lack of it particularly in the religious life. Integrity is a many-faceted word. Its nuances encompass different but related levels of meaning--from honesty to wholeness of being. But all along this spectrum of meaning runs a single beam that relates them to each other, namely TRUTH. Integrity describes the many aspects of being true. That is why it is a basic virtue. Without it all other seeming virtues are a show and the lack of it makes any manifested virtue suspect. The most basic meaning of the word is "wholeness" or oneness. A religious who is a "whole" is one who has achievi~d a certain harmony in his being, which presupposes a basic self-understanding and self-acceptance. Further-more he has a certain sense of reality and a coherent system of values which form the framework for this authentic self-awareness. Most religious tend to mature intellectually before they do emotionally and morally. There is thus a Integrity in the Religious LiJ~" / certain incongruence and inconsistency in their life. They can give very good lectures, sermons, or write beautiful articles about behaviour, attitudes or vir-tues which can be sadly lacking in their lives. The catching up of one's emotion and one's will with one's insight is a progressive growth in integrity and wholeness. This tendency of the earlier maturation of the intellect may explain the expert way religious.can rationalize actions which deep in their heart they feel guilty about. Laymen can be more honest about their faults than many religious because they don't need to live up to an image. Religious on the other hand have to live up to the imperatives that rule their lives--the imperative to perfection, the imperative to excellence, the imperative to fidelity, the im-perative to unselfishness, the imperative to sacrifice, etc. There is thus a ground for varying degrees of hypocrisy in the religious life ranging from unconscious inconsistency, through semi-conscious in-congruence to alarming schizophrenic tendencies. In this connection, one can look at the crisis of celibacy today as the crisis of integrity. Celibacy can be viewed as the virtue of integrity par excellence. The fact that physical integrity is a sign of virginity is a significant symbol of the main characteristic of celibacy which is personal wholeness. Lived celibacy is not just renunciation but it is at the same time a fulfillment--namely the coming together of heart, mind, body in a singleness of purpose of serving God and being wholly there for others. Any religious who has had a crisis of celibacy must have undergone the literally heart-rending experience of being drawn to two poles--to the demand of the religious life and to the preoccupa-tion with the person with whom one is emotionally involved. Even without indulging in sexual relationships this inner splitting of one's heart threatens one's integrity as a religious. Sooner or later one will reach a critical point which can result in two ways: It can result in a greater wholeness, in a greater integrity due to a conscious re-direction of one's being to one's religious commitment or to a totally new way of life. But it can also lead to disintegration in one who refuses to heal the dichotomy of his heart. At this point all the other forms of lack of integrity will come in--justification, dis-simulation, outright deceit. The more clever the religious the more ingenious the rationalization. The whole of theology can be overhauled to justify the in-fidelity of the human heart, In those who have come to the point of indulging in sexual relationships, the element of passion comes in which blinds them to an almost unbelievable degree. It is not just a matter of moral disintegration that ensues; it can mean a disintegration of pe~sonality. Whole articles can be written about the so-called "third way." Here, only its effect on one's integrity has been discussed. Less dramatic but nevertheless harmful forms of lack of integrity can be found among religious. Where positions of power are held, there certain danger to one's integrity is present. As has already been said, the imperatives of the religious life conditions the failings of religious to be less glaring, less gross, more subtle, more refihed, and consequently more insidious. One can, 361~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 for example develop a way of manipulating facts to serve one's purposes, it is not a matter of downright deception or lie but a way of leaving out facts or choosing them or presenting just an angle of them in order to get what one wants. One cannot put a finger on any downright falsified item but the whole thing is a lie nevertheless. The manipulation of reality can be so subtle that only the most clever can see through the whole scheme and yet ordinary people have an uneasy feeling about it. A more serious form of this lack of integrity is the manipulation of people. It is bad enough to manipulate facts, it is worse to manipulate people. There are clever persons who can play on the weaknesses and strength of other people to their advantage. When one has a project all wiles will be exerted to manipulate people into it. This can lead to sickening forms of "false sweetness," to borrow from the little girl who transformed the 8th commandment into--"Thou shal( not bear false sweetness against thy neighbor." For a positive treatment of integrity, one has to go back to the basic mean-ing given earlier in the article, namely--wholeness. There is in the religious who has achieved a certain amount of integrity, a certain consistency and con-gruence which gives his personality an identifiable core. This gives him a cer-tain reliability and trustworthiness lacking in "shifty" personalities. One. knows where one stands with him. One is aware of encountering someone who remains what he essentially is in differing circumstances. He is real! This solid ¯ reality of his personality is, moreover, transparent, not made opaque by masks, pretensions, dissimulations, or defenses. He is by this very fact vulnerable, because he does not change color like a chameleon or become elusive like an eel. Therefore his weak points are apparent and open to attack. But even this vulnerability is an asset because it is what makes him at home with all men. The link that binds human beings is most often their capacity to be hurt rather than their invulnerability, their common misery rather than the superiority or achievement which set some apart from others, It is a vulnerability that survives being pierced without falling apart. The process of personality integration is an on-going one. A person who has reached a certain degree of integrity continues to make experiences which are to be integrated into his personality if they are to become meaningful to him. One's integrity when one's world is still relatively simple is qualitatively (not only in degree) different from that which one has achieved after going' through major life experiences. There are experiences that are more easily in-tegrated than others because of their familiarity and relative lack of impor-tance. Utterly new experiences, shattering or overwhelming ones are more dif-ficult to integrate. These can cause crisis situations. A person of integrity however, can undergo the most serious crisis, even one caused by his own failings and therefore incurring real guilt without suffering a personality dis-integration. He somehow arises from the ruins battered but whole. He is able to integrate even these negative experiences into his life making him richer and. even more whole because of the confirmation of the links that unite his per-sonality. Integrity in the Religious Life / 369 This is probably the reason why religious who sense an inner integrity in their being tend to take more risks and are less bound by conventions or legalistic observance of rules. They have a sure instinct for what is right, what is true, what is demanded by a situation, what is false or genuine in people they live with. Because of all these, they enjoy an inner freedom which makes them more creative and innovative in the living of their religious commitment. Reprints from the Review "The Confessions of Religious Women" by Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. (25 cents) "Institutional Business Administration and Religious" by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. (20 cents) "Authority and Religious Life" by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. (20 cents) "The Death of Atheism" by Rene H. Chabot, M.S. (20 cents) "The Four Moments of Prayer" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (25 cents) "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" by the Congreg~ition for Religious (35 cents) "Meditative Descriptiori of the Gospel Counsels" (20 cents) "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer" by Herbert Francis Smith, S.J. (25 cents) "Religious Life in the Mystery of the Church" by J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. (30 cents) "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (30 cents) "Consciousness Examen" by George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. (20 cents) "Retirement or Vigil?" by Benedict Ashley, O.P. (25 cents) "Celibacy and Contemplation" by Denis Dennehy, S.J. (20 cents) "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat" by Herbert F. Smith, S.J. (20 cents) "The Healing of Memories" by Francis Martin (20 cents) Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Religious Government: A Reflection On Relationships Sister Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M. Sister Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M., whose reflections here have grown out of her experience with the nine provinces of the Sisters of Mercy as well as conversations with members of many other congregations, resides at the Generalate of the Sisters of Mercy; 10000 Kentsdale Drive: P.O.,Box 34446; West Bethesda, Maryland 20034. The renewal of religious life inaugurated by Vatican II required the adaptation of every aspect of that life, both external practices and internal attitudes. One of the most readily observable of these external areas is that of religious government, the network of structures which regulate the interrelationships of members and groups within a community. If the revitalization of communities in the light of Gospel vision and community charism was to occur, the Council saw that it had to be done in the light of the "physical and psychological con-ditions of today's religious," "the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, (and) the social and economic conditions everywhere."' More particularly, the Council specified that the way in which communities are governed had to be re-examined in the light of these same standards.~ In order for renewal to truly involve and touch each member of a com-munity, structures had to be altered in order to create channels for each in-dividual voice. Moreover, the spirit of collegiality and subsidiarity which enlivened the Council itself implied the necessity for structures of participative decision-making within other Church groups, such as dioceses, parishes, and religious communities. Before renewal began, role definitions of officials in religious communities (e.g., major superiors, councilors, local superiors) had 'Vatican Council II, Perfectae Caritatis. no. ~. ~lbid. 370 Religious Government." A Reflection on Relationships / 37"1 ¯ provided predictable patterns of decision-making. Furthermore, little revision of rule or policy was required from year to year in an era when lack of change was valued as a sign of strength; constitutions and custom books provided guidelines for every situation, whether of great or trivial importance. With the recognition of the need for on-going adaptation, however, structures had to be altered to provide for on-going participation in the vision-building and direction-setting of a community by every member of that community. Not only was widespread grassroots participation needed for the successful carry-ing out of the special general chapters which inaugurated adaptation, but government plans had to be tailored to allow for continuing involvement in the affairs of the community. At least five years have elapsed since this work began, and some obser-vations can be offered as the fruit of a backwards glance over those years. The remarks which follow can be characterized as insights gleaned from observing the efforts of many communities to re-structure their governments into more responsive and responsible models. They are reflections on the phenomena--not evaluations from a religious or a theological point of view. This work of evaluation is certainly called for, but first we must form a good idea of what is happ.ening before we probe further. The following observations apply to representative bodies, to administrative groups, and to the methods whereby leadership is selected. Representative Bodies The ultimate authority in a religious community has always been vested in its general chapter. Accordingly the efforts to update communities had to begin here in a twofold sense: the chapter itself had to be updated as an instru-ment of leadership and then it, in turn, had the responsibility to inaugurate change in every Other aspect of community life. To this end communities modified their chapters in various ways and, in some cases, supplemented them with other representative groups described variously as assemblies, boards, and congresses. All .of these representative bodies are discussed together here, because certain observations can be made which pertain to all of them. Therefore, in the paragraphs which follow, "chapter" is used to refer to any representative body with responsibility to and for an entire religious in-stitute or a large portion thereof, e.g., a province. I. Most representative bodies have been made truly representative. Great progress has been made here, in the sense that chapters are no longer con-trolled by a preponderance of ex-officio delegates. In most cases the size of the group has been expanded and communities have been diligent in trying to bring together a genuine cross section of the congregation--diversified as to age, apostolic experience, community experience, and geographic location (in instances where a community is widespread). One thing we have learned here, however, is that this effort has its own inherent limitations, in the sense that to specify the configuration of the delegate group too particularly may arbitrarily 372 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 limit the freedom of the community members to have the representatives of their choice. In other words, suitable chapter delegates are not always or necessarily found in equal proportions in each geographic region or age group. 2. A distinction between the chapter and other non-legislative representative groups is not always viable in practice. This observation applies to those com-munities which have created an additional representative group to serve in the interim between chapter sessions in an advisory .capacity to the administrative group (major superior and council). The composition of this new group usually overlaps, to a large extent, the chapter membership, so a certain confusion of roles and responsibilities results. As chapter members, while the chapter is in session, the delegates have dominative authority over the affairs of the in-stitute or province. As assembly members, however, the delegates have only a consultative function. However, a crisis of confidence in the leadership of the administrative group would soon develop if they overrode or ignored the con-sidered judgment of the assembly very often. So, in practice, the assembly becomes, effectively, legislative or policy-making. Also, assembly members would soon lose interest in serving in that capacity if the matters submitted to them were not of real significance and/or if their judgments were not adopted and implemented by the administrative group. Therefore, the tendency is for such assemblies to either develop a quasi-legislative function or else to be con-sistently frustrated by the ineffectiveness of their role. The question must be asked, though, how many significant agenda items are t~ere which should receive the attention of a broad-based chapter group? It would seem that on many issues the administrative group would profit more from consultation with a more specialized committee within the community, such as the representatives of one particular area of apostolic service, than from the broad-based consultation which a chapter can provide. 3. The frequency with which the group meets is more significant than whether or not it is defined as legislative. If the group meets frequently (e.g., as often as bi-monthly, or even quarterly), there is a tendency on the part of the ad-ministrative group to submit a comparatively larger number of items to its consideration and to defer action even on relatively noncontroversial issues un-til after consultation with the chapter or assembly. Thus there is the possibility of paralyzing the activity and initiative of the administrative group, or at least of weakening their effectiveness as a leadership group. Major superiors may hesitate to make any personal creative approach to a problem or issue without submitting it to a chapter 'referendum.' In some cases this is by design: the administrative group is conceived of as the executive arm of the chapter which, in a sense, retains ordinary authority in the community. If this is patterned on the federal government's model of separation of powers, it fails to take account of the fact that the executive and legislative arms of the federal government are (ideally!) separate but equal and, furthermore, are counterbalanced by the judicial arm. If it is patterned on the model of the relationship between a board of trustees and administrators Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / :373 who are responsible to the board, then it should be noted that trustees or-dinarily entrust a large amount of ordinary authority to their administrators. If the administrators abuse that trust, they are replaced by the trustees, but the latter are not involved in the administration per se of the institution. One ques-tion which a community which adopts this "strong chapter/weak ad-ministrator" model must ask itself is to what extent the chapter members are willing to prepare themselves to consider and to involve themselves in a succes-sion of varied problems and issues. Too frequent meetings also may have the unfortunate effect of discourag-ing otherwise qualified community members from serving as delegates. Once this occurs the moral authority of the chapter is subtly undermined because the community senses that somehow serving as a delegate is not a priority respon-sibility and that the composition of the delegate body does not reflect the 'first choice' of the members of the community. 4. Chapter authority is weakened by confusion over its function. Formerly the understanding of what chapter delegates were to do was quite clear and recognized throughout the community. Ordinarily general chapter meetings coincided with the election of the major superior and other officials, and this task was the primary responsibility of the delegates: In addition to this elective function, the delegates knew they had legislative authority. However, in the pre-Vatican Ii era little change was expected or seemingly desired. Therefore the responsibility for this legislative function did not weigh too heavily on the delegates. Beginning with the special general chapters, however, the whole situation changed, and the legislative aspect assumed great prominence. Chapters vir-tually legislated anew on every aspect of religious life, even to the extent of abrogating their former constitutions almost in toto. Since that time com-munities have been using interim constitutions and chapter decrees in place of their former constitutions. The changes reflected in these documents, of course, could not be effected by simply promulgating them: on-going develop-ment had to take place in order to assist community members, delegates and non-delegates alike, to test out the new vis{on in terms of concrete experience and to internalize that vision in their personal value structures. Quite naturally, chapter delegates thus saw that their responsibility did not end when a chapter session adjourned. They had to communicate the chapter vision to everyone and become agents of on-going renewal. Subsequent chapter sessions then became occasions of further corporate reflection on the values embodied in earlier chapter decrees and led to appropriate modifications, refinements, a shared search for ways to implement ideals, and so forth. Thus the legislative function of chapters shaded into a new one, the renewal function. While this evolution of chapter responsibility is understandable and, from some standpoints, desirable, from another viewpoint an unfortunate blurring of distinctions may occur. That is, all of the pronouncements of the same legislative body tend to carry the same weight. As a result, chapter enactments 374 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 may appear to regress to the minutiae of an earlier era, and hence invite dis-regard, or they may all appear to be merely exhortatory without the benefit of stress or emphasis. If the authority of the chapter becomes weakened in the general estimate by too frequent pronouncements, there will be no authoritative voice left in a community to make a really solemn or effective point when it is called for. Perhaps this is an argument for less frequent chapter meetings, preceded by extensive reflection and development of issues within the community. The renewal function, then, would remain primarily the responsibility of the ad-ministrative group and such other community members and committees as they invite to share their responsibility, while the deliberative and legislative function--the ultimate direction setting--would remain the primary emphasis of the chapter itself. Administrative Groups The day-to-day administration of religious communities as well as or-dinary authority between chapter sessions is entrusted to a major superior and councilors and staff persons who collaborate with them. Just as with represen-tative bodies, there have been a variety of new approaches to maximizing the effective service of~.administrative groups. 1. "Teamwork" is seen as an ideal for administrative groups. Scarcely a group could be found today which would not lay claim to functioning as a "'team," but the connotations of this term are sometimes elusive. The use of it probably reflects an effort to escape from a hierarchical arrangement within the administrative group in which distinctions of rank and authority were strictly maintained, or from a rigid system of role descriptions within the council which tended to discourage creativity and initiative among the members and to stifle leadership in all but the major superior. To state what a team is not, however, is not the same as filling the concept with positive mean-ing. The chief characteristic of a team relationship is probably the high degree of communication and interaction among its members. Team organization is not incompatible with differentiation of tasks and authority among the members--after all, there is only one captain of a football team, and everyone plays a different position on it. (There are even offensive players as well as defensive ones, althgugh one would not like to push the analogy this far!) A team does imply a common goal for the members' efforts, however, and a genuinely concerted effort to reach it. There can be a distribution of authority on a team, and there certainly should be a flexibility in approach, a willingness to capitalize on one another's strengths and to compensate for one another's weaknesses, and a relative freedom to revise the "game plan" or to strategize as play progresses. A few communities have organized their administrative groups in such a way that two or more persons have co-equal responsibility. For example, there Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 37~i may be three co-provincials who have different spheres of responsibility (such as religious formation, apostolic placement, finances, etc.), but seemingly equal accountability for the affairs of the total province. At least one com-munity reported that they found this to be an ineffective and inefficient arrangement because~f the lack of dynamism and leadership which resulted. Another effect of dividing the decisions to be made into approximately equal shares might be that the "co-provincials" tend to make decisions in isolation from one another without reference to the fact that these decisions ought to flow from an integrated vision of what the community is and is about. On the other hand, if "co-provincials" are all equally involved in every decision, the community's expectation will be that all will be equally knowledgeable about every area of responsibility--which would be a wasteful use of time and effort in some cases. These difficulties highlight the importance of studying the decision-making functions of the administrative group in order to provide, insofar as it can be anticipated, for participation which is proportionate to the centrality and im- 'portance of the issue. Formerly, constitutions took care of this by enumerating those matters which required a deliberative vote of the council and those for which only a consultative vote was required. The fact that administrative teams function in a more collegial and less formal style today should not obscure the insight that different matters require varying amounts of delibera-tion and ~consultation. 2. Administrative responsibility is increasingly shared with staff persons. This phenomenon results from the newly-emphasized distinction between charismatic and administrative leadership, as well as from an increasingly specialized and professional approach to traditional areas of administrative responsibility, such as finances, communications and record-keeping, per-sonnel services, and the management of apostolic institutions. Major superiors and their councils are seen primarily as 'in-spirators' and 'enablers' of religious community life--a role which is distinguished from the more management-oriented phase of their responsibility. It is further recognized that such tasks as financial management and personnel services require specialized preparation which is not always had by those whom the community wishes to elect to office. Also, these specialized tasks are often done better when a continuity of responsibility is maintained, and the tenure of such per-sons as the treasurer is not tied into an elected term of office. While in principle such distinctions can be made, there are also certain dif-ficulties which have been evidenced. First of all, the distinction between "charismatic" and "administrative" leadership cannot be exclusively main-tained: a religious leader who did not have a firm and sympathetic under-standing of the realities of the community's existence in every facet of its life would not be able to give credible inspiration to anyone. The leader's respon-sibility is to-cultivate an integrated vision of every aspect of community life in order to be able to challenge the members to further generosity in their 376 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 religious and apostolic life. Therefore the superior and council must collaborate closely with any staff persons in order to keep abreast of what they are learning about the community and also to help determine the priorities of the staff and to set the overall direction of their work. Another difficulty is apparent when the staff has insufficient authority to be effective. Community members must respect the expertise, community dedication, and delegated authority of the staff in order for their collaboration with the administrative group to really benefit all concerned. There are infor-mal as well as formal ways for the administrative group to i'einforce the staff's authority and responsibility in the community's eyes. For example, if a staff person has been designated to respond to a certain type of regularly-recurring request, the councilor should usually refuse to deal with such a request unless it can be shown that the staff person failed to give satisfactory service. Community members themselves sometimes create problems by requiring leaders to hold in confidence information which effects a staff member's role performance. Then the councilor is forced to intervene in the staff person's area of responsibility and to give a seemingly arbitrary direction, thus cir-cumventing the whole process. Councilors must be wary of allowing such situations to occur very often if they wish to have the assistance of a credible and effective staff. The relationship between the administrative group and the staff brings into focus the question of how large each group should be. This is probably a more relevant question than one which is more frequently'heard, "How many full-time persons are r(quired for community leadership?" In a day of declining membership and ever-pressing apostolic demands, releasing talented members for full-time community leadership often seems like a luxury which a com-munity cannot afford. But if more attention is given to a proper balance of elected leaders (full or part-time) and a supportive staff (full or part-time, lay or religious), new possibilities for maximizing leadership potential can be en-visioned. Obviously this answer varies from community to community, depend-ing on such factors as size, geographic expanse, diversity of apostolates, and the willingness and/or ability of council members to perform staff functions. Choice of Leadership No attempt will be made here to discuss varying and even inconsistent ex-pectations of leadership, although how to deal with that reality is a challenging question that applies both to representative bodies and to administrative groups. As noted above, community members expect chapter delegates~to be e.lectors, legislators, and (sometimes) renewal facilitators. They also expect major superiors and their councilors to furnish both charismatic and managerial leadership, in varying proportions. These areas of ambiguity do furnish a backdrop, however, for some remarks about the ways in which leaders have been chosen in recent years, a period in which there has been ceaseless experimentation with differing methods. In fact, most chapters spend Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 377 more time determining the method by which they will choose their leaders than they do in carrying out the proce.ss itself. In general, four methods can be identified: choice by discernment, election by the chapter, election by the total community, and a nominated-appointed method. 1. Discernment. This method is difficult to define because its interpretation and application vary in different situations. In brief, though, it is a method whereby the electors reach a prayerful consensus about their choice of leadership. It is an application of the spirituality of discernment--the prayer-ful and communal effort to discover and respond to God's will for a group--to the specific matter of selection of leadership. Its proponents usually contrast it to an election which is considered to be mechanical or political or insufficiently attuned to God's will for the community. Since the effectiveness of the method is dependent on khe development of faith community within the group, its usefulness is qualified if the electors represent a very large or wide-spread community, and do not ordinarily see one another except on the occasion of a chapter meeting. In some cases the discernment process has involved not the chapter delegates, but the nominees themselves. In other words, after a process of nomination (in which the entire community has both active and passive voice), those nominees who decide, after personal discernment, that they would be open to being called to community leadership enter into a process of com-munal discernment. Great objection can be raised to this practice, however, since it arbitrarily restricts active voice in the election to only the nominees. Religious constitutions have traditionally specified very exactly who enjoys the right to elect the major superiors, namely, the chapter delegates. To create a situation in which there are no electors except the nominees themselves--some of whom may have received only a single nominating vote while others may have received hundreds--runs contrary to this whole tradition. There must be many qualified electors in a community who are not themselves potential can-didates for the office of major superior. 2. Election by the Chapter. This is the traditional method for selection of leadership, but the manner in which this process is carried out within the chapter admits of many variations. For example, communities have ex-perimented with nominating procedures which involve the entire community and/or with search committees who are charged with developing a list of nominees. Within the chapter itself great efforts are made to allow candidates to discuss their views and their vision of the future direction of the community in an open forum before the election takes place. The election of major superiors, since it is one of the gravest respon-sibilities of a chapter, should be carried out in a prayerful context (as should "all of the deliberations of a chapter). The chapter body should strive together to search out the best-qualified persons to call to leadership in the light of the religious and apostolic goals of the community. Prayers for divine guidance, for freedom from prejudice and error, and for generosity in responding to God's will should all surround the election. If this is the case, then the sup- 371~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 posed contrast between the discernment method and the election method seems to fade in significance. Furthermore, election by the chapter seems to be the only one which readily safeguards the traditional requirements of a valid election, namely, that the votes be free, secret, certain, absolute, and determinate.3 Even a total community election (to be dealt with below) risks compromising these con-ditions. Some would argue that these requirements should no longer apply and that, for example, the community would be better served if ballots were not secret. While at first glance this may seem to represent a growth in the level of mutual trust and evidence a breakthrough in communications within a com-munity, further reflection might lead to an enhanced appreciation of those traditional safeguards which the Church has provided in canon law. Any com-munity which forswears the use of "free, secret, certain, absolute, and deter-minate" ballots should understand full well what it is sacrificing and be con-vinced that a proportionate good will be achieved. 3. Election by the Total Com~munity. It is doubtful whether this method cduid be successfully applied in any but a very small community where all of the members can be present at an election or where the ballots can be collected within a short period of time. Those who advocate a direct popular election probably reflect a lack of confidence in their chapter, a serious problem which should be dealt with in itself since it affects more than the elections. If the chapter is truly representative, however, and the community has confidence in its responsible leadership, then the desire for a community-wide election would seem negligible. 4. Nomination-Appointment. In this method a higher administrative group appoints major superiors from a list of nominees prepared by the constituency. For example, a province (or provincial chapter) may submit a list of nominees to the administrator general and council who then appoint the provincial superiors. Or the provincial administrative group may appoint regional superiors from among nominees presented to them. The alleged advantage of this method is that the higher superior is able to look over the list of nominees and appoint an administrative team with complementary talents, a result which isn't always obtained in a direct election by the appropriate chapter. This method also reflects the authority and responsibility of the higher ad-ministrative group with respect to the smaller units of the community. The method is compromised, however, if the higher superior feels insuf-ficiently informed about the qualifications of the nominees, or is unable to en-dorse any of them with enthusiasm, or does not feel genuinely free to choose from among them. This last condition might apply, for example, if the list of nominees and the total number of votes each received is published to the com-munity at large. Then there is a subtle expectation that the major superior will 3Canon 169. For a discussion of these requirements, see Canon Law for Religious Women by Louis G. Fanfani, O.P., and Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P. (Dubuque, Iowa: The Priory Press, 1961), pp. 91-93. Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 379 automatically appoint the nominee ~with the highest number of votes, and the appointment becomes only the ratification of a fair accompli. Concluding Remarks Many other aspects of religious government today could be singled out for observation and study. Some of these which come to mind are the utilization of different kinds of balloting in elections (e.g., preferential ballots and weighted ballots), the respective advantages of staggered terms of office and concurrent terms, the participation of ancillary groups such as committees and commissions in the governing process, and the ways in which different units of government discharge their responsibilities (e.g., how they develop their agen-das and how they formulate and communicate policies). Moreover, in addition to the simple observation of phenomena and trends there is a need to evaluate them in the light of assumptions and principles which are acknowledged by the religious community. These espoused beliefs are of many kinds: political, sociological, philosophical, and theological, to name four important areas. This is not the place to develop a list of represen-tative assumptions and, indeed, the renewal process in communities may not have progressed far enough yet for them to be able to articulate these cor-porately. However, any in depth critique of government should deal with questions such as the nature of human persons, the role of law and structure in human life and associations, how government structures can reflect the emphasis of Vatican II on collegiality, subsidiarity,, and shared decision-making, and on the Gospel challenge to be poor, chaste, and obedient in a world which values none of these. Religious government is the point at which a religious community comes together to organize for its collective mission. Those who occupy leadership positions perform a temporary service for the others in order to facilitate that mission. Many relationships should be facilitated by a government structure: relationships of communication, of consultation, of decision-making; relationships between and among community members, community leadership, lay collaborators, Church, and world. The ideal plan of religious government is simple, clear, adapted to contemporary needs, and flexible. The government should be the point of integration of all the concerns of a com-munity, internal and external, and it exists in order to enable the community to better respond to those concerns. There is abundant evidence today that religious communities have in fact grasped the importance of adapting their government structures to these insights and that many of the changes made, and the inevitable trials-and-errors, have brought them closer to that goal. A Note on Religious Poverty J. Robert Hilbert, S.J. Father J. Robert Hilbert is presently assigned to St. Francis Mission; St. Francis, SD 57572 Introduction In many discussions of religious life, it has struck me that, of the three vows, poverty is the most difficult to come to grips with. One is tempted often enough to suspect that the fundamental problem is an unwillingness to take the direct approach of simply being poor. On the other hand, that might be a simplistic move prompted by the desire to escape the discomfort of the in-evitable tension involved in being in the world, but not of the world. There is a fundamental dilemma: poverty is either a good or it is an evil. If it is a good, if it is true that "Happy are you poor," that it really is harder for a rich man than for a poor one to enter the kingdom, then it makes sense for one to himself choose poverty and to counsel others to choose it, but it does not make sense to dedicate one's energies to the elimination of poverty. On the other hand, if poverty is evil, if it hinders man's ability to know, love and serve God, if it is destructive of the human spirit, then certainly it makes sense to work to overcome poverty, but it does not make sense to choose poverty, es-pecially to make it the object of a vow by which one expresses devotion to God. One can say that the Christian concern is not with poverty and wealth as economic or sociological realities, but is rather with poverty of spirit, a spirit which acknowledges man's basic helplessness and dependence on God, which sees man's good as a spiritual good in reference to which material possessions are either indifferent or are subservient as a means. A man who is materially wealthy may have this poverty of spirit in terms of real humility and detach-ment from his possessions, and a man materially poor may have the opposite of this spirit in terms of pride and greed. Yet one does have somehow to deal with the fact that the Gospels present Christ as saying that it is morally im-possible for a rich man to enter the kingdom, that the beatitudes, at least in 380 A Note on Religious Poverty Luke, seem to be talking about the poor and the rich in a sense that includes the material. in considering the sense of Christ's--and the Church's--call to preach the Good News to the poor, one might say of it that it is an assertion to those who are generally looked down on or who experience pain and need and helplessness that they are important to God and are loved by Him. Not that those who experience comfort, and social and mental and physical well-being are not loved, but that they are more apt to know it and so have less need of assurance than do the sufferers. Poverty in this context, one might then say, is not an economic term, but just a generi~ term for those who are needy in any way. Surely Dives is as poor and needy in a spiritual sense as Lazarus? So it is to him perhaps even more than to Lazarus that we are sent to bring the Good News. One hears arguments, too, on the point that Christ did not urge structural social change, much less work for it. Though he responded to physical needs of people on occasion, as when he fed the multitudes or healed the sick, he did not attempt the elimination of poverty or the overthrow of Roman domination any more than he attempted the elimination ~f disease or of earthquakes. Ob-viously he commanded love of neighbor and a practical expression of that love in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, etc., but he did not preach economic or political structural reform. What manner of reflection, then, led the bishops in their 1971 Synod to say that "action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation?''1 (Is there a possibility that our Lord received his death sentence because his teaching and activity constituted a threat to the established social order?) This note is not an attempt to offer solutions to the difficulties and am-biguities of religious poverty, nor is it intended to touch all the elements in-volved. It is simply aimed at emphasizing a few points that seem to me to be often missed or slighted. Before taking up those, however, it might be worth recalling a few presuppositions on which these reflections are based. The Church's Poverty and Religious Poverty One is that a religious community is a community within the Church. Its way of life, its values and ideals are those of the Church. It gives particular ex-pression to certain values in a way different from the way in which other groups in the Church do, but these values are those of the whole Christian peo-ple. Religious life is to give evidence of, to point to, to make sharply visible certain aspects of what it is to be a Christian. There must, then, be continuity in the sense of poverty of religious life and the sense in which the Church speaks of its poverty. This sense, of course, comes to the Church through the ~Synod of Bishops, Justice in the World (U.S.C.C., Washington, D.C., 1972.) p. 34. 382 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 example and teaching of Christ. "Just as Christ carried out the work of redemption in poverty and under oppression, so the Church is called to follow the same path in communicating to men the fruits of salvation. Christ Jesus, 'though He was by nature God . . . emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave' (Phil 2:6), and 'being rich, he became poor' (2 Cor 8:9) for our sakes. Thus, although the Church needs human resources to carry out her mission, she is not set up to seek earthly glory, but to proclaim humility and self-sacrifice, even by her own example.''~ The Tradition of Religious Poverty Another assumption is that a religious community is both an inheritor of tradition and an interpreter of that tradition in terms of the present day. There is a long history of the practice of poverty in religious life. In the course of generations, we have developed a complex of values in the matter of poverty, including the following: detachment from material wealth; sparingness and simplicity in use of material things; possession of things in common; a life of labor; dependence on providence; hospitality; service of the poor. To some extent there is an'absoluteness in these values, aspects of them which are true in general for all men and all times. Even were there a time when the world had no drastic contrast between the rich and powerful and the poor and helpless, men would need reminders that the good life is not found in having things. "You have made all these things, made them very good indeed, yet You are my good, not they," It will always be true, as non-Christian cultures, too, realize, that man comes before God in nakedness and emp-tiness- not with reliance on possessions, nor on education, skills, achievements, nor even with security in good works as giving him in any way a claim on God; he comes to God with awareness of his own nothingness, and of God's infinite and personal love. Response to Particular Periods or Societies Beyond such timeless elements, howe, ver, values involved in religious poverty and modes of expression of that poverty are related to the contem-porary social situation of any given period. Modes of expression of religious poverty differ among various orders and in various times and places in part because religious poverty is an affirmation of values endangered by a particular period or society. !t is a prophetic witness directed to the needs of the time and place. Benedict, Francis and Ignatius had initially very different modes of poverty in their orders, not because they had different views of the fundamental and timeless values expressed in poverty, but because they were responding to the needs of the Church in different histo.rical periods. In considering renewal of religious poverty for our times and situation, ~Vatican 1 I, Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,//8. (Documents of Vatican 11. America Press, 1966, p. 23.) A Note on Religious Poverty / 383 then, it is not enough to accept the externals of the expression of poverty ac-cording to the traditions of a religious order; one must consider the values and attitudes involved, both the religious values affirmed and the worldly values opposed. Let us put this another way. Christ'.s life of poverty, it has been said, was "characterized by a redemptive use of things.''3 This is not simply an accept-ance of an ideal order of creation; it is also a recognition that there is sin-fulness embodied in the present concrete order, a non-redemptive use of things, which must be counteracted. The non-redemptive use, the sinful use, of God's creation is evil not only because it is an undue or distorted valuing of things (St. Paul speaks of "greed, which is idolatry"), but because it leads men to degrade, exploit and treat unjustly their fellow men. Poverty Is Apostolic Another presupposition is that the poverty of a religious order is not an end in itself. It is ordained to man's redemption, to the development of the Kingdom of God. Hence, there will be variation in the poverty of different g~roups according to the nature of their apostolate. Yet this subordination must not obscure the fact that poverty is really meant and is deliberately chosen. Religious poverty is not a mode of life that is in total equilibrium; it is not a way of life characterized by use of God's creation in what might be the way one would hold up as the ideal for all men in the ultimately just world order. Religious poverty is a deliberate move to the side of the poor and oppressed, an affirmation of intended identification with them. It is this because in Christ God has identified himself with them. Furthermore, religious poverty is a mode of apostolate. A religious may recognize that there are many ways of working for the attainment of man's red, emption. In the spirit of the Kingdom and Two Standards of the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius, however, he chooses to work from a position of poverty and humiliations. This is not a completely rational approach to the improve-ment of the human situation. There is a mystery in God's mode of salvation in Christ--through poverty, humiliation, injustice, eventually an unjust death on the cross. Unless there is an acceptance in faith of that mystery as still operative, there can be no full acceptance of religious poverty. l have stated four points that seem to me to enter in to reflection on religious poverty: that religious poverty is to give clear evidence to the Church's sense of poverty; that it involves a sense of the tradition of poverty throughout history; that there must be a re-statement of the spirit and tradi-tion of religious poverty in light of the sociological and cultural situation of the present day; that religious poverty is apostolic, "as Christ carried out the work of redemption in poverty and under .oppression." As I consider these points and my experience of religious life, it seems to aJohn R. Sheets, S.J., Toward a Theology of the Religious Life. (Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, II1,8; Nov., 1971, p. 173.) 384. / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 me that three areas which demand much and serious reflection in efforts at renewal are: that religious poverty must be in fundamental, radical opposition to the spirit of our affluent society, and must, then, require fundamental, radical personal conversion on the part of a religious; that contemporary con-sciousness of social injustice is integral and essential to the meaning of religious poverty and its expression in our day; that being concerned for the poor and being poor are not quite the same thing. Religious Poverty in an Affluent Society In referring to our affluent culture, what I am trying to suggest is that simply having things, being relatively wealthy in comparison to the major por-tion of the world's population is not an accidental adjunct to what we are as a people. Our material affluence is rooted in and has sprung from some of the most basic attitudes and values of our culture. In turn, our affluence reinforces and influences the development of these attitudes and values. Surrendering the right to personal ownership, professing a dependence on a superior or a com-munity for material things, even choosing a standard of economic life which eliminates certain superfluities and luxuries, does not signify or produce a very deep-rooted or wide-ranging change in the attitudes and values we have ab-sorbed since birth. It seems to me that this is the fundamental reason why it is so hard for us to come to any clear and satisfactory consensus about the meaning of religious--or Christian--poverty. So long as we consider the matter on the basis of the attitudes and values which are our cultural inheritance, there is no way we can conclude that real poverty is something which can be chosen and prized, for that culture is in diametric opposition to a spirit of poverty. In a brief article such as this, there is not scope for a full discussion of the American value system. What we are as a people, though, can be learned by reflection on our history. It was not an aberration of a few twisted individtials that brought about the centuries of enslavement of millions of Africans and In-dians. The greed, violence, lust for power, unquestioning assumption of superiority that underlay the centuries of European exploration, conquest, dominance and exploitation were not just occasional faults of isolated in-dividuals. They were part of the fundamental value system of an entire culture. Though we now repudiate some of the cruder manifestations, the same values and spirit are still endemic in Western culture, and have been incar~ nated in the social structures that our culture has established. It is not acci-dent, but basic cultural drive that has developed in this, the wealthiest country in the world, an economic and political structure which "virtually guarantees poverty for millions of Americans.''4 The greed, selfishness and exploitation of the colonial period have borne fruit, through the period of the industrial revolution and the growth of the multi-national corporations, in a world 4Poverty Amid Plenty, the report of the President's commission on income maintenance programs, 1969, p. 23. A Note on Religious Poverty / 385 economy which has created an enormous and ever increasing division between rich and poor, which threatens the human race because of the destruction of the earth's environment and resources. So the world is not one. Its peoples are more divided now, and also more conscious of their divisions, than they have ever been. They are divided between those who are satiated and those who are hungry. They a~e divided between those with power and those without power. They are divided between those who dominate and those who are dominated; between those who exploit and those who are exploited. And it is the minority which is well fed, and the minority which has secured control over the world's wealth and over their fellow men. Further, in general that minority is distinguished by the colour of their skins and by their race. And the nations in which most of that minority of the world's people live have a further distinguishing characteristic--their adoption of the Christian religion.5 What is significant is not only the fact of such division, but also our general ability to ignore that fact. How is it, after 80 years of modern social teaching and two thousand years of the Gospel of love, that the Church has to admit her inability to make more impact upon the con-science of her people?. It was stressed again and again that the faithful, particularly the more wealthy and comfortable among them, simply do not see structural social in-justice as a sin, simply feel no personal responsibility for it and simply feel no obligation to do anything about it. Sunday observance, the Church's rules on sex and marriage, tend to enter the Catholic consciousness profoundly as sin. To live like Dives with Lazarus at the gate is not even perceived as sinful.6 A concern for religious poverty which attends only to the externals of per-sonal or community economy is inadequate. If we continue to fit comfortably within the systematized greed, selfishness, cruelty, love of power of our society, we have no poverty of spirit. If we are ourselves to become Christian and to bring the Christian word to our society, we must attain an empathy with the poor and powerless in our own country and in the world. We have to feel the poverty of the migrants who harvest the food that is so plentiful on our tables. We have to know our society as it is experienced by an unemployed In-dian who sees his children growing up undernourished, falsely educated, and culturally destroyed in a country where his grandfathers lived in freedom and plenty. But once again, we have to become aware of and critical of our own ac-culturation. We must ourselves engage in that continuing education described by the bishops, an education which comes "through action, participation and vital contact with the reality of injustice." We must awaken in ourselves "a critical sense, which will lead us to reflect on the society in which we live and its values," and be "ready to renounce these values when they cease to promote justice for all men.''7 This examination will include not only our 5Julius Nyerere, Speech to the Maryknoll Sisters (Maryknoll Overseas Extension Service, Maryknoll, N.Y., p. 6). 6From an account of the debate at the 1971 Bishops' Synod, quoted in Henriot, "The Concept of Social Sin," Sourcebook on Poverty, Development and Justice, Campaign for Human Develop-ment (U.S.C.C., Wash., D.C., 1973, p. 67). 7Synod, op. cit., p. 46. 386 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 private lives, but the values incorporated in the institutions in which we work. It is necessary, for instance, to examine the basis of our judgment of produc-tivity and efficiency, our decisions about choice of means. Do we give due ac-count to the idea that we are called to follow the path of carrying out the work of redemption "in poverty and under oppression?" Abject poverty, we are told over and over again, is destructive of the human spirit, is an evil which must be eradicated, cannot be the object of a choice, certainly not of a vow, because it is an evil. True enough. But is it possible that our sense of how evil it is is to some extent a reflection of how good we think wealth is? Does our reflection on Christ's statement that it is a moral impossibility for a rich man to enter the kingdom suggest to us that perhaps wealth, too, is destructive of the human spirit, is an evil which must be eradicated? There are many ways in which the full acceptance and real valuing of religious poverty demand not simply a spirit of occasional.self-denial, but a very radical transformation of the basic values inculcated in us from birth within our society, values involved in our attitudes towards material creation, toward the meaning of human life, toward our country's position in world relationships. Addressing Social Injustice Earlier in this article 1 said that contemporary consciousness of social in-justice seems integral to our understanding of religious poverty. To some ex-tent l have introduced this idea in discussing the matter of a critical examina-tion of our values, but let me focus more directly on this point. Poverty has always been an essential of religious life--but its motivation and expression have been modified by the needs of the times. The sinful ab-surdity of the economic situation of our times is not in the fact that there are people who are poor, but in the division described by Nyerere, in the fact that the enormous and unprecedented technological, economic and political power of our times is ordered not to alleviating the plight of the poor majority of men, but to the perpetuation and increase of the imbalance of that division. The bishops recognize this situation as a claim on the Church's expression of poverty. Although in general it is difficult to draw a line between what is needed for right use and what is demanded by prophetic witness, we must certainly keep firmly to this principle: our faith demands of us a certain sparingness in use, and the Church is obliged to ad-minister its own goods in such a way that the (~ospel is proclaimed to the poor . In societies enjoying a higher level of consumer spending, it must be asked whether our life style exemplifies that sparingness with regard to consumption which we preach to others as necessary in order that so many millions of hungry people throughout the world be fed.8 8Ibid., p. 45. A Note on Religious Poverty / 387 What is that sparingness? In general, at least, "those who are already rich are bound to accept a less material ~way of life, with less waste, in order to avoid the destruction of the heritage which they are obliged by absolute justice to share with all other members of the human race.''9 Many cautions are given in discussions of religious poverty to the effect that it should not be confused with economic poverty, that religious poverty in its expression is relative to the milieu in which the community lives and works, that religious poverty is distinct from the claims of justice. Such distinctions, however, can be overdrawn to the extent that religious poverty is moved to an abstraction that has little in common with the poverty of Christ. His Kenosis was accomplished in concrete terms of real identification with the poor and ac-tual confrontation with the powerful of his times. When he said, "Happy are you who are poor," and "Alas for you who are rich," one has the impression that he was not abstracting from the economic situation. More fundamentally, Fr. Arrupe's statement deserves serious con-sideration: But God is not only the God of the poor. He is, in a real sense, God who is poor. For the mystery of the Incarnation has established a special relationship between God and pover-ty whose meaning goes much deeper than mere compassion . God is allpowerful. God has riches beyond our ability to estimate. But he is also a God of justice, who demands that justice be done. l f, then, God, allpowerful and infinitely rich, identifies Himself with the poor, it must be because the cause of the poor is somehow identified with the cause of justice?° Sparingness, for example, is fundamental to religious poverty in part as an example to all men that possessions and use of luxuries are not all that essen-tial to the quality of human life--may, in fact, hinder a man in his real development. Today there is clearly added to this motivation in the Church's consciousness the demand of some sparingness in order that justice be served. It is clear, too, that this demand goes beyond the matter of purely personal or domestic religious life to take in as well the means used in our apostolic works. If there is a demand that our society's use of energy, for example, be reduced, that reduction is called for in all aspects of our life and work. It seems to me, in short, that a level of example and witness in this regard is integral to a realistic understanding of the contemporary value of religious poverty--a poverty that is true to the Church's sense of her call to poverty, a poverty characterized by a redemptive use of things, a use redemptive of the actual sinful use of things in our day. Identification with the Sociologically Poor The Church, following the example of Christ, recognizes a particular call to showing concern for the poor and the oppressed. This call is felt with special 91bid., p. 51. 1°Pedro Arrupe, S.J., Witnessing to Justice (Pontifical Commission, Justice and Peace, Vatican, 1972), p. 38. 3~11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 emphasis by religious, as the history of their efforts on behalf of the poor attests. The kind of assistance that is called for will vary in different periods and with different orders. In our times, there is particularly the note of concern that the structures which perpetuate and increase the division between rich and poor be changed. Even within the wealthiest country in the world, change of structures is necessary for the alleviation of widespread poverty: The paradox of poverty in the midst of plenty causes many to ask why some people re-main poor when so many of their fellow Americans have successfully joined the ranks of the affluent . It is often argued that the I~oor are to blame for their own circumstances and should be expected to lift themselves from poverty. This commission has concluded that these assertions are incorrect. Our economic and social structures virtually guarantee poverty for millions of Americans.1~ The call to concern for the poor and for working for structural changes that will ensure justice for the poor is a call to all Christians. For us who profess religious poverty, it is not only a call to have such concern and to work for such change, but to share Christ's identification with the poor. Discer.n-ment is necessary, harmfully simplistic approaches should be avoided--yet our life and mode of work should be such that our being accounted among the poor is clear. Whatever may be said of the relative norm of poverty with reference to the milieu in which a community lives and works, it should be clear that they are poor in that relative way. If it is a question for all Christians "whether belong-ing to the Church places people on a rich island within an ambient of pover-ty,''~ 2 it is preeminently a question for religious. We should share what we have, and it seems good, sometimes, that we do have in order to share. But we should be present to the poor as willing to share what little we have, not as well-to-do philanthropists sharing their excess. There is a lesson for us, though we might not wish to carry it to that extreme, in the example of St. Francis's unwillingness even to accept alms to be dis-tributed to the poor. There is, moreover, the very practical fact that it is most unlikely that we will appreciate the meaning of being truly poor, or be able really to see our society and its structures from the standpoint of the poor, if we ourselves do not in some real way share their experience. It is evident enough in our rec-tories and convents and schools that most of us share pretty completely the values and attitudes and experience and even prejudices of the affluent, not of the poor. It seems pertinent at this point to introduce a quotation from St. Ignatius Loyola which perhaps returns to the statement of my opening paragraph: ~tPoverty Amid Plenty, loc. cir. 12Synod, op. cit., p. 45. A Note on Religious Poverty Let me just say this; whoever loves poverty should be glad to be poor; glad to go hungry, to be badly clothed, to lie on a hard bed. For if someone loves poverty but avoids penury, following poverty only from afar, is that not to be comfortably poor? Surely that is to love the reputation rather than the reality of poverty; to love poverty in word but not in deed.t3 As 1 conclude this article, my sense of futility returns. If some of the honestly poor people of my acquaintance--in the slums of Milwaukee, in Belize, on the Sioux reservation where I now live--were ever to run into the sort of discussion I have written here, 1 suspect they would not find it so much the word of Christ as the confusion of one who is far from Him. 1 think it might cause some amusement, if not amazement, that a man with so much education and so many years of meditation on the Gospel can make such a complicated business out of the relatively simple question of how he can be poor. But this is written by one who lives in material security, even affluence, for others who live similarly, and so must inevitably reflect the confusion of those bound in that mesh. May that which is impossible to men, that which our own mental gyrations and personal anguish can never bring about, be accomplished by Him who can save; may He relieve us of the burden and constriction of our wealth, pull us through the eye of the needle, and introduce us to the simplicity and freedom of His Kingdom. t3Monumenta Ignatiana, Epp. l, 577. Mortification Brother Thomas E. Ruhf, C.P. Bro. Thomas E. Ruhf is.presently engaged in studies for the priesthood at St. John's University, where he was awarded a Master's Degree in Theology last year. He is a member of the Passionist Monastery; 178th St. and Wexford Terrace; Jamaica, NY 11432. The word "mortification" is seldom if ever heard these days, and, when it is, it strikes a strange and sour note because of its seeming lack of harmony with contemporary man's view of himself and his world. In a society ruled by the lords of consumerism, progressivism and utopianism, the concept of mor-tification is most assuredly an outcast. Mortification is viewed as no less than a perversion of life, since life's goal is seen to be the pursuit of happiness and self-fulfillment, which is attained in extracting from life all its treasures of pleasure and burying as much as possible its pains and sorrows. The mul-tiplication of wonders in science and technology is heralding the dawn of a new age when there will be plenty of pleasures and possessions for all, when disease and pains will be laid to rest forever, and when even death may fall victim to the march of man. To speak of death, suffering or any human limitation is to talk of problems to be solved and not perennial conditions to be fa~ed. Such a society has no use for mortification precisely because it is a radical, concrete and complete affirmation of these realities, precisely because it af-firms them as enduring conditions to be faced and embraced for their creative potentials. The problem with mortification is a problem with suffering and death, with their proper place in a full and authentic human existence. In spite of society's claims of present and future scientific and technological conquests, death, suffering and human limitations remain ever so real. Daily the media parades before our eyes the ~pectr'e.of human suf-fering- innocent children with bellies pregnant with starvation, the disfigured and bloodied corpses of victims of senseless terrorism and calculated wars, the 390 . Mortification / 39'1 sad streams of people with lives and homes ruined by the fury of natural dis-asters. At the same time the tales of polluted water and air, of shortages of oil and energy, of inflation and recession are bursting the bubble of the great American myth of the cornucopia of unending resources and limitless produc-tion. Yet modern society continues its masquerade of denial. This denial of the hard and enduring facts of death, suffering and human limitation is not without its costs, for modern man has fallen victim to a certain sense of cultural schizophrenia. It seems that the greater the claims made for man's omniscence and omnipotence, for his control over nature and life in the face of his obvious lack of it, the greater becomes his sense of personal impotence, of being victimized and fated by the forces of nature and life. As society as a whole becomes more integrated, mechanized and systematized, he as an in-dividual becomes more isolated, alienated and categorized. Sodiety's attempt to do away with all external forms of suffering and pain only serves to intensify and foster his internal suffering and pain. A Contemporary Understanding of the Problem of Suffering and Death If any concept of mortification is to be valid today, it must seek its basis in the new heightened awareness of pain and suffering not only as external world realities but also as internal personal realities. It must find its roots in a con-temporary understanding of suffering and death. Perhaps the most meaningful concept of suffering and death for today's world is the existentialist view. In such a view man is seen primarily as a being-unto- death. His very suffering and limitation become movements in con-sciousness toward the final limit of death, which brings man face to face with the fundamental questionableness of his own being without offering him any answer to it. This ultimate questionableness of life is faced by each man alone. Death represents the ultimate loneliness. All suffering, in being mine alone to bear, is essentially an experience of loneliness foreshadowing the ultimate Ioneliriess of death. Thus suffering and death give a character of existential loneliness to all life, a realization that no other finite reality can solve the basic questionableness involved in the finitude of my existence, that no finite reality can satisfy my radical desire to transcend this ultimate limit. This spectre of existential loneliness casts a long shadow of fear and anx-iety over a man's life. He can deal with this spectre in a number of ways. One way, which is most characteristic of contemporary man, is to avoid the whole question as long as possible. There is a retreat from the limits of his loneliness and death and a search for a sense of security in an immersion into th6 daily activities of pleasure and production. Indeed in America death is a taboo. The subject must never be raised, not even with a dying person. Death is always an unfortunate accident that happens to someone else. Likewise acknowledgement of a deep sense of loneliness seems awkward and inappropriate in a society.dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure and hap- 399 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 piness. Loneliness, a basic reality of life, like death, is viewed as a sickness which alienates people from each other and society and hence is an unfor-tunate development in life that must be avoided and spurned. But in fact "it is not loneliness which separates persons from others, but the terror of loneliness and the constant effort to escape it.''t If a man cannot face and affirm his ex-perience of existential loneliness as a condition of existence, he will not only be alienated from others but even from his very self. As Dr. Elisabeth K~ibler- Ross has observed in her study of terminally ill persons, nothing frustrates and alienates them more than their families' and friends' refusal to talk of suffer-ing and death. As a result Dr. K~ibler-Ross makes a plea in her book, On Death and Dying, for more people to face up to the reality of death for the sake of helping the dying and for their own sake in living real and full lives.2 Modes of Acceptance of Suffering and Death Assuredly the acceptance of suffering and death is necessary for a truly authentic and full life. However there are significantly different modes of acceptance that man has and can choose as his way of responding to these realities. Karl Rahner suggests that there are basically three postures of ac-cepting death? First of all, some see death as the stark and complete termination of all that they have found pleasureable in life. Death is a door op~ning out into dark oblivion, into the ultimate futility of all life and as such is a cause for frustra-tion and despair. Suffering is a grim foreshadowing and reminder of this ul-timate emptiness. Others embrace death with the full consciousness of their being, realizing that they have no answer to the enigma of its meaning, but yet remaining open to an answer to this ultimate questionableness of life from a source outside of themselves and time. It is a response of stoic resignation to fatedness and all suffering, leaving open the possibility that death could be a door to ultimate fulfillment as well as to ultimate annihilation. The third response goes beyond resignation, radically affirming death and all "little deaths" in suffering as doors to a life of ultimate fulfillment, as the necessary frontiers to be crossed on the way to the radical transformation of man's ex-istential situation by a gift from God. This response of acceptance is permeated by a sense of faith and hope in seeing in the very finitude of life its radical nature as free gift from the One v~ho is Infinite. This last response is of course the Christian response. We acknowledge in faith the efficacy of Christ's death and resurrection for the transformation of our own death into eternal life in God. Dying to ourselves becomes the only way to the fullness of life. Existential loneliness in suffering and death is the ~Clark E. Moustakas, Loneliness (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall Inc., 1961), p. 103. 2Elisabeth Kiibler-Ross, M.D., On Death and Dying (New York, N.Y.: Macmillian Co., 1969). p. 13. 3Karl Rahner, S.I., "The Passion and Asceticism," Theological Investigations (Baltimore, Md.: Helicon Press, 1967), v. 3, p. 92. Mortification / 393 very vehicle to authentic life since it is our only entrance into a participation in the Paschal Mystery which is the answer to the questionableness of all life. We believe that as an existential, ontological result of Christ's saving action all life can now be said to exist in a state of mortification, in a state of having already died with Christ that it may now live with him in a sharing in his resurrection. In this sense every life by way of baptism in Christ enters into a state of "ab-solute mortification."' Present Difficulty with Mortification No Christian has problems with accepting mortification as a state of life entered into in baptism, though we perhaps never consciously refer to life in Christ as mortified existence. The problem comes in the choosing of specific acts of mortification above and beyond the suffering and death inherent in the exigencies of life itself. These self-chosen acts of mortification, which have been termed "relative mortification," have for some time played a role in the tradition of Christian asceticism and been a prominent feature of religious life. But today it is a common assumption that relative mortification has no. place in authentic Christian living. In fact it has been condemned as a distortion and perversion of Christianity, and any mention of the subject evokes looks and words of scorn and disbelief. How can it be that such a long tradition of relative mortification has so suddenly been pushed aside and left to die?.llS it simply true that there is no value in practising it at all? To answer this question we must first identify and face the reasons for this rejection. There seem to be two fundamental reasons for this. First it stems from a reaction against the excessive and exclusively corporal nature of past practices of mortification. Secondly the rejection arises out of an affirmation that there is enough mortification inherent in trying to live a good Christian life of love. Certainly whenever the word "mortification" is spoken in Christian circles it immediately calls to mind a grim picture of severe corporal austerities aimed at prevention of or reparation for sin. Such practices of "attacking" the body do violence to our contemporary awareness of the sacrality of all material ex-istence. We react strongly against the Platonic dualistic view of life implicit in these practices which views the soul as imprisoned in the body and yearning for release from its evil propensities. Furthermore instead of releasing a person from his self-centeredness, these practices often enough focused concern on the self by creating an obsessive preoccupation with avoiding pleasure and con-solation in a fight to win salvation. The Christian call to turn outward from the self to Christ and his ~people in a spirit of suffering love is overshadowed by the quest for personal perfection in the conquest of temptation. Hence such prac-tices appear to have little connection with a valid Christian life. 'William J. Rewak, S.J., "Mortification," Review for Religious, May 1965, p. 374. 394 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Inadequacy of Traditional Justifications for Mortification It certainly must be admitted that many past ascetical practices are quite justifiable on "worldly" terms alone apart from any connection with a Chris-tian view of life. Karl Rahner distinguishes three types of ascetical practices which developed independently of Christianity.5 The first type he terms moral asceticism, which uses corporal austerities as a means of self-discipline for the sake of attaining a balance of the various forces in man and thus enabling him to lead a life in harmony with the laws of his nature. Such asceticism seeks to conquer the "animality" in man so that his spirit may rule. This description would fit many of our past practices of mortification. Likewise "mystical asceticism," in using bodily self-denials as a preparation for an experience of religious enthusiasm and mystical insight, has nothing peculiarly Christian about it. The same can be said for "ritual asceticism" which also uses bodily austerities as a way to escape the profane sphere of life for the sake of contact with the transcendent. All these justifications for mortification deny the significance of Christ's Incarna;tion, deny the truth of the Word who is the flesh and blood revelation of God, who reveals the spiritual by means of th~ material. There is no prere-quisite of escape from material reality in order to find God. Contemporary Christianity has rejected past practices of mortification quite justifiably on the grounds that the reasons given for employing them had little to do with solid Christian belief. Indeed the decrees of dispensation of the Friday abstinence and of most of the Lenten fast and abstinence were viewed by many as a sort of"Emancipa-tion Proclamation" freeing Catholics from the slavery of past mortificational practices. In the ensuing exhiliration of freedom not only were the past prac-tices cast off but also the whole concept of relative mortification itself. In the name of freedom for a full human life, many could now repeat the words of James Carroll, "I have given up nothing but giving up for several Lents. I have denied myself self-denial.''6 In the same breath as was said "my work is my prayer," can be said "my life is my mortification." The Search for Enduring Values Yet with all this freedom from the past there seems to be a budding sense of frustration and emptiness. There is a growing awareness that in rejecting past practices we have neglected real values that were inherent in them though covered by distortions. A renewed emphasis on contemplation, solitude, and just plain "wasting time" is finding its way back into Christian literature. These concerns are arising not out of a sense of fear of the modern world and an attempt to hold onto the past but out of the faithfulness to one's own being and the call of need from others. There is a new movement beyond the 5Rahner, op. cit., pp. 60-66. 6James Carroll, "Mortification for Liberation," National Catholic Reporter. December 10, 197 I, p. 10. MortiJi'cation / 39~i smashing of past idolized practices to searching for the foundations of the en-during values and treasures of the Church. The present times demand that we be honest with ourselves. We must ad-mit that our work has not really become our prayer nor our living of life a full realization of the spirit of mortification. As Saint Paul so clearly stresses in the ninth chapter of his letter to the Corinthians, there is more to fighting the good fight and running the good race than the contests themselves. Any good athlete spends much time in preparation for the contest in rigorous discipline and training. Just because we find our exercises for the contest to be inade-quate it does not necessarily follow that all exercises are fruitless. What more appropriate time is there for re-examining and reassessing our own commit-ment to and training for the contests of life than now in this Holy Year of renewal and reconciliation with its special focus on personal, interior renewal? Necessity of Re-affirming the Value of Mortification From our discussion of the possible reactions to the experience of suffering and death, it is clear that total acceptance and creative affirmation of them in hope is not man's natural, spontaneous response. The mere acceptance of suf-fering and death as inevitable and a willingness to face it as it comes along is not enough in view of the Christian's radical call to affirm and give himself fully to these realities. If these "contests" are seen to hold out to every man the prize of the very meaning of all life, then they are not simply "contests" which we resign ourselves to entering, but "contests" to be trained and prepared for. A spontaneous response of faith and hope in the face of suffering and death springs from a person who has already radically affirmed these realities in the actions of his own life. The way a person affirms any values in his life is by means of the actions he freely chooses. It would seem that self-chosen acts of self-denial affect the depths of a person in a very special way that fate-imposed

Issue 33.1 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be .accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor January 1974 Volume 33 Number 1 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Review for Religious Volume 33, 1974 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor " Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~ 1974 by Review for Religious. Documents concerning Religious The following are seven recent documents concerning religious given here in chronologi-cal order and in the English translation provided by the weekly English edition of L' osservatore romano. LETTER TO THE GENERAL OF THE JESUITS To Our Beloved Son PETER ARRUPE Superior General of the Society of Jesus On the solemn occasion of Easter last year you intimated to Us that you were thinking of calling a general congregation of your Society in the year 1974, whose task it would be to explore the most apt ways for the Society to per-form its work in the Church and in the world of today. Importance of the Congregation Our Venerable Brother, the Cardinal Secretary of State, replying in Our behalf,~sent you Our best wishes. Now that you have publicly annoUnced the general congregation, and the provincial congregations are soon to be held for the election of delega.tes and for the preparation of postulata to be proposed to the general congregation, We Ourselves because of the love We bear the Society wish to address Ourselves through this letter to you and your companions to encourage you and to send you Our best wishes for a happy outcome of the congrega.tion. For we are well aware of the great im-portance of convoking it at this time, which could be an hour of decision, so to speak, for the Society of Jesus, for its future destiny and for its task in Church, as it is also for other religious families. 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 This meeting is a sign--and We are happy to say so--that the Society of Jesus is making a great effort, in accordance with the aims of its institute, to adapt its life and its apostolate to the needs of today's world, which is so constantly and rapidly changing. The Mind ot Vatican II Your desire, in fact, corresponds with the norms of the Second Vatican Council, the proper and careful implementation of which We Ourselves are strenuously trying to attain. Indeed, the congregation is in accord with the opinion of the Council fathers who said: "Effective renewal and proper adap-tation cannot be achieved except with the cooperation of all the members of the institute" (Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 4). However, if that universal Synod was looking for renewal fitting the needs of the present, it did not want this to be brought about through a hazardous experimentation that might be alien to the very character of the religious family, or lead to an abandonment of the primary values of a life consecrated to God. No, it was the mind of that Synod that the common elements of religious life should be confirmed and that they should be allowed to grow and develop. These are: a following and imitation of Christ, "as proposed in the Gospel" (ibid., 2); a renuncia-tion of worldly things so that the religious might live for God alone and for the building up of the Church; a practice of all the human and Christian vir-tues, best achieved by a joyful and constant observance of the vows (cf. ibid., 5), which should lead to the heights of the spiritual life where sublime contemplation is joined with magnanimous action. In Our apostolic exhorta-tion "Evangelica testificatio," which We published later, We explained all this in more detail and dealt with it more fully, using it as a paternal invita-tion to all religious that "they might shed light among men, so that, when they see the good you do, they might give praise to the Father in heaven" (cf. Mt 5:16). The Society of Jesus, especially called to walk in the path of the follow-ing of Christ, should feel itself particularly impelled to review its style of life, testing it constantly in the light of the Gospel, according to the exhortations contained in the words and example of St. Ignatius. Let this be undertaken with a view to actually effecting the renewal begun at the instance of the Council, taking into account new circumstances and needs. This should be done, however, in accordance with the spirit of the Society of Jesus, that is, in fidelity to its tradition which is based on .Christ, on the Church, on St. Ignatius. Hence, that the preparation for the coming General Congregation may not be limited to organizational matters, but give to all the members of the Society of Jesus a proper orientation and win their full commitment to it, they will have to rehearse with penetrating insight, a clear grasp of reality, and a profound sense of duty those principles of the spiritual and apostolic life which for centuries formed, as it were, the very structure that held the Documents concerning Religious / 5 Society together, and which made it a most serviceable instrument for a pastoral, missionary, and educational apostolate involving cultural forma-tion of" the highest excellence. Those responsible for this accomplishment were a large group of men distinguished for holiness of life and love of neighbor. Sources of Strength The foundations of religious formation which were laid in the past should today, even under changed conditions, still be the source of strength of the Society of Jesus. They are: a diligent dedication to prayer, which "has its origin in the authentic sources of Christian spirituality" (cf. Decr. Per- [ectae caritatis, 6); an austerity of life, preventing a person from easily adopting that frame of mind which, casting aside that which is sacred, pre-vails in so many forms of contemporary life and practice; supernatural strength by which apostolic effectiveness is increased, and in the absence of which no action, no matter how excellent on the surface, can yield lasting fruit for the transformation of the human conscience; complete observance of the vows, especially obedience, which is peculiar to the Society and a condi-tion of its religious discipline by which its vigor was always preserved. Hence, there must be no attempt to introduce new methods of deliberation and deci-. sion-making that not only undermine the very notion of obedience, but alter the nature itself of the Society of Jesus. Finally, the ascetical value of com-munity life and the advantages it offers for the formation of character should be kept in mind. To these weighty principles We would also add in a very special manner the fidelity to the Apostolic See, whether in the area of studies and education of young scholastics, who are the hope of your order, or of the students at-tending the great number of schools and universities entrusted to the Society, or in the production and publication of writings aimed at a wide circle of readers, or in the exercise of the direct apostolate. Dangers to Essential Structure of the Order Nor are We ignorant of the fact that over the past few years in several parts of the Society--and it is by no means absent either from the life of the Church in general--certain tendencies have arisen of an intellectual and dis-ciplinary nature which, if fostered and given support, could lead to serious and possibly irreparable changes in the essential structure itself of your So-ciety. As you know, Beloved Son, we have through Our closest collaborators called your attention more than once to these matters, while expressing the hope that the expected renewal will be brought about securely and smoothly. Therefore, on the occasion of the announcement of the gen-eral congregation We express once again Our desire, indeed Our demand, that the Society of Jesus should adapt its life and apostolate to today's con-ditions and needs in such a way that confirmation be given to its characteris- 6 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 tics as a religious, apostolic, priestly Order, linked to the Roman Pontiff by a special bond of love and service, as ratified in the "Formula of the Institute" or fundamental rule of this same Society, approved and repeatedly confirmed by Our predecessors. In the adaptation of which We .speak, experience will be your teacher. It will show what concrete forms of life and action have now become irrelevant and outdated, and what new needs and opportunities pre-sent themselves of work to be undertaken or directed according to the mind of Christ and the nature of the apostolate. We also hope that in the preparation for the general congregation, and later when it is in session, all the religious will be intent on the good of the Society, united in that charity required by your Founder, whose voice can still somehow be heard, in your Constitutions: "Union and agreement among all ought to be sought with great care, and the opposite ought not to be per-mitted; in order that, being united among themselves by the bond of fraternal charity, they may be able better and more efficaciously to apply themselves in the service of God and the aid of their fellowmen" (P.III, c.l, n.18). Final Thoughts~ and Suggestions These,, then, are Our wishes; that they may be heeded we pray to ,the Virgin Mother of God, Queen and Mother of the Society of Jesus; may she support it with counsel, strengthening goodwill, stirring up hearts, and in-spiring all the religious to ever more zealously imitate the Divine Savior in their task of constantly and courageously establishing His reign. What we have written should show you and your companions what is ex-pected of you by Us, who know well what influence the Society of Jesus has, what the task is that it has to fulfill, what confidence it enjoys; all this must be carefully considered, both with respect to the Society itself and with respect to the Church. We wish you to inform your collaborators and all the members of the Society of Jesus of this message, so that each one may see the witness of Our paternal benevolence and of the concern We have for the future destiny of the same Society. For We are convinced that the more faithfully the sons of St. ignatius conserve the Ignatian charism as it appears in the principle docu-ments of the institute, the more effectively will they pursue the glorious work of evangelizing today's world according to their God-given vocation, emulat-ing the example of so many Jesuits who consistently tried-~--and We use the words of St. Ignatius--"to distinguish themselves in the total service of their eternal King and universal Lord" (Spit. Ex., II week). Having made known in writing what is in Our heart, We gladly impart to you and to the whole Society of Jesus the Apostolic Blessing as an'augury of the divine assistance. ~ " From the Vatican, the fifteenth of September, 1973, the eleventh year of Our Pontificate. PAUL VI Documents concerning Religious "/ 7 LETTER ON ST. BRIDGET OF SWEDEN To Our Venerable Brother JOHN E. TAYLOR Bishop of Stockholm In this year marking the sixth centenary of her death, honor is rightly paid to St: Bridget, Flowei" of the North, and rightly are the faithful exhorted to direct their thoughts, with fresh° enthusiasm, so to speak, to the spiritual beauty of this heavenly one, as her memory is being solemnly recalled to mind. This chosen woman had a double fatherland: Sweden, where she was born at the beginning of the 14th century and Rome, where she spent nearly 20 years, and where after her return from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, she de-parted ripe for heaven, to the eternal Jerusalem, on the 23rd day of July, in the year 1373. ~ In that northern region to which the devout mind turns with heightened eagerness on this occasion, the ecclesiastical life was at that time in a fluorishing state, particularly because the Cistercian monks and after them the mendicant orders had introduced a piety that was well adapted to the people. For nurturing this piety, devout pilgrimages, to which Christians were much given, proved very effective. And' when the Scandinavians ad-venturously and with devotion and enthusiasm betook themselves to the holy places:in distant parts of the world, they, as it were,°exchanged spiritual riches with other brethren in Christ whom they met and also experienced in a vital way the unity.of the body of the Church. Wife and Mother Such were the times in which Bridget grew to womanhood. Although she desired to consecrate her virginity to God, she was thwarted in her desire of a Divine Spouse. In,submission to the will of her father, she married Ulf Gudmarsson, an excellent man. As wife and mother she was a shining ex-ample; she lived united to her husband by the bond of Christian love andsh~ reared her' eight 6hildren with discerning wisdom; that is to say, she wished them to grow up to be not only good citizens of their fatherland, but also servants and children of God. And so it came about that the seeds of religious vocation came?to flower among her offspring. Indeed, her second daughter, Catherine, with the aid ofdivine grace reached the heights of sancity. Nor may ewe neglect to mention the charity of St. Bridget lavished on the mem-bers of Christ suffering from poverty or other distress. Following a pious pilgrimage they had made together to the Shrine of St. James at Compostella, Bridget's husband entered a Cistercian monas-tery and soon after he died there. Whereupon Bridget, having set her domes-tic affairs in order, devoted herself entirely to the ascetical life and prepared for her own flights to God, by whom she wa~ richly favored with mystical 8 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 gifts. During the two years in which she lived in a retired place near the monastery where her husband Ulf had withdrawn from the world, she was inspired by Christ with the resolve to found a new Order to be named for our Divine Savior, in honor of Mary the Virgin Mother of God. There would be double monasteries housing in separate buildings men and women who had,freed themselves for divine pursuits, but they would constitute onecom-munity, as it were, gathered together in God's name. This order, whose rule Our Predecessor Urban V approved in 1370, began with the foundation called Vadstena. Spiritual Writings There is cause for rejoicing indeed in the fact that this religious family, which almost disappeared at the time when the seamless garment of the Church was pitiably rent, began to flourish again at the beginning of this present century, insofar as its branch of consecrated women is concerned; and a house was established at the Campo dei Fiori, where the mother foundress had formerly lived. That this institute may prosper with a happy increase in this anniversary celebration honoring St. Bridget is the object of our earnest desire. Deservedly extolled also are those works which are entitled "Revela-tions," and which set forth the mystical graces bestowed on St. Bridget. They are records valued besides for their wealth of sacred doctrine, treating of her cult of our Savior's humanity, of His sacred passion, of the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, and the angels. The spiritual writings and religious art of the 15th and 16th centuries reflect the strong impact of these works. Solicitude for the Church Broadening the range of her concern, however, St. Bridget, like another Catherine of Siena, extended her great and zealous solicitude to the Church and the Apostolic See in that troubled period. As a devoted daughter she sought the reformation of the Church, ihe Mother of all, which, as Vatican Council II says, "is summoned by Christ, as she goes her pilgrim way, to that continual reformation, of which she always has need, insofar as she is an institution of men here on earth" (Decree on Ecumenism, Unitat& redinte-gratio, 6). Like the "valiant woman" she was, Bridget entreated Clement VI, lingering in Avignon, to return to Rome and urged the proclamation of the jubilee year of 1350. This woman, then, who by her life and work united so admirably and beneficially in the one Church her illustrious native land of the North and the See of Peter, corroborates, so to speak, as a citizen of heaven, the gener-ous efforts of those who after a prolonged and lamentable severance are now striving to restore Christian unity. Indeed, Our predecessor Boniface IX ap-pears in some way to have foretold this when in an apostolic letter dated under his seal, 7 October 1391 he said that he declared Blessed Bridget of Documents concerning Religious / 9 happy memory to be a saint "for the unity of the faith and of the Ch'urch" (Bullarium Priv. ac Dipl. Pont., III, Rome, 1741, p. 391 ). Tolally Dedicated Again, we rightly commemorate this singular and exemplary woman be-cause, although she was totally dedicated to God, she was not estranged from her own people. More than this, animated by a Christian love of her native land, she labored for its true progress. Her own family gave 'to Sweden for almost a hundred years kings, among them St. Eric, who were intent upon the good of their people and social justice. And although occupied with household cares, St. Bridget often served as an instructress in royal duties at court and was like a watchful mother to King Eric the Great (or Erikson) and his wife. She gave them a Swedish translation of the Holy Bible, and for this and for her writings mentioned above, she obtained a place in the literary history of her country. May her light shine radiantly, therefore, a light recognized also by those who are not of the Catholic communion. May this extraordinary woman in-tercede with God that He may graciously bestow on the Church the gifts of peace and unity. These obtained, may the faithful of Christ in Sweden and the adjoining northern regions come to recognize that he who is placed over the Catholic Church and exercises the highest apostolic ministry testifies to a singular esteem and brotherly love for them. May the example of this devout pilgrimage ot~ olden days kindle the hearts of those who come to this City in the forthcoming Holy Year, so that sincere repentance and desire for the interior life may bring about a spiritual renewal that will benefit not only in-dividuals but the Church also and civil society. This then is Our message to you in observance of the sixth centenary of th~ death of St. Bridget. In conclusion, We affectionately impart to you and to the faithful under your care the Apostolic Blessing as a token of spiritual strength and joy. This Blessing we desire to extend also to the Abbess Gen-eral and the Sisters of St. Bridget, the Order of our Divine Savior. From the Vatican Palace, on the 19th day of September, in the year 1973, the eleventh of our Pontificate. PAUL VI ADDRESS TO BENEDICTINE ABBOTS The following address was given October 1, 1973, to 270 abbots and con-ventual priors of the Benedictine Confederation led by the Abbot Primate, Dom Rembert Weakland. Also present for the audience were three Orthodox monks and three Protestant monks. From the heart we greet you, representatives of the whole Order of St. Benedict, who, in St. Cyprian's words, have come "to the Chair of Peter and the primatial church, the source of priestly unity" (Ep. 12, 14; PL 3,844-5). You have desired also to pay a visit to us, the successor in the apostolic min- Review for Religious,. Volume 33, 1974/1 istry to that same blessed Peter, in the long intervening line of Pontiffs. We greet also the Priors here present ot~ monasteries located for the most partin Africa and in Latin America, in which areas, with laudable spontaneity you devote your energies to missionary work; that is to say, "you are diligently engaged in implanting there the very rich tradition of your Order" (see Conc. Vat. II, Decr. Ad gentes divinitus, 18). Experiencing God We welcome in addition, recognizing at the same time the high prestige they enjoy, the observers, who, though not full participants in the Catholic communion, are yet striving to follow in the footsteps of St. Benedict. Fi-nally, we receive paternally the abbesses of monasteries and th~ mothers general here present of congregations that adhere to the spirit of this Patri-arch and are called by his name. We know that you are now holding a meeting on a subject of no small consequence; namely, on the mode of experiencing God in monastic life. This topic has various facets, as it were, whether it is considered according to Biblical doctrine, to sacred liturgy, to history, to the conditions and exigen-cies of the present day. We regard this subject as serviceable indeed, if this troubled age of ours is really to return to the great and fundamental reflec-tions that concern human existence itself. For there is danger today that men may banish the sacred from their minds and from their condu& and even presume they can do without God, at least in the use they make'of thoii" lives. Sometimes even those who have given themselves to the divine service and are dedicated to the pastoral ministry can be infected with this secular view. You, however, as monks in appearance, dress, and way of life affirm or should affirm that you belong to the number of those who do not rely upon the vain and passing things of this world, but seek wholeheartedly Him who is the Absolute: whom alone we ca.ll God, God our Highest Good, God Eternal. Here there shines before the eyes of the mind the true concept of religion, whereby man becomes intimately aware that he is ordered to God, Creator, Ruler, Last End, and Author of Salvation, to whom he owes in-terior and exterior worship. Such religion, therefore, encompasses the entire man and obliges him to devote himself to God in wholehearted service. Hence, you who "have chosen the best part" (see Luke 10:42), inasmuch as "your main task is to render the Divine majesty a service at once sim-ple and noble within the monastic confines" (see Conc. Vat. II, Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 9), dembnstrate the excelling power of the interior life for opposing that secular propensity whereby men are induced to abandon their own true center, as it were, and surrender themselves to exterior things. Liturgy of the Hours It should be your concern, then, to be religious who are truly, called so, Documents concerning Religious under a unique title, since you strive to ascend to God, to whom you have been consecrated by the profession of the evangelical counsels, through liv-ing the contemplative life, which you nourish by daily effort. Merely in doing this you express your protest against the neglect of God and against the profane way of life which pervades the world in these times. From our brief exposition, the excellence of prayer to be directed to God is already manifest. Indeed, all the sons of the Church, as you well know, are to adore the Father "in spirit and in truth" (see John 4:23). But since in the world of today prayer is beset by so many snares and threatened by so many perils, to you, who enjoy a more fortunate position, is entrusted the special task of directing your study and efforts to the end that the Church may really appear as the Ecclesia Orans. We are cognizant of the zeal with which you have studied the liturgical aspect in this meeting. We rejoice greatly in your diligence and your ardent desire to make that venerable tradition of yours flourish among you and to preserve that which constitutes the essential part of your spiritual life and which in the course of the centuries has ever enhanced the life of the Church itself. We know also of your solicitude for the vital force, the profound sig-nificance and the benefits which have been derived from the renewal of the liturgy that you brought to pass. Joined to this solicitude of y_ours is appre-hension lest these same benefits be not rightly and duly recognized, the more so because differing inclinations of soul in the great family of- St. Benedict have become evident with regard to the order to be observed in the Liturgy of the Hours; that is, whether this order should be uniform in the various monasteries or particular to each one. Need to Study and Weigh This is a very important question, whether as pertaining to your con-sistent historical and spiritual tradition or to your monastic cohesion which is no longer supported by only one form of sacred liturgy, but is expressed through several different voices, so that in celebrating the praise of God you are no longer "speaking with one voice." Consequently, this question should be studied in such a way as to embrace all its aspects in accordance with the vows made by you, before appropriate norms with the force of precept are laid down. Nevertheless, we wish to state that the difficulties which have arisen should be so weighed, and due account taken of the benefits already ac-cruing, while with joint effort you strive to offer a testimony of fervent and ardent prayer to the world of today with its secular outlook. Assuring you therefore of our fatherly concern for the welfare of your monastic communities, we strongly affirm that we shall take under our eager and careful consideration the outcome and result of the work you have begun on this question, and already at this stage we acknowledge our Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 high esteem for the manner in which, with your wonted wisdom, you are addressing yourselves to this task. However, you are obliged to fulfill not only the duty of liturgical prayer, immensely important as this is, but also that of private prayer. On this sub-ject the Second Vatican Council has given a wise reminder (see Const. Sacrosanctum Concilium, 12), and St. Benedict himself is considered to treat of this point in his Rule, in the section headed. "De reverentia ora-tionis": "Supplication should be made to the Lord God of the universe with all humility and pure devotion" (cap. 20; see P. Delatte, Commentaire sur le R~gle de Saint Beno~t, Paris, p. 217). The exhortations of your founder are by no means inappropriate to this age, in which things progress and change with such rapidity. Just as in former times, so also now, you are to establish "a school of the Lord's ser-vice" (Reg. prol.); in other words, your monasteries should be so struc-tured that those who enter therein learn how to serve God and how to be continuously employed in His service. Such service, however, chiefly com-prises divine worship, by which the virtue of religion is exercised, as we have indicated above, and also holiness. With reference to worship we should like to bring out a special point: in celebrating the sacred liturgy with diligence and piety, as it behooves you to do, let. the sweet voice of the singing Church sound forth and never cease to sound forth in your churches. For men of today also feel the in-effable power of song that uplifts the soul and with gentle modulation gives expression to feelings of adoration, praise, penitence, and petition. Specially Chosen As regards holiness, this thought of St. Augustine should be deeply meditated: "Let not your voice only sound forth the praises of God, but let your deeds be in harmony with your voice" (Enarr. in Ps. 166, 2; PL 37, 1899). Although you have withdrawn from the world, to be occupied with the Lord, you have nonetheless "been specially chosen to preach the good news" (Rom l:l). May that hidden apostolic fruitfulness of which the Council speaks (see Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 7) flow out therefore from your mon-asteries upon the Church and society. May the yeast be prepared in them whereby, through the operation of divine power, the world may be renewed. This holiness, moreover, pertains not only to the life of the soul, but also to what you are doing for the cultivation of natural gifts, inasmuch as, to mention some examples, you devote yourselves to liturgical, Biblical, and historical studies for the common benefit, or, you engage in work, especially manual labor. Indeed, this last, may I add, enables you to go to the assist-ance of those who are suffering from poverty and other hardships, in keep-ing, of course, with the practices of the monastic life. This is in accord with the mind of the Council fathers who exhorted religious "to contribute to the Documents concerning Religious / 13 support of the poor, whom all should love with the tenderness of Christ" (see Decr. Per[ectae caritatis, 13; Const. Gaudium et spes, 42). Finally, not only your own individual life, but the life of the community as a whole, whereby you are joined one to another with the sweet bond of charity, should be adorned by this mark of holiness: that through the fel-lowship of community life directed to God, each individual is assisted in carrying out his service to the Lord, is incited to work for his brethren, is protected from dangers. Thus you will truly bear witness before the world to the holiness of the Church. In short, a community such as this, like a kind of novitiate, prepares religious during their lifetime for the everlasting day. Not without reason did St. Bernard reckon among the aids to good works: "to desire eternal life with all spiritual avidity" (Reg. cap. 4). ~ Example and Exhortation Of all these practices let the abbot give the example and exhort thereto the brethren entrusted to his care. Although the office of governing is ren-dered more difficult at the present time, yet he who "is believed to hold the place of Christ in the monastery" (Reg. cap. 2) should make the utmost effort that the vigor of spiritual life and of monastic discipline be strength-ened, increased, and, if need be, restored. To this end the abbot should en-deavor to maintain an unimpaired union with the magisterium of the Church, like a channel through which living water is drawn off for himself and for the brethren placed in his charge. The foregoing is what we have had affectionately in mind to say to you, and we do not doubt you will strive that your Order may aid the building up of the Church with spiritual forces, also in these times, to the needs of which it should prudently adapt itself. The announced Holy Year should offer you further incentive, since as you know we wish it to be a time of interior renewal. Lastly, as a pledge of heavenly gifts and as testimony of our assured affection, we impart the Apostolic Blessing to you who are here present and to all the members of your families in the Lord. ADDRESS TO THE LITTLE SISTERS OF JESUS The following address was given to the Little Sisters of Jesus at an audience of October 3, 1973. Dear Little Sisters of Jesus, last Friday we had the very sweet joy of meeting you at Tre Fontane, in the eloquent simplicity of your houses and in an impressive atmosphere of evangelical serenity and happiness. Your participation in this audience is like a return feast, for you and for us like-wise. To the thirty-seven Little Sisters who have just made their vows of per- 14 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 petual consecration at St. Peter's tomb, we address our best wishes for fervent faithfulness. But our brief words are also addressed to their families, who have in many cases come from very far away to be present at their de-finitive commitment "because of Jesus and the Gospel." They are addressed likewise to the two hundred Little Sisters at present attending a session of spiritual formation under the direction of dear Father Voillaume. We entrust to you our heart's most ardent desire. We would like you to take all over the world the conviction that a religious profession com-mits at such a profound level that changes of structures and activities have only a relative importance, even if one suffers from them. The essential thing is to keep a very keen awareness of the call of Christ who chooses His friends Himself (see Jn 15:15.) Is not Fr~re Charles de J6sus an example of this faithfulness deepened through different, if not contradictory, situ-ations? It is clear, however, that his mysterious route finds its coherence and its unity in passionate imitation of Jesus Christ, the One Model. Fr~re Charles de J6sus appears as one of the most perfect types of this deep faith-fulness of a human freedom to the freedom and faithfulness of God, who took him far beyond his expectations and hopes. Dear Little Sisters of Jesus, be confiden!! To be faithful does not con-sist in becoming tense over one's promises, but in relying on the Lord to ensure our ~faithfulness. That is why the long hours spent~with Christ in the Holy Eucharist will always be the primary and indispensable source of the friendship, the evangelical testimony you have promised to give in the Church and in the world today. It is with these sentiments that we renew our affectionate Apostolic Blessing to you and to your relatives and to your whole religious family. ADDRESS TO REDEMPTORISTS On October 6, 1973, the Pope gave the following talk to the members of the general chapter of the Redemptorists. Beloved Sons, To you assembled in the General Chapter of your Congre-gation of the Most Holy Redeemer and engaged in deliberations of great importance to the life of your religious family, We extend our affectionate greeting. We desire, moreover, to welcome expressly the new superior gen-eral, who is charged with the office and the burden of guiding your congre-gation through the difficulties of our times--neither few nor inconsiderable --and of conducting it to "green pastures" (see Ps 22:2). Purpose of Chapters A general chapter provides an excellent opportunity--offered to every institute--to 'reflect once more upon the true nature and end set for the institute and to hold discussions that will have a salutary effect on the life of the members. For the responsibility of a general chapter is not discharged Documents concerning Religious / 15 by holding elections and. legislating; .the chapter must also promote the spiritual and apostolic vitality of the whole body (see Litterae Ap. Ecclesiae sanctae, motu proprio, I, 2). Therefore, in a meeting of this kind, the entire family is gathered together in the presence of God to hear His voice and take counsel with regard to its renewal which, as also for the whole Church, "essentially consists in an increase of fidelity to its own calling" (see Conc. Vat. II Decr. Unitatis redintegratio, 6). Your congregation was founded by that most devout Doctor of the Church, St. Alphonsus, in order that its members might sanctify them-selves by an assiduous and faithful imitation of Christ and also engage in apostolic works, above all that special care of souls involving salutary con-tact with the most abandoned. Servants of God Beloved Sons, you are servants of God in the true and primary sense of the word; for "by your vows you are totally dedicated to God through an act of supreme Love" (see Const. Lumen gentium, 44). To be dedi-cated means to be given over to another as his property and possession. You should be followers of Christ as the Universal Synod advised all re-ligious (see Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 2a), corroborating, as it were, and realizing more completely the desire of your Father Founder. Hence each of you must endeavor to order his life to a certain unity and seek Christ daily with a sincere and generous heart. Daily you should put on Christ, an effort which is the beginning and the end and the whole of your life, whether as individual religious or as communities. Thus you truly make Christ present in the world, which is in many instances utterly alienated from Him, its Redeemer. Then those who see you, who speak to you or liave dealings with you may experience a certain mysterious power emanating from our Savior. Thus also you manifest the holiness of the Church, to the world which especially demands holiness in her sons. Life of Charity This daily effort to put on the likeness of Christ constitutes, however, a life lived in charity and motivated by charity. For religious thus "impelled ¯ . . live ever increasingly for Christ and for His body the Church" (Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 1 ). But love truly and properly so called is not for a limited time, is not hedged by conditions, is not rendered less ardent by difficulties, and knows no end. Justly did the Second Vatican Council address to every religious the following exhortation to fidelity: "Let all who have been called to the profession of the vows take painstaking care to persevere and excel increasingly in the vocation to which God has summoned them" (Const. Lumen gentium, 47). The life in which one dedicates himself to God with an undivided heart 16 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 becomes a means to show forth the love of God for men. Just as God "loved the world so much that he gave his only son" (Jn 3:16), so too a religious who strives to attain the fullness of his vocation is a kind of gift bestowed upon the world. For an apostolate that is enlivened by continual prayer, liturgical and private, by ascetical zeal and the practice of the vir-tues, transfuses the divine life into men and constitutes in its truest sense the service of one's brothers in Christ. Beloved members of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, you have illumined the Church by the sanctity of certain of your brethren, of whom We are pleased to recall to mind the Saints, Alphonsus Mary de'Liguorl, your founder, Clement Hofbauer, Gerard Majella, Blessed John Nepomucene Neumann. By your apostolic labors you have brought the light of divine grace to so many souls. On the occasion of this general chapter, persevere with renewed alacrity in your noble purpose, and if need be give fresh impetus to your zeal and redouble your efforts that the Church of God may reap benefit from you now and in the future as in times past. In fatherly encouragement to you in all these efforts, we lovingly im-part the.Apostolic Blessing .~o you who are present here and to all your members. ADDRESS TO MISSIONARIES OF THE SACRED HEART At the general audience of October 10, 1973, the Holy Father gave the follow-ing talk to jubilarian Missionaries of the Sacred Heart who were present at the audience. Venerable Brothers and Dear Sons in Christ, It is a joy for us to receive you on this occasion which marks the anniversary of your sacerdotal ordi-nation. For forty years you have exercised the ministry of the priesthood, having been called by the Lord Himself and sent out by the Church to preach "Christ crucified" (1 Cor 1:23) and to assist in giving witness to His Resurrection (see Acts 4:33). We can well imagine how many graces the Lord has offered you over the years and how many helps your ministry has brought to those whom you have served with fidelity and sacrifice. On this happy occasion we are glad to offer you our blessing, our felicitations, and our encouragement. We see you as part of a vast number of our brother priests who have been conscious of their responsibility and calling and who have endeavored with God's grace to perform their ministry, in the spirit of St. Paul, as one "worthy of God's approval, a workman who has no cause to be ashamed" (2 Tim 2:15). Today we wish, at this point in your lives, to confirm you in the faith, which you have received and preached, and in the priestly vo-cation that has been your precious gift, high dignity, and important obliga-tion. We urge you at this time to keep alive your hope and to maintain to the end that confidence with which you began (see Heb 3:6,14). To each Documents concerning Religious / 17 of you we say with the Apostle: "God . . . will not forget your work and the .love you have shown him by your service, past and present, to his holy people" (Heb 6:,10). May Christ fill all of you with joy and keep you in his love. On our part we cordially give your our special Apostolic Blessing. Our special greeting of grace and peace in the Lord go to the members of the General Conference of the Congregation of the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart, gathered together to consider questions of religious life and missionary activity. As we assure you of our paternal affection and en-couragement, we pray that Christ Jesus will make you apt instruments of preaching His gospel with ever greater effectiveness. We pray that you may indeed draw copiously from the riches of His love so as to be able to com-municate this same love in all its fullness "to the praise of his glori6hs grace" (Eph 1:6). Our Apostolic Blessing accompanies you in your im-portant responsibilities. ADDRESS TO THE CLARETIAN CHAPTER On October 25, 1973, Paul VI gave an audience to the members of the Claretian general chapter during which he delivered the following address. Beloved Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary! We express to you our deep pleasure at th!s vi.s.!t you pay us at the con-clusion of the meetings of your general chfi~ter. We hope that the work you have carried out these days will be fruitful. We hope that the dedicated service of the superior general and of the other members elected to form part of his council, will be effective and helpful for the purposes of your religious family. ~ We cannot overlook a particularly, iIluhainating circumstance, ,.which makes this joyful meeting more attractive: yesterday we celebrated the liturgical feast of St. Antonio Maria Claret. You yourselves made known for this reason your desire to visit Peter's Successor. We thank you for this gesture of support, in which we see a testimony of ekquisite spiritual affinity with your founder. How could we fail to recall before his sons the deep de-votion' he felt for the Vicar of Christ? And how could we fail to,venerate his memory in view of his eloquent and moving 'profession of faith in papal infallibility at the I Vatican Council? All that obliges us gratefully to open our mind to you in confidence, so that. you know that it is in perfect har-mony of religious sentiments with your own. THE CLARETIAN IMAGE We are sure that, during these days of your chapter, the protecting and guiding presence of St. Antonio Maria became more intense and exacting among you. And we like to think too that, when tracing the lines of re-newal, you took as your fixed point of reference the most genuine faithful- 18 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 ness to the origins of your institute and to the teachings on the consecrated life that the II Vatican Council proposed .and we ourself have repeatedly in-culcated. Allow us to savour with what purity of characteristic features the image of the Claretian presented itself to the contemplation of St. Antonio Maria. We read it yesterday during the lesson: "I tell myself: a Son of the Immaculate .Heart~ of Mary is a man burning with charity who sets fire wherever he passes. Nothing disheartens him; he takes pleasure in priva-tions, meets difficulties, delights in slander, and rejoices 0in torments. He thinks of nothing except how to follow and imitate Jesus Christ, in working, suffering and struggling always and only for the greater glory .of God and the salvation of souls" (El celo, c. I, BAC 188 [1959], p. 777). o See here, projected towards you, a whole program of holiness, based on religious renunciation of oneself, the fruit of its fertile evangelical vitality. It points out to you clearly,, with expressions of clear Pauline dynamism the good to which your personal and community life must aspire: the following and imitation of Christ in impulses of a charity that is always operative. BEARERS OF VALUES If to this program of interior life we add the very special cult of the Blessed Virgin h~ inculcated in you together with the~rimary dedication to the ministry of the Word, ,we have the complete picture of the Claretian vocation and spirituality. These and no others were the motives that gave life and ,meaning to the irrepressible zeal of the son of Sallent. And none other was the stamp of religious austerity that he imposed on himself to make his ministry more worthy of credit and more in conformity with the demands of the divine call. To proclaim the Good News to the point of sacrificing oneself for the good of one's brothers, to teach men the ever new languagel of;charity, characterized his overwhelming pastoral,task as Arch-bishop of Santiago in Cuba. Rightly could~we say of him, as of the Apostle of the Gentiles, that his vigor as '.'herald and teacher in faith and truth" (see 1 Tim 2:7) suffered no decrease in the midst of difficulties. On the contrary, his pastoral cares, his missionary anxiety found a way to express themselves continually in new ministerial initiatives, at home and abroad, inspired and nourished by the spirit of faithful service to the Church. Beloved sons, .appreciate this spiritual patrimony of yours;, spare no effort in tending its roots, if you really wish to be a tree always young and flourishing, able to adapt itself to the environment, to the changing require-ments of the times in order to continue to give ripe fruit to the Church, as it did in the past and continues to do at present, through its most illustrious sons. , At the chapter you have just held you have been able to convince your-selves that you are bearers of certain values that do not grow old because they .are a select part of the heritage and the universal vocation of the Documents concerning Religious /o 19 Church. The Christian community itself asks you for faithfulness and dis-cretion, generosity and disinterestedness in order to accept you and recog-nize you as the living and united sign of its human and spiritual aspirations. We do not wish to expatiate at greater length. Entrusting these thoughts to you, we wish to encourage you in your aspirations to holiness with our prayers to the Immaculate Heart of Mary so that, with the help of her motherly intercession, you may be exemplary sons of the Church. As con-firmation of these desires and as a testimony of particular benevolence we warmly impart the Apostolic Blessing to you and to the whole Claretian family. First Penance and First Communion Sacred Congregation [or the Discipline of the Sacraments and Sacred Congregation for the Clergy The Supreme Pontiff Pius X, relying on the prescription of Canon 21 of the Fourth Lateran Council, decided by the Decree "Quam singulari" issued on August 8th 1910 (AAS 1910, pp. 577-583), that children, once they had reached the age of discretion, should receive the sacraments of penance and Eucharist. That decision, having been put into operation throughout the universal Church, has produced and continues to produce very many fruits of Christian life and spiritual perfection. The "Addendum" to the General Catechetical Directory issued on the 1 lth April, 1971, by the Sacred Congregation for the Clergy (AAS 1972 pp. 97-176) confirms the custom of children receiving the sacrament of penance before Communion: "Having weighed all these points, and keeping in mind the common and general practice which per se cannot be derogated without the approval of the Apostolic See, and also having heard the Con-ferences of Bishops, the Holy See judges it fitting that the practice now in force in the Church of putting confession ahead of first Communion should be retained." The same "Addendum" took into consideration the fact that in certain regions in the Church some new practices had been introduced allowing children to be admitted to first Communion without first receiving the sacra-ment of penance. It allowed such practices to be continued for a time, pro-vided there was "prior communication with the Apostolic See and., they [the Conferences of Bishops] are at one mind with it." Having now carefully considered the matter and having taken into con-sideration the wishes of the bishops, the Sacred Congregations for the Dis-cipline of the Sacrament~ and for the Clergy, by virtue of this present docu-ment, and with the approval of the Supreme Pontiff, Paul VI, now that the 2O First Penance a~nd First Communion two years have passed, declare that these experiments should be brought to an end with the conclusion of the school year 1972-73 and that, there-fore, the Decree "Quam singulari" is to be obeyed by all everywhere. Given at Rome 24 May 1973. ANTONIUS Card. SAMORI~ Praef . JOHANNES Card. WRIGHT Praef . A Note on Intercommunion Secretariat [or the Union of Christians The following text is an explanatory note concerning the "Instruction on Intercom-munion" issued by the Secretariat for the Union of Christians on June 1, 1972; the text of the 1972 "Instruction" was given in Review ]or Religious, January 1973, pp. 12-8. 1. After the publication of the "Instruction concerning Particular Cases When Other Christians May Be Admitted to Eucharistic Communion in the Catholic Church," on June 1, 1972, various interpretations of it were given, some of which depart from the letter and the spirit of the document. To pre-vent the spread of such inaccurate interpretations and their consequences, we think it useful to recall to mind a few points. 2. With this instruction, pastoral in character, the Secretariat for Pro-moting Christian Unity had no intention of changing the rules laid down by the Vatican Council's decree on ecumenism and further explained by the Directorium Oecumenicum. The intenti6n was to explain that the existing discipline derives from the requirements of the faith and so retains its full vigour. 3. The basic principles of the instruction are: a) There is an indissoluble link between the mystery of the Church and the mystery of the Eucharist or between ecclesial and Eucharistic com-munion; the celebration of the Eucharist of itself signifies the fullness of pro-fession of faith and ecclesial communion (cf. Instruction, par. 2, a, b, c). b) The Eucharist is for the baptized a spiritual food which enables them to live with Christ's own life, to be incorporated more profoundly in Him, and to share more intensely in the whole economy of the mystery of Christ (cf. Instruction, par. 3). 4. Within the full communion of faith, Eucharistic Communion is the .4 Note on lntercommunion / 23 expression of this full communion and, therefore of the unity of .the faithful; at the same time it is the means of maintaining and reinforcing this unity. But Eucharistic Communion practiced by those ,who are not in full ecclesial communion with each other cannot be the expression of that full unity which the Eucharist of its nature signifies and which in this case does not exist; for this reason such Communion,cannot be regarded as a means to be used to lead to full ecclesial communion. 5. All the same, both the Directorium Oecumenicurn and th~ '~Instruc-tion," on,the,strength of what has already been said in the Vatican Council,s decree on ecumenism, allow the possibility of exceptions insofar as the Eucharist is necessary spiritual nour!shment for the Christian life. 6. It is the local ordinary's responsibility to examine these exceptional cases and make concr&e decisions. The instruction (no. 6.) recalls that the Directorium Oecumenicum gives the episcopal authority power, to decide whether in these r~re cases the required conditions are present or not. The episcopal authority's faculty of examining and deciding is governed by criteria laid down in the Directorium Oecumenicum (no. 55) and further explained in the instruction (no. 4 b),:. ". admission to Carbolic'Eucha-ristic Communion is confined to particular cases of those Christians who have a faith in the sacrament in conformity with that of the-Church, who experience a serious spiritual need for the Eucharistic sustenance, who for a prolonged period are unable to have recourse to a minister of their own community °and who ask for the sacrament of their own accord; all' this provided that they have proper dispositions~ and lead lives worthy of a Christian." ~. This criterion is observed if,,ail the required conditions .are verified. An object.ire, pastorally responsible examination,does not allow any vof,the con-ditions to be ignored. . ~. ~ ~ It must also be noted that the instruction speaks of particular cases, which are to be examined individually. Hence-a general regulation.cannot be~ issued which makes a catego.ry .o.ut of an exce.ptional case, nor is it possibles.to legitimate on the basis:of, epikei.a by turning this latter into a general rule. Nevertheless, the bishops can in tiae various situations decide what are theneeds that make exceptions applicable, that is to say, what constitutes a special case, and they can determine the manner of verifying whether all the required conditions are fulfilled in such a particular case. When par-ticular cases presen.t themselves fairly often in one region, following a re-current pattern, episcopal conferences can issue some guiding principles for ascertaining that al!,the conditions are verified in particular cases. Normally however it will be within the competence of the local ordinary to judge such cases. 7. For other Christians to be admitted to the Eucharist in the Catholic Church the instruction requires that they manifest a faith in the sacrament Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 in conformity with that of the Catholic Church. This faith is not limited to a mere affirmation of the "real presence" in the Eucharist, but implies the doctrine of the Eucharist as taught in the Catholic Church. 8, It is to be noted that the instruction (no. 5) calls to mind the fact that the Directorium Oecumenicum (par. 34-54) provides for the Orientals not in full communion with the Catholic Church rules different from those regarding other Christians (par. 55-63)o For example, (a) Since they belong to a community whose Eucharistic faith is in con-formity with that of the Catholic Church, a personal declaration of faith in the sacrament will not be required of them when they are admitted: in an Orthodox this faith is taken for granted; (b) since the Orthodox Churches have true sacraments and, above all, by virtue of apostolic succession, the priesthood and the Eucharist, conces-sions for sacramental communion must take account of legitimate reciprocity (no. 43); (c) Justifiable reasons for advising sacramental sharing are considerably more extensive. 9. The question of reciprocity arises only with those Churches which have preserved the substance of the Eucharist, the sacrament of orders, and apostolic succession. Hence a Catholic cannot ask for the Eucharist except from a minister who has been validly ordained (Directorium Oecumenicum, no. 55). 10. The desire to share the Eucharist fundamentally expresses the desire of the perfect ecclesial unity of all Christians which Christ willed. Intercon-fessional dialogue on the theology of the Eucharist (as sacrament and sacrifice), on the theology of ministry and of the Church is pursuing its course within the ambit of the ecumenical movement, supported by the promises and prayer of our Lord; it is stimulated and enlivened by the charity, poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. We express the hope that the ecumenical movement will lead to a common profession of faith among Christians and so allow us to celebrate the Eucharist in ecclesial unity, giving fulfillment to the words, "Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body" ( 1 Cor 10: 17). This note has been approved by the Holy Father, who has authorized its publication. 17 October 1973 JOHN CardinaF WILLEBRANDS President CHARLES MOELLER Secretary Decree on the Holy Year Indulgence Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary A DECREE WHICH DETERMINES WHAT SPIRITUAL WORKS ARE NECESSARY TO GAIN "THE GIFT OF THE INDULGENCE" IN THE VARIOUS LOCAL CHURCHES ON THE OCCASION OF THE HOLY YEAR The Cardinal President of the Central Committee for the Holy Year has asked this Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary to determine what spiritual works are necessary to gain "the gift of the Indulgence," which the Holy Father has promised to reinforce the spirit of reconciliation and renewal which are the characteristics of this Holy Year. Charged by the Sovereign Pontiff, the Sacred Penitentiary grants that, from the 1st Sunday of Advent of this year, until the day when the Holy Year is solemnly initiated in Rome, the faithful of the individual local Churches can gain: 1. The Plenary Indulgence, in the times to be decided by the Episcopal Conferences, if they go on a. pious pilgrimage to the cathedral church, or also to o~her churches determined by the local Ordinary, in which a solemn community function is held; 2. The Plenary Indulgence, likewise in the times to be decided by the Episcopal Conferences, if gathered in groups (for example, families, school pupils, workers, employees and professional workers, pious associations), they visit the cathedral or other churches designated by the Ordinary, and remain there in pious meditation for a suitable time, concluding the visit with the recitation or singing of the Lord's Prayer and the Creed and with the invocation to the Blessed Virgin; 3. The Plenary Indulgence if, prevented by sickness or any other serious 25 26 / Review fo.r. Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 cause, they join spiritually in the pious pilgrimage, offering God their prayers and sufferings. As regards the diocese of Rome, which should rightly be in this matter an example and stimulus for other ecclesial communities, the same Sacred Penitentiary decrees that the times and ways to gain the aforesaid Plenary Indulgence shall be determined by the Cardinal Vicar General of Rome. Notwithstanding any provisions to the contrary. Rome, from the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary, 24 September 1973. G. SESSOLO Regent G. CARD. PAUP1NI Grand Penitentiary COMMENTARY ON THE HOLY YEAR INDULGENCE The following commentary on the preceding document appeared in L'osser-vatore romano, November 29, 1973, page 6. 1. By order ~f the Holy Father, the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued, on 24 September 1973, a decree confirming and clarifying what had already been said with regard to the Jubilee indulgence during this first phase of the Holy Year. It establishes::the so-called "work" or "pious practice" to be carried out by the faithful, at given times and places, to acquire the Jubilee indulgence. ~ .' The "work" prescribed is a "pilgrimage" to a designated church, con-cl'~ ding witl~ barticipation in a solemn community servic~ or at le.ast with the i'ecitatign 'of some prayers. Summarizing the decree of 24 September 1973 and keeping in mind both the norms for indulgences and the Holy Father's Letter of 31 May 1973, to Cardinal Maximilian de Ftirstenberg, President of the Central Committee for the Ho!y Year, the following points.may be r~oted. The faithful who, duly,dispoged, approach the sacraments of confession affd communion and pray acco~:ding to the intentions of the Holy Father and the Episcopal C~ollege, are granted, in conformity with the norms in fbrce, the gift of the i91enary indulgence, at the time~'to be determined by the respective Episcopal Conference, beginning from 2 December 1973: (a) if they'take part in a pilgrimage to the cathedral church or to another church #esignated by the local Bishop and participate in solemn comrriunity serVice there; (b) if they go in groups (for example ram!lies, "sc3ools, professignal @orkers, associations) to one of the afpresaid chur'~hes and devote the, m-s'elves for ~/suitable space bf time to pious considerations, concluding them with the recitation or the singing of the Ou{ Fath~" and the Creed and with an invocation to the Blessed Virgifi; (c) if, being unable to take part in'tli~ pilgrimage of their comn~unity (ecclesial, family, or social), because they are pi'evented by illness or any ~Decree on the Holy Year Indulgence / 27 .o, ther serious cause, they join in it .spiritually by offering their prayers and sufferings. 2. We spoke above of the faithful being ."duly disposed." This is a reminder that the '.'gift of. t, he indulgence" must .be merited by fervent prep-aration; it is bestowed to reward° and "strengthen"--as we readAn the re-cent d.e~cree--the spirit of renewal and reconciliation that must characterize the Hgly Year. , For this reason the simple practices that are required to gain the Jubilee indulgence must not be separated from the work of preparation, on which s9 much stress has rightly been laid. The practices themselves are, as ~it were, the point of arrival°and ,tOe exte_r.na_l sign of deep renewal of the spirit and reinvigorated love for God and one's brethren. . No.w, ,,the work of renewal and fervor is 'the most valuable part of the Holy Year, because, great as is the value of the indulgence that remits the te.mporal pen,alty in the case of, those who are disposed, the value of the works proposed when their fulfillment leads,to an increase of charity is in-comparably greater (St. Thomas, Supplement to the Theological Summa, q. 25~ 2, 2 and q. 27, 2, 2). ,. 3. We mentioned above--in addition to the proper disposition and the "work" prescribed~what are commonly called "conditions" for gaining the Jubilee indulgence, namely:sacramental confession, eucharistic,communion, and prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and the Episcopal College. The three "conditions" mentioned above are also required for every other plenary indulgence, with the only difference that the prayer, according to the general norms, is said for the intentions of the Holy Father, while in this circumstance the Holy Father himself (cf. Letter to Cardinal de Ftirs-tenberg, quoted above) has wished to associate the intentions of the Bishops with his own. For the fulfillment of the conditions (cf. Norms, nn. 27, 28 and 29), the following should be noted: " (a) Communion and prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and of the Episcopal College should be on the same day on which the pilgrimage is made, but they may be before or afterwards. (b) To fulfill the condition of prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and the Bishops, the faithful may recite a prayer of their own choice. (c) As for sacramental confession, in order to be able to make it un-hurriedly, it can be made even twenty days before or after the pilgrimage. It should also be remembered that confession must be made even by those who do not feel any serious guilt on their conscience; that it is required on the occasion of any plenary indulgence, but even more so for the Jubilee indulgence because of the particular commitment of purification and re-newal that the Holy Year entails. The confession, in fact, if the penitent so desires and the confessor con-s~ ders ~t useful, may ~nclude not only the s~ns since the last good confession, Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 but also the sins of a longer period of time to facilitate a deeper renewal of life. Furtherra~ore, to facilitate the faithful in making their individual con-fession, the recommendation that there should be confessors available "on the days and at the hours established for the convenience of the faithful" (cf. Normae~ pastorales of the S0 Congr. of the Doctrine of the Faith. 16 June 1972, AAS 64, 1972, page 513), is especially applicable for the Holy Year. (d) During .the Holy Year it is also ct~stomary to grant confessors special faculties in order that, if necessary, they"can absolve penitents in some cases, usually "reserved" to higher authority, without the obligation of re-course to the Bishop or to other competent Superior or to the Holy See. During the first phase of the Holy Year, which is celebrated in the vari-ous local Churches, the Bishops can make provision in this regard by grant-ing, at least to the more experienced confessors, the ample faculties at their disposal (cf. M.P. Pastorale munus of 30 November 1963, n. 14: AAS 56, 1964, p. 8). 4. Mention was also made above, in a generic way, of the "norms in force." It will be sufficient to recall here expressly the following two: (a) Every indulgence can" be applied to the dead by way of suffrage (norm 4). (b) The plenary indulgence can be acquired only once a day (norm 24, 1). Religious Life: Style or Culture? Vincent P. Branick, S.M. Father Vincent P. Branick, S.M., teaches Scripture and philosophy at Chaminade College of Honolulu; 3140 Waialae Avenue; Honolulu, Hawaii 96816. Paradoxically, loneliness has appeared most intensely in communities which have accepted in full seriousness the needs of the individual to express and communicate his unique personality. Groups which have sacrificed rich traditions to avoid the suffocation of their members in a mass of impersonal structures, congregations which have radically reformed their rules in quest of a truly personalized life have found their members suffering an over-whelming sense of isolation and lack of social maturity, to the extent of a serious weakening or even destruction of~their religious vocation. The Loss of Religious Culture Obviously, the ideals of personalism governing these reforms are not false. The evident validity of these ideals has led administrators to hold to the reforms in the face of their congregations' equally evident devitaliza-tion and even extinction. The mistake lies not in the ideals but in an un-recognized consequence resulting from an oversimplified pursuit of these ideals, namely, in the loss of religious culture. Many young people who came to religious life with a profound desire to be religious are leaving for the lack of a religious culture in which they could live. Many older religous are retreating into a comfortable bachelorhood for want of a religious cul-ture in which they could grow. What is this missing culture? Culture in General In its fundamental sense, a culture is a milieu or atmosphere in which 29 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 the human person can express his heartfelt values and through which he can communicate with others about these values. A culture is a consistent pat-tern of practices and manners which specify a shared approach to life, a familiar environment in which an individual finds himself, in which he can feel "at home." This fundamental sense of culture appears most strikingly in the cele-bration of a folk-festival. A nation celebrating itself gathers up its heritage, dances, and contests as a reminder of all that its members have in common. The songs a people sings are truly its songs. These are the songs which its ancestors sang and which likewise catalyzed its ancestors' sense of identity. Through these traditioned customs a nation can celebrate its solidarity in the present and its link to its past. Thus, a folk-festival is not a celebration separated from daily life, but rather an intensification of elements active in a lesser way throughout the daily life of a people, binding a people together. The stranger can visit and enjoy the celebration, but he can never fully par-ti~ ipate in it. He is not of the same culture. Culture as a Social Reality In its more common meaning as a complex of refinements and sensi-bilities, culture is likewise basically a social concept. The "cultivated" per-son is one whose sensibilities have been refined to perceive the beauty of the art and customs of a nation, to understand and use the language and literature that bind a people together, ultimately to understand the languages and customs that bind all men together. The use of such refinement as a device for. mere self-display produces a grotesque caricature, confusing cul-ture. with snobbery. True culture is essentially a social reality. The cultivated person is one who has mastered.the symbols of a society, the symbols which are the means of communication within that scciety. As a social reality, culture is an extension of the human body's ability to symbolize the soul to others. It is an extension produced by a consistent use of many details of life, perhaps insignificant in themselves but very sig-nificant in the pattern they form together. This extension is accomplished with other persons, who together create a circle of common gestures, lan-guage, dress, and other customs, a circle in which each individual feels at home, in which he can express himself and be confident,of understanding, since he is communicating with others in a familiar medium. The N~ed of Every Man for a Culture Every man needs such a culture in which to grow. The man in society needs to feel a certain rhythm about him which he knows and which he can use as a sounding board for his inner life, allowing him to concretize and control that inner life and, above all, to share it with others. Even the her-mit has taken with him his language and his manners which remain at least an unconscious reminder of the people he knows and which .allow him to Religious Li]e: Style or Culture? / 31 express to himself the life he is leading. The man without a culture is the barbarian, the one incapable of using the symbols of communication, the conventions of sharing; thus he is reduced to grunting his basic needs. Far from suppressing individual persons and ideas, the discipline of a culture provides a man with the means of expressing and developing his individuality. The great poets expressed their genius not by creating new and private languages, but by mastering their mother tongues. Perhaps the great attraction of the "hippy culture" was its success in mediating a solidarity and communication among its members. The pattern of the many external, insignificant details permitted one member to talk to another. The long, slightly matted hair, the beard, the colorful but bleached clothes, necessarily frayed at the edges, the beads, and above all, the vocabulary--these details, insignificant in themselves, formed a culture within which one hippy could understand another. The apparent contradic-tion between the hippy ideal of freedom in personal expression, on the one hand, and the strict conformity in dress and hair, on the other, can be un-derstood in the light of the enormous importance such details have when taken together to form a culture. Religious Culture In the same way the person who enters religious life needs a culture, The person who wishes to live his Christian life in intense simplicity and poverty, the person who seeks a prolonged meditative prayer needs a pat-tern of bodily symbols to concretize his aspirations, a sounding board against which he can objectify his ideals. Furthermore, he needs others who share his spiritual values and with whom he can communicate. He thus needs an atmosphere or pattern in which he can develop this life and communicate with others about this life. He needs a religious culture. It is not surprising to find at the historical origin of religious life the practice of spiritual di-rection, the practice of communicating profound religious insights and val-ues, oa practice which gradually of itself expanded into a pattern of religious customs, into a complete religious culture. Loss ~f Culture by Focus on Style Many communities .today have lost this sense of religious culture 'by focusing rather on the question of style. The emphasis on personal style in religious life has had the value of underlining the individual differences in a community, differences which enrich a.community. Yet, in fact, this same emphasis on personal style has broken down much of the consistent re-ligious patterns and symbols in congregationsland, as a result, much of the communication among the members. Diverse individuals and groups, each absorbed in its preferred style, became isolated from each other. Frequently one religious no longer knew if.another possessed the same spiritual sensi-bilities, the same interests, the same background on which communication Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 could be based. The least common denominator in a particular community became less and less. As religious life became a "life style," attention shifted from "life" to "style," and individuals charted their courses alone, away from each other. Presupposed in this pluralistic approach was the belief that each mem-ber of a community could work out his style of life by himself. The man who wished austerity could rise early by himself, eat frugally by himself, and by himself develop a contemplative form of prayer. Supposedly, the others in the same community who did not wish to share this desert could avail themselves of more bourgois amusements. This presupposition, however, neglects man's need for a culture. In effect, this emphasis on style has led to the introduction into the con-gregations of diversities normally holding among congregations. A particu-lar community could find itself composed of austere Trappists, Christian hippies, and mere professional bachelors, each with his own spirituality, each with his own style. Sharing the same province or even living under the same roof, members of communities began to look like strangers to each other. The fundamental element of religious life, spiritual direction, be-came impossible. Prayer life broke down, not through laziness, but through loneliness, through the inability to communicate with others about one's prayer. Formation of recruits became an impossible task, often involving a series of contradictory instructions as a young person passed from the recruiting community, to the novice master, and on through the stages of formation. Rebuilding Religious Culture At present most attempts to rebuild the bond among the members of a community tend in two distinct ways.', the one "theoretical," the other "recreational." The first consists of an attempt to find and concentrate on "the essen-tials." In the face of a bewildering variety of life styles, many communities have sought to articulate the essence of their life, the core reality that every-one could accept, on which everyone could concentrate, allowing then the accidentals to vary according to individual preferences. The theologians were asked to present in clear terms the essence of religious life. General chapters met and held their breath, waiting for this description of the essence. They will probably continue to wait for some time, because the task of articulating the essence of such a concrete and mysterious reality as re-ligious life appears as an impossible job. Whatever "essential trait" is sei~ed upon, whether some particular vow, the three vows, or community life, there appears in history or in the present some obviously religious form of life that flourished or is presently flourishing without it. The appeal to ca-nonical definitions likewise fails to point out an essence of the life, since Religious Li]e: Style or Culture? / 33 these definitions appear more as descriptions after the fact, more as arti-ficially clear and distinct deliniations required for the legal functioning of the Church than as theological penetrations into the fundamental structure of the life. Like peeling away the successive skins to find the onion, the-ologians peeled away the "accidents" but found little left to identify as an essence. The second method of rebuilding the bond among the members of a community is far more down to earth and consists on stressing "the com-mon fun." While awaiting the perfect theology of religious life, people can do something practical. They can recreate together and in that recreation seek to build a community. Such suggestions as "Let's fire the cook and make our own meals together!" or "Everybody in the club room tonight for cocktails!" often clothe desperate attempts to build community. Certainly this effort has served well by focusing on the real need for sim-ple friendliness in communities (to say nothing of the marvelous cooks pro-duced). Yet the idea of common life meant more to the ancients than our attempts at common fun. Such a shallow basis of life does not attract dedi-cated young people. If all they see is this recreational aspect of our lives, they will hardly be convinced to sacrifice spouse and children for a con-viviality that can never approximate the intensity and warmth of a natural family. The community recreation is important, but it can never form the basis of religious common life. The Need to Reestablish a Religious Culture The isolation and loneliness vitiating communities can be overcome only by reestablishing a whole religious culture, a consistent and relatively stable milieu in which religious can feel at home as religious, a pattern of con-crete practices through which one religious can express his deep spiritual values to another. The precise culture will vary with each congregation. Any form, how-ever, will demand certain general lines. First, a religious culture demands an attention to a multitude of accidental details, many of which when taken alone may appear insignificant and even superficial. Neither the cut of the clothes, nor the simplicity in a house, nor the hour of rising appears worthy of an intense crusade. It is useless to seek a rationale directly behind such details, and the temptation exists to peel them away one by one, to peel them away as though from some essential core. Yet insofar as it is a cul-ture, the essence of religious life may be inseparable from the sum total of the "accidents." A religious culture does not stand or fall with any particu-lar detail, but the simple removal of each accidental reduces by that much the identifiability of that culture. Second, any religious culture is necessarily built around the form of prayer of the community, more specifically, around the degree of con-templation a community chooses to practice. A particular type of prayer 34 / Review for Religious, l/olume 33, 1974/1 often requires an ambience, a degree of calm, a type of simplicity regulat-ing the details of the whole day. Conversely, a particular form of contempla-tive prayer colors all else: personal service, the celebration of the Eucharist, professional work. The type and degree of mental prayer is thus a key ele-ment in any religious culture. Third, religious culture, like any culture, requires a willingness of the members to sacrifice personal preferences for the consistency of a com-munity atmosphere, to place a social culture before a personal style. This is not to say that the culture must take the form of some immobile mass of customs. Customs must evolve. As practices no longer serve to communicate the spiritual inspiration of a community, as gestures lose their symbolic values, they should disappear. However, a culture must change as a culture. It must evolve on,the basis of other more stable elements, not on the basis of members darting off in their own directions, according to the demands of personal style. ¯ Within the context of such a religious culture, the search for the essence of religious life can continue, guided not simply by an abstract analysis, but, .more importantly, by a lived contact with the reality. Since religious life is received by man as gift, not produced by him as invention, since the life is fundamentally beyond his natural powers, he will probably never attain that clear insight into the nature of the life that results in a precise defini-tion. Our speech about religious life will probably always be dominated more by poetic intuition than by abstract concept, a poetic intuition that feels at home with small details and operates from a position within the object spoken of. Likewise, the efforts to improve community recreation should have an important part in the building of religious culture. The simple kindness and conviviality of a community recreation can be a powerful expression of the fundamental value of fraternal love, if this expression is part of a greater milieu. Culture and Personal Development Where the individual religious finds a living and consistent culture, there he will find the medium in which to express his unique individuality. In the expressed solidarity of a group, a member has the means of developing a truly personalized life. There he has the means of expressing for himself and for others his unique riches. A culture which involves even many small details will not stifle individuality. As the expression of the spirit, a culture will function as a guide and an agent of personal development. Only a vibrant culture in religious life will dispel the present loneliness. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious Sister Jane Marie Kerns, S.H.C.J. Sister Jane Marie is a faculty member of West Catholic Girls High School and,lives at the Convent of the Holy Child Jesus; 4724 Cedar Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19143. ~ Six years have passed since the CMSW undertook the monumental study known as the Sisters Survey in an attempt to delve into the thinking and feelings of the religious who participated. Prescinding from the reported findings, one can suspect that even the launching of such a study had value simply as a consciousness-raising device. Foremost among the areas of re-ligious life that came under scrutiny was the, dynamics of group living that we call community life. Explosive--because it is inescapably personal-- and sacrosanct--because it is integral to religious traditions and the essence of religious life as we understand it, the whole topic of group living by re-ligious is subject to biased interpretations. Why? Perhaps just because celibates need so much from community life. Perhaps just because we de, pend so much on life in community to underwrite the whole structure of the social apostolates in which we engage. Perhaps just because an ideal form of community life promises to make tangible and present the kingdom of God toward which we daily strive. Size and Cohesiveness Whatever the reason, there can be no doubt that community is a prime concern among religious and that size as related to cohesion is a pivotal area. In order to bring empirical objectivity into an issue clouded with un-conscious and often conflicting biases, the author undertook a research 35 36 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 project designed to investigate the effects of size on the cohesiveness of groups of religious living together in local communities. By devising a method to quantify the degree of cohesion exhibited through the affective choices made by members of several large and small communities, it was possible to make a comparison based on evidence more objective than opinion and more concrete than theory. Background The CMSW Survey in 1967 showed that 59.7% of the 125,000 sisters who responded to it felt that there was an optimal size of community groups beyond which it would be impossible for members living together to become a community. (Though the Survey did not define the term com-munity, it is patent from much of the literature of the day that sisters under-stand some special sense of fraternity and solidarity or cohesiveness that should be characteristic of the shared life of religious who live together.) Among the Sisters of the Holy Child Jesus, who were the subjects of the research project on which this article is based, an even greater majority-- 78.2%--concurred in the opinion expressed on the CMSW Survey instru-ment. In subsequent years a plethora of literature praising small group living has led to a general belief among religious in the therapeutic value of the small local community as the preventative for malformation of personality and as a booster shot for personal fulfillment through the healthy human interaction indispensable for strong ego-building? The impetus for the renewal of religious life given by Vatican II in-corporated much that flowed from the best developments of social psy-chology. In this context the drive to revivify the apostolate of the Church required that religious orders of men and women march in tune with the personalism of the culture of which they are a part. Definition of the Problem From this two-pronged incentive of development in the social sciences and updating in the Church, there arose interest in the applicability of many facets of small group research to religious communities. Focusing on the i~ssumptions that in a given group (1) more frequent interaction conse-quent on smaller nfimbers of members tends to produce more cohesive groups and (2) members of a small cohesive group will experience more strong satisfying interpersonal relationships than members of a larger group, the author undertook an empirical study of eleven groups of re-ligious sisters for the purpose of developing an index of cohesiveness that would enable comparisons to be made between larger and smaller groups, 1Gabriel Moran and Maria Harris, Experiences in Community (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968). This is one of many possible examples. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious and thus promise an objective test of the hypotheses involved. In brief, those hypotheses state that community size will have a signifi-cant effect both on the number of members with whom one can have good positive relationships and also on the proportionate number of people in community with whom one can have such relationships. Definilion of Key Words Certain key words must be defined in accordance with their use in this ¯ study in order to provide a common working base. The following appear to be most important: 1. cohesion 2. good, positive relationship 3. group--small, large Because of characteristics peculiar to religious orders, the task of defining terms is more complicated than simply borrowing from highly quoted au-thors in the field. A method of definition by distillation was employed in areas where circumstances required. A prime example was the term cohesion. In consulting authors,~ one is confronted with a notion of forces constraining members to remain in the group. But there is nothing in the literature that seems to correspond to the force of perpetual vows which bind the religious to membership in the re-ligious institute and to residence in specific local communities according to the directives from authorities in the order. Two levels of "force" are in-herent in the situation of the religious. One revolves around the strength of his commitment to the religious life itself and the second around the de-gree of commitment with which he engages in the affairs of the local house in which he lives--a commitment arising basically from a sense of duty toward an ideal based outside of the group in which he lives. A third force, distinct from the levels mentioned above, yet probably to some extent conditioned by his whole approach to religious life, is the at-traction that the local community holds for the religious by reason of the rapport he feels with particular members of that given group at any one time. Since all the groups used in this study operate under the same two forces resulting from religious profession in the order, it appears that the third type of force is more germane to our purposes here. Therefore, cohe-sion in this study denoted ". the degree of attachment (involvement, be-longingness, importance) that members have for the group.":' In this con-text then cohesion refers to the obvious capacity of the group to satisfy the ~The writings of men like Cartwright and Zander or Festinger, Schachter, and Back are typical. :~Clovis R. Shepherd, Small Groups: Some Sociological Perspectives (San Francisco: Chandler, 1964), p. 25. 311 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 personal needs of its members. It is this connotation that is meant by "strong, satisfying, interpersonal relationships" referred to in the second assumption; and this is the definition of good, positive relationships used in this work. (Though use of the word "friendship" might be a more graceful way of ex-pressing these ideas, its use is being purposefully avoided to.allow for a more open-ended definition of friendship to be employed later in the pre-sentation. ) By small groups, we shall mean groups of between 6 and 11 members and the large groups used in the study ranged from 12 to 29. Procedure The procedure used in the research involved a sociogram-like type of questionnaire in which the respondents were asked to list any number of sisters with whom they had lived during the last year and with whom they would enjoy engaging in a series of activities ranging from purely recrea-tional, to work related, to deeper, more intimate sharing on the religious plane. In every situation the emphasis was on the natural affectivity of one sister for her companions and not any exercise of supernatural charity? Approximately 91% of the sisters responded thus providing the researcher with excellent material from which to construct four measures of cohesion. Three of these stemmed from analysis of who chose whom and how often. By diagrammatically presenting the chain of relationships resulting from tracing the choices of the most frequently chosen individuals as they re-lated to the others in. community, a distance factor was developed. Finally, a study was made of the average number of "good friends" that the sisters INDEX OF COHESION AS DEVELOPED THROUGH THIS STUDY Community z-score corrected distance use of per- average size order ranking z-scores factor sonality votes rank " A 1 1 1 1 1 B 3 2 2 2 2 C 8 3 5 6 6 D 2 5 4 4 3 E 4 7 3 5 4 F 5 6 9 9 7 G 6 4 7 3 5 H 9 10 8 8 l0 I ll 11 6 7 8.5 J 7 8 10 10 8.5 K 10 9 11 11 I1 4For a complete exposition of the steps involved in the research readers are referred to the original work by the author, Sister Jane Marie Kerns, A Quantitative Analysis o[ Size and Cohesion (unpublished M.A. thesis, St. Louis University, 1973). Size and the Cohesiveness oI Groups of Religious / 39 in each house claimed. In this phase of the project each respondent was permitted to define the phrase "good friend" in any way that she felt was adequate and then she was asked to tell how many such "good friends" she had in the~ community in which she lived. Analysis of this section revolved around both the absolute number of good friends claimed and the number proportionate to the size of the community. Interpretation of Results A word of caution is in order here. Before any interpretation of the results can be presented, it must be remembered that this study was de-signed to measure relative cohesion only. It cannot be stretched to comment on disunity, on morale, or on working efficiency of the groups involved; and it must be seen as a measure of natural affectivity--a factor which cannot be assumed to be the dominant motive force for most of the group's activity. This caution is necessary both to maintain a scientific discipline and also to prevent our losing sight of the supernatural aspects of community life that cannot have been explored in this kind of work. Be that as it may, it is still remarkable to notice that the study revealed the presence of no isolates--persons not chosen by any other members of a group--in any of the eleven communities totaling 141 religious. Not only are there no iso-lates, but in actual count there is no, member of any community who was not chosen by at /east 21% of the members of the community who re-plied--- by no fewer than 50% of the members in 7 out of the 1! com-munities. Therefore, it can be insisted that we are justified only in conclud-ing to relatively more or less cohesion but not to any implication of disunity or disaffection. Size as a Significant Factor It can be stated unequivocally that the empirical evidence presented points to size as a significant factor in the study of cohesion. There is every reason to conclude that the smaller, the group, the more the members demonstrate stronger natural choices for a wider segment of the group. But hidden within this general overall conclusion are several important considerations that must be brought to light. Whereas the techniques used here demonstrated the validity of the commonly held belief that small groups tend to be more cohesive, the ques-tion dealing with friendship upset the commonly held expectation that more good friendships are found within small groups and that theoexistence of such friendships is the reason for greater cohesion. From our study the results indicated that such a line o[ r~easoning is faulty. In the first place, smaller houses reported neither a greater number of friendships absolutely nor a greater number proportionately speaking. Hence, friendship and co-hesion are not synonymous nor are they positively related. Rather, it might be concluded that they are alternatives within the group process. 40 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 Two possible lines of thought might be adduced to explain the seeming contradictions posed by the fifth stage of the investigation. First, by de-veloping and combining some of the thought of Simmel~ and of Mancur Olson'~ with regard to small groups, a synthesis can be arrived at which sheds light on the subject. Simmel's contribution springs from his conten-tions that smaller groups have qualities, including types of interaction among their members, which inevitably disappear when the groups grow larger. Olson points to a major difference between large and small groups when he formulates as a principle: ". the larger the group, the less it will further its common interests." Second, by appropriating some of the insights of Sister Joan Michele Rake7 and blending them with the thought of Simmel and Olson, the contradiction of fewer friendships in more cohesive groups is dissolved. Sister Joan Michele draws the boundaries between "engulf-ment" by the community and self-development of the healthy religious who makes good use of the structures of community. Hers is not so much a study of the effect of size but rather a clarification of issues on some of the dynamics at work in any group. The Specifics of Small Groups Consider the relative investment that members of a small group must make in order to obtain the benefits of membership and conversely the mag-nitude of the slack that must be taken up by the remaining members if one member fails to carry his own weight. More specifically, consider the num-ber of functions that must bc performed smoothly if life in the house is to be mutually beneficial. Since the small group enables not only face-to-face rela-tionships but even more importantly, person-to-person contact and consul-tation, many of the decisions reached and the functions implicit in the religious life lived in community are arrived at and disseminated tacitly. For example, each one knows from personal experience that does not need explicitation that communal worship can only be consummated if the com-munity is present and each one knows that in a small house her absence is both noticed and keenly felt. The differential involved is not merely a quan-titative one, but actually a qualitative one. There is a certain unspecified number below which communal worship declines into merely a collection of individuals attending the same liturgical function. And it is this height-ened sense of awareness of the qualitative contribution made by personal participation of each that typifies the small group. Person-to-person contact makes possible agreement--implicit or ex-plicit-- on common goals of a more specific nature than can be formulated '~Kurt H. Wolff, The Sociology o] Georg Simmel (Glencoe: Free Press, 1950), p. 87. ~;Mancur Olson, The Logic o] Collective Action (New York: Schocken, 1968), p. 36. rSister Joan Michele Rake, Friendship in Religious Li]e (unpublished M.A. thesis, Duquesne University, 1969), Chap. 7. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups o]. Religious / 41 when a larger number of individuals is involved. And converSely, devia-tion from the commonly accepted ideas is more obvious and therefore re-quires more of an expenditure of psychic energy for continued adherence on the part of the deviant and more of an effort on the part of the group as a whole to combat either by modifying the idea or by converting the deviant member. Whether we speak of positive elements that tend to unite or of negative elements that tend to threaten the group's solidarity, there is more immediate response required, a greater expenditure of personal effort on the part of each member in the small group, and a return in the way of benefits of group membership commensurate with the effort expended. The Specifics of Large Groups In the large group the sahae level of return is expected, but the level of expectation of individual participation is lower. Since person-to-person com-munication on. :every issue and between every set of persons is too time-consuming and too indeterminate in the process of seeking consensus, cer-tain abstractions in the form of community mechanisms, offices, and so forth must be established and these become looked upon as the expression of group cohesion that can no longer be immediately and obviously attained. The areas of shared ideas becom6 somewhat more general and, therefore, more readily acceptable to the total group in spite of the greater variety of opinions. In turn these more abstract expressions of relations and more general types of agreements require less commitment on the part of the individual. Though the ideas themselves may be less "radical," less basically rooted in the peculiar characteristics of the group, more generalized, ad-herence to the ideas becomes more radical, more a bare minimum that can-not be sacrificed if group unity is to be maintaini~d. A full complement of the members is not required to constitute a "com-munity presence." Absenteeism is not as noticeable--certainly not as per-tains to the particular individual who is absent, since her personal contribu-tion has in some ways become distanced or formalized in the large group setting. Differences between Small and Large Groups Wha~t results from the above discussion is an argument to the effect that the demonstrably greater cohesion among the small group members results more from a heightened sense of personal investment and personal con-cern, a greater consciousness of the personal element in the affairs of the house, a greater consonance between the individual's own approach to life since his personality enters more fully into the determination of group atti-tudes, a greater sense of the interdependence of the persons in the com-munity in all its affairs---especially because they answer directly to and for each other. In the larger group some degree of personalism is lost as the sheer force of numbers demands some degree of abstraction and the substi- Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 tution of shared symbols that can be immediately present to all when the person-to-person common search for common understanding is not practi-cal, The sense of interdependence is therefore "once removed" with the result that the individual who has to expend less of herself in contributing to and in conforming to more general ideas is then .freer to develop inde-pendently of the group in more areas. Not only is there in larger groups more room for individualism to fluorish and a greater variety of personality types emerging (assuming of course the absence of any rigorous pressure to conform in all respects), but this sharper differentiation among component personalities enables stronger, more particularized dyadic relationships to de-velop out of the shared responses. Hence, we see the application of Simmel's principle that the quantitative increase in size of a group leads to a qualitative differentiation ~on the part of the individuals.8 Simmel holds that an individual tends to maintain a certain balance between the social and the individual aspects of his life. When he is involvi~d in a small group with a high profile for cohesiveness or for strong identity as a group, he has little opportunity to express his own individuality--and little need to do so since there is satisfaction offered in the group. But when he is involved in a larger group with a less ~iell-defined profile, °one that is less consonant with his unique personality since it is necessarily more generalized, he then finds scope--indeed he must--to express his individuality. As the group gains in individuality ~(a situation that pertains to small groups), the individual loses and vice versa. The Question of Friendship Sister Joan Michele believes that wherever the "corporate mentality" is strong among religious--that is, a tendency to look on the group life as an exercise in efficiency--it will be more difficult for 'real friendships to grow. If friendship is ". an encounter between two persons. [which] results in an enduring nonexclusive relation which is lived as a gift of affinity and affection and occasions the autonomous growth of the persons involved,''~ it can only flourish where there is a real encounter of unique personalities --personalities well-developed, mature, sharing a common ground in .their search for truth, and coming, as it were, by chance upoh an unconscious, mysterious affinity that raises comrades, colleagues, and companions. above those levels of association to a new plane that is by no means the necessary consequence of living in community. Precisely what dynamics are generated by the presence of more or fewer dyadic relationships could not be explored in this project since the identity of "good friends" was not revealed; but it has been necessary to digress into these areas ever so slightly, simply to make the point that the cfn-~ 8Wolff, The Sociology o! Simmel, p. 87. '~Rake, Friendship, p. 52. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious / 43 clusions reached in this research are quite validly and integrally consistent with the general direction of small group theory. Yet there is real danger that they may lend themselves to simplistic interpretations that do not con-vey the whole picture. The research has confirmed the theory that (1) community size does have a significant effect on the number of members with whom one can have good, positive relationships---both the absolute number and the proportionate number of members; and that (2) the smaller size communities are the ones that exhibit these good, posi-tive relationships more frequently. Equally important, however, are the findings resulting from the question on friendship; namely, the members living in larger groups tend to report both a greater number of "good friends" and to consider a greater proportion of members of the com-munity in the category of "good friends." The above statement when coupled with the theory of writers like Van Kaam, Sister Joan Michele, and even classical authors such as Simmel indi-cates there are ways in which the more cohesive small groups are at the same time more restricted in opportunities for developing friendship and that friendship might actually exist as an alternative to cohesiveness, not as a concomitant element. Practical Conclusions Taking a step beyond the scientifically validated conclusions of the study itself and addressing the practical value of all this for the present-day religious community, there are perhaps two major points to be considered. The first point of practical concern for religious is the importance of the absence of isolates from the communities studied and the commentary this is on the ability of religious who share the overall goals of the religious institute to assimilate members into a community even when religious have no voice in choosing where or with whom they will live. Though this point cannot be pushed beyond the limits mentioned earlier, it can be cited as evidence that the freedom in assigning personnel that has been a plus factor enabling religious groups to function efficiently in the apostolate is not in and of itself incompatible with the desire to provide living condi-tions that foster good interpersonal relationships. The second point to be made is that decisions regarding community size (where circumstances allow for either possibility) might reasonably be made in favor of smaller community groups at a time when the call to re-newal emphasizes our need to search together for a more radical commit-ment to the essence of religious life. If sociologists and psychologists are correct in their assessment of the differential in ability of various size groups to reach consensus at various levels of abstraction, certainly religious would do well to make use of this knowledge in their efforts to re-create 44 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 in the Spirit the shared faith that brought their institutes into being. Further-more, if the members of congregations are appraised of what can and cannot be achieved in groups of various sizes, realistic expectations can constitute solid foundations auguring well for solid progress. Structures of themselves will never cure. But they can facilitate if used wisely, and they can hinder if used poorly or ignored. Size is not of itself a panacea, nor a Pandora's box. Perhaps we have mistakenly held in the past that the same quality of religious life can exist with six or sixty in the community. As we eschew past folly, let us not perpetuate new foolishness by assuming that small size will do more than facilitate the emergence of a faith sharing which will depend for its quality, not on numbers but on the grace of God realized in the lives of those who grow together toward the fulfillment of their covenant with both God and His People. The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities John Allyn Melloh, S.M. Father John Allyn Melloh, S.M., a member of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, lives at the Marianist Residence; 4528 Maryland Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. The Liturgy of the Hours should not be looked on as a beautiful monument of a past age, to be preserved almost unchanged in order to excite our admira-tion. On the contrary, it should come to life again with new meaning and grow to become once more the sign of a living community.--The General Instruc-tion on the Liturgy of the Hours, paragraph 273 Reform, renewal, restoration of the liturgy is always one of the paramount concerns of any ecumenical council; Vatican II was no exception. Desirous of "imparting an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 1), the Council fathers placed liturgical reform top on the list of their priorities. If the liturgical celebrations of the People of God were to be a "foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the holy city of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 8), then much renewal was needed, lest the pilgrim people of Yahweh seek a new city-~one where celebration was indeed a reality! Restoration of Eucharistic praxis, as well as an updating of other sacra-mental ritual celebrations, was essential for the nourishment of Christian piety and the mediation of the salvific graces to all mankind (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 1 !). Equally important for the liturgical life of the ekklesia was the restoration of the Divine Office, the Liturgy of the Hours, the "public prayer of the Church" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 90). In the age of aggiornamento, this "wonderful song 45 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 of praise" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 84), which had all but entirely disappeared, had to be revived; and a genuine "revival" was needed for the "voice of the bride addressed to her bridegroom" (Constitu-tion on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 83) had become mute. This "very prayer which Christ himself, together with his body, addresses to the Father," had become, over the ages, a prayer which Christ, along with a few isolated members--becoming fewer day by day--of His Church addressed to the Father. The opus Dei had become the onus Dei.t General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours Almost ten years later, in February 1971, the Sacred Congregation of Divine Worship issued the General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours. In five chapters, full of good solid Christology, ecclesiology, and spirituality, this document speaks of the Liturgy of the Hours as a viable prayer form for the Church--even in 1973! Perhaps one of the most significant Roman documents issued of late, and certainly the longest and most theological document ever issued on the topic of the Divine Office, the General Instruc-tion makes clear that the intent is the restoration and revitalization of the Liturgy of the Hours. The "ptiblic and communal prayer of the people of God is rightly considered among the first duties of the Church" (General Instruction, paragraph 1), for the ekklesia is most itself, achieves its own special identity, and fulfills its mission when the assembly is together at prayer, especially at liturgical prayer. Vatican II has consciously and firmly asked that~the Liturgy of the Hours once again be prayed, that this prayer form once again be given life by the living People of God--that it may become a living prayer and that the entire Church may "offer praise to God . . . in singing that canticle of praise which is sung throughout all ages in the halls of heaven" (General Instruction, paragraph 16). The New Book of the Liturgy of the Hours A day to be hailed in litui'gical circles was 23 June, 1971, for on that day, L'osservatore romano published Laudis canticum, officially promulgat-ing the new book of the Liturgy of the Hours. The work of Vatican II and its liturgical commission had borne fruit. The new edition of that book once called the "Breviary" had been arranged and prepared in such a way as to encourage the faithful to celebrate the hours. Once again, this necessary complement to Eucharistic worship and sacramental practice was restored so that it would become "the prayer of the whole people of God" (Laudis canticum, L'osservatore romano, page 1 ). At least now there was a chance that should one of the faithful stumble across the Prayer of Christians he might recognize it! In the new edition--albeit interim--of the Liturgy of the Hours genuine reforms were made. Structure of the hours was modified, the cycle of Psalmody changed, intercessor3/prayer introduced--all with a view to pub- The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities / 47 lic celebration of the Hours of Prayer. In its restored form, the Divine Office was to be a "font of piety and nourishment for personal prayer" (Laudis canticum, L'osservatore romano, page 1 ). Toward a Revitalized Celebration The documents of Vatican II, the General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours, Laudis canticum--all ask that the prayer of Christ be con-tinued by the members of His Body; earnestly they request that this prayer of Jesus be continued in the revitalized celebration of the Liturgy of the Hour's. It is in our spatio-temporal matrix that groups of praying men and women can continue this prayer of the Lord who lives ever making inter-cession for us (Heb 7:25). Communal prayer will once again take root in the Church at large, replacing, in part, private prayer, especially that form of private recitation of the Office which is a liturgical anomaly. Once again the Church-united may celebrate the prayer of the Hours "to give Him glorious praise" (Ps 66:2). The General Instruction on the Litu.rgy of the Hours, despite the wealth of genuine theological principles and very fine material for meditative re-flection, is rather weak in detailing how the Liturgy of the Hours may "be celebrated in communities--"celebrated" as opposed to "recited," "said," or "read." In the following pages, it is my intent to ,describe how the Liturgy of the Hours is celebrated in our Marianist community in St.Louis, Missouri; likewise, since Evensong was celebrated each evening at St. Mary's University in San Antonio, Texas, during the. 1973 summer session, using the same format of celebration, I would like to include comments from those who participated in those liturgical celebrations. Morning Praise Matins consecrates to God the first movements of our minds and hearts; no other care should engage us before we have been moved with the thought of God, as it is written, "I thought of God and sighed" (Ps 76:4), nor should the body undertake any work before we have done what is said, "I say this prayer to you, Lord, for at daybreak you listen for my voice; and at dawn I hold myself in readiness for you, I watch for you" (Ps 5:4-5).--The General Instruction on the Liturgy o] the Hours, paragraph 38; quotation from St. Basil Morning itself conveys the notion of rebirth and renewal; the gift of God--a new day to be lived out in Christ--stirs the soul of the Christian to prais.e and to supplicationl The character of the Morning Office quite naturally becomes an act of dedication, of preparation, of offering the first fruits of the day's labor to the Lord, in the hope that the entire day will be pleasing in His sight. As Morning Praise is celebrated in our community, a vested celebrant enters the chapel and greets the community after reverencing the altar. A Morning Hymn is sung; this hymn thematically recalls the symbol of God who is light (1 Jn 1:5) and of Christ who is the Sun of Justice (Mal 4:2). Review for Religious, I"olume 33, 1974/1 Praise and thanksgiving for light--both natural and supernatural-colors the sung praise of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. A redeemed people, brought from darkness to the kingdom of God's beloved Son (Col l:13), from darkness of idolatry to the light of the Gospel, we praise our God for crea-tion, for redemption--for the light of day and the light of Christ. A brief penitential rite--an offering of incense--follows the hymn. During the incensation of the standing community, Psalm 51 or 63 is sung. St. Basil explains: "When day is breaking, all together, as from one heart, sing the Psalm of confession [Ps 51] to the Lord, each one making his own these words of repentance." John Chrysostom points out that Psalm 63, an ardent cry of longing for the Lord, is also a Psalm of purification, giving voice to the Christian's awareness of his weakness and need for the loving mercy of the Lord. A collect concludes this brief prayer for purification and readies the community for the celebration of the Word of God. The community is seated during the singing of the morning Psalmody. Psalms of praise, especially the traditional morning Psalms 148 through 150, are used. Ordinarily, only one Psalm is sung and the usual mode of singing is responsorial. Psalms are chosen according to themes well suited for a morning prayer. A significant pause for silent prayer follows the singing of the Psalmody. An appropriate Psalter collect, stressing praise of the beneficent God, concludes the sung Psalmody. An adequate rhythm of community prayer is enhanced through the use of lectio continua in Morning Praise. Especially appropriate are Old Testa-ment selections; since the Epistles and Gospels are proclaimed during the celebration of Evensong or the Eucharist. The choice of readings varies with the Church year. After a period of silence of several minutes, all stand for the singing of the Gospel Canticle of Zachary, which accompanies the offering of incense. As a symbol of intercessory prayer "going up" in the Lord's sight (Rev 8:3-4)--a survival of the Temple usages described in Exodus 29 and 30-- the offering of incense is made at the altar, which is then incensed. Intercessory prayer is generally a brief morning litany which concen-trates on themes of renewal, dedication for the work of the day, prayer for God's continual blessing throughout the day. Usually the prayer is sung; and on penitential days the community kneels for this prayer, which is con-cluded by an appropriate collect. The Lord's Prayer, which Tertullian has called the "epitome of the Gospel itself," that eschatological prayer which stresses the primacy of the kingdom and the life of those living in it, can be considered the climax of the Office. The prayer is always sung and the congregation prays it in the usual orans position. A blessing concludes the Morning Office--the prayer of praise of God, of thanksgiving for creation and redemption, and of ardent desire for the life of the Kingdom. The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities / 49 Evensong Our fathers did not think it right to receive the blessing of evening light in silence. Rather, the moment it appeared, they would praise and thank God for it.--St. Basil, Treatise on the Holy Spirit As day is drawing to a close and the evening is upon us, the Christian community gathers to give thanks "for what has been given us during the day, or for the things we have done well during it" (St. Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, Resp. 37, 3; PG 31, 1015). With an evening light service, the celebration of Evensong commences. To the proclamation: Jesus Christ is the Light of the world! intoned by a vested deacon, the congregation responds: A Light that no darkness can extinguish! During the ceremonial illumination of the church, the lighting of the candles and the lighting of the chapel lights, an evening hymn is sung. Ordinarily the Phos Hilaron is sung in one of its several settings, or another appropriate evening hymn, stressing the theme of Christ our Light, is sung. A diaconal proclamation, an act of thanksgiving for the blessings of light and an act of praise of God, concludes the light service. An evening act of contrition, an offering of incense, follows; and Psalm 141, "The Psalm at the kindling of lights," accompanies the liberal incensa-tion of the community. This offering of incense, an atonement symbol (Num 17:11-3), is a purificatory action. It should help the Christian com-munity recall the "sweet odor of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor 2:14-6) and be a symbol expressive of that saving blood of the Lamb who ever lives to make intercession for us (Heb 7:25). An appropriate Psalter collect is a conclu-sion to this ritual action. Evening Psalmody is sung responsorially. Ordinarily only one Psalm, in addition to Psalm 141, is sung in the evening. Evening themes of thanks-giving for the blessings of the day and repentance for inevitable daily failings can be found in the Psalter. Such Psalms are appropriate for the evening Office. A period of meditative silence of significant length follows the sing-ing, and this period of prayer is concluded with the praying of a collect. The reading from Scripture is taken from the cycle of readings in the new lectionary. Customarily, Epistle and/or Gospel readings are used in the evening. A homily is preached when Evensong is celebrated immediately preceding the community evening dinner. The period of meditative silence is broken by the singing of the Gospel Canticle of the Virgin Mary which accompanies the offering of incense. In line with the use of incense as a symbol of intercessory prayer, the altar is honored with incense to affirm our belief and real participation in the com-munion of saints (Rev 8:3-4). Gospel Canticles, reverenced as the good news of salvation, are always sung standing. A fundamental part of Christian prayer, intercession for the universal needs of the Church and the world, is offered, following the urgings of Paul (1 Tim 2:1-4). The traditional Byzantine Litany of Peace is often 50 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 sung as one form of intercessory prayer. Other litanies are also used. One of the most famous and popular of the Eastern hymns is the Tri-sagion, which came into wide usage after the Council of Chalcedon in the fifth century. A hymn of Trinitarian praise and thanksgiving as used with the doxology, it is a fitting introduction to the prayer given us by Jesus. It is essentially of the same prayer style of praise and thanksgiving as we find in the prayer given by Jesus and as such it is a beautiful sung introduc-tion. Expressing an ardent desire for the coming of the kingdom and a solemn plea for the forgiveness of sin and genuine fraternal reconciliation, the Lord's Prayer is a most fitting conclusion to the Christian Office. A solemn blessing, most often tripartite in form, is the dismissal of the community, an invocation of the power of God upon the assembly and a petition for the mercy and loving kindness of the Almighty Lord in whose name we have gathered. At times, the Kiss of Peace is exchanged at the conclusion of Evensong, as a symbol of the peace of the kingdom, that peace which alone can be given by the Lord of that dominion. ' Resurrection Vigil of the Lord's Day Come,O faithful: let us drink a new drink, produced miraculously not from a barren rock, but springing from the tomb which is a fountain of immortality: the tomb of Christ by which we are strengthened. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Today the whole creation, he~iven and earth and the deepest abysses of the earth are filled with joy. Let the whole universe celebrate the resurrection by which we are strengthened. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Yesterday I was buried with You, O Christ! Today I rise with You in your resurrection. Yesterday I was crucified with you: glorify me with you in your kingdom. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Christ is risen from the dead! He has crushed death by his death and bestowed life upon those who lay in the tomb. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Jesus is risen indeed, as He had foretold: He has given us eternal life and abundant mercy.--Third Ode, Easter Canon of John of Damascus Byzantine Daily Worship, Easter Sunday, page 849 These words contain the spirit of unrestrained joy of the Christian who encounters the Paschal Mystery of the Lord Jesus. The sense of triumph, of joy, of exultation, and of hope permeate this entire text. While the vigil of the Easter celebration of the resurrection is truly "Mother of all Vigils," nevertheless a weekly commemoration of the Pascha of the Lord is in the mainline tradition of the Church. The celebration of the Resurrection vigil of the Lord's Day, which takes place at eleven o'clock Saturday evening, is a wonderful preparation for the Eucharistic Banquet of the Lord's Day. It is a rich and deep experi-ence of the mystery of the passion, death, and resurrection of our Lord and The Liturgy o] the Hours in Religious Communities / 51 Savior Jesus Christ, celebrated communally with hymnody, Psalmody, and readings. The Night Watch, that time when we gather as a community, to recall the resurrection of Jesus and to pray for His glorious return, is a service of the Word celebrated with grandeur. The chapel is in darkness awaiting the appearance of the New Light. A vested presbyter and vested deacon enter, bearing the lighted Paschal Candle. The diaconal proclamation of Christ as the Light of the World begins the celebration, and the ceremonial illumina-tion of the church is accompanied by the singing of the Phos Hilaron. A Byzantine setting of Radiant Light, arranged for three-part singing, is a magnificent hymn of light praising Father,' Son, and Holy Spirit. The Paschal Candle is honored with incense during the singing. The deacon sings Hip-polytus' Easter Hymn or the Paschal Praeconium, giving voice to the joyful thanksgiving of the Christian assembly. The singing of Psalm 141, with its accompanying offering of incense, is polyphonic. While this ritual action is an evening act of contrition, it is nevertheless a joy-filled, because confident, plea for the loving kindness of the Lord who always awaits with eagerness the return of those who have been unfaithful. Concluding this action of repentance is an appropriate collect. At times the singing of Psalm 141 is omitted in favor of using a differ-ent Psalm, one with Paschal overtones. The second Psalm, sung respon-sorially, takes on a Paschal character through the use of alleluia antiphons. The great cry "Alleluia" re-echoes in the hearts of those who have experi-enced the risen Lord and Psalms of praise express the gratitude of the as-sembly for the Great Passage of the Lord. One of the charismatic speeches recorded in Acts with a sung respon-sorial Psalm or an appropriate patristic reading is the First Lesson, followed by a distinct pause for reflection on and assimilation of the text. The Gospel Alleluia is intoned as the Book of Gbspels is incensed. The account of the Resurrection is sung by the d

Issue 34.4 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boulevard: St. Lot, is, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right @ 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A; Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor July 1975 Volume 34 Number 4 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humbuldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church Leonel L. Mitchell Leonel L. Mitchell, whose most. recent publication is: Liturgical Change: How Much Do We Need? (Crossroad Books, 1975), is an Episcopal priest and Assistant Professor, Department of Theology; University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. It is the intention of this paper to treat the topic of the ordination of women quite narrowly. It will not deal with the general question of the biblical, historical, and theological considerations involved in the ordination of women to the priesthood, but will attempt the more modest task of reporting the con-temporary debate as it exists in the Episcopal Church. This debate has two related but distinct foci: (1) the desirability of amending the canon law of the Episcopal Church so as to permit the ordination of women to the priesthood, and (2) the "ordination" last year of 11 women to the priesthood by three bishops without diocesan jurisdiction in violation of the presently existing canons. There are many in the Episcopal Church who strongly favor the or-dination of women, but condemn the action th~it was taken in Philadelphia on July 29, 1974. ". The 1973 Canterbury Statement of the Anglican-Roman Catholic Inter-naiional Commission ( A R CI C ) entitled "Ministry and Ordination" detailed in 16 headings a common statement of Anglica.n and Roman Catholic understand-ing of the meaning of "ordination in the apostolic succession." A few quotations from this statement should make clear what ministry it is to which women seek ordination in the Episcopal Church, and why this debate is of con-cern to Roman Catholics: Despite the fact that in the New Testament minisiers are never called 'priests' (hiereis), Christians came to see the priestly role of Christ reflected in these ministers and used priestly terms in describing them . Not only do [Christian ministers] share through baptism in the priesthood of the people of God, but they are--particularly in presiding at 51~. / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 the Eucharist--representative of the whole Church in the fulfillment of its priestly voca-tion of self-offering to God as a living sacrifice (Rom 12:1) Nevertheless their ministry is not an extension of the common Christian priesthood but belongs to another realm of the gifts of the Spirit. (Par. 13) Ordination denotes entry into this apostolic and God-given ministry, which serves and signifies the unity of the local churches in themselves and with one another. Every in-dividual act of ordination is therefore an expression of the continuing apostolicity and catholicity of the whole Church. (Par. 14) What is involved, then, in the Anglican discussion is not whether women are full members of the Body of Christ and share in the priesthood of the Church, nor is the question one of their suitability to serve as Christian ministers. Women can and do serve in non-sacerdotal ministries in the Episcopal Church. The question is solely whether women can (not should) be ordained to the ministerial priesthood and serve as presidents of the Eucharistic assembly. I do not believe that arguments based on the inexpediency of ordaining women deserve serious consideration. It will always be inexpedient to do something we do not wish to see done. If women can be priests, then what but masculine prejudice prevents them from being so ordained? The question then turns on the hinge of "Are women proper subjects for the sacrament of priestly ordination?" Anglicans do not usually formulate the question in this way, but it is what they mean. Unlike the Roman Catholic Church, the Episcopal Church permits the or-dination of women to the diaconate. In 1862 the Bishop of London revived the order of deaconess in the Church of England by ordaining a woman by "im-position of hands." In 1885 the first such ordination was performed in the United States by the Bishop of Alabama, and in 1889 the American Episcopal Church regulated what it called the "setting apart" of deaconesses by ap-propriate canons. By setting up separate regulations for deacons and deaconesses, however, the canons raised the question of whether deaconesses were deacons, or ministers of some other sort. They did not wear stoles, nor assist in ministering Communion. In remote mission areas without a priest, deaconesses often led prayer ser~iices, officiated at Matins and Evensong, and conducted baptisms and funerals, but in ordinary parishes they served as sacristans, parish visitors, and directors of Christian education. They were, in fact, considered by many priests to be, as it were, "secular nuns" who could do useful things around the church. The fact that the diaconate itself was not well understood did not help to clarify the role of the deaconess. The apostolicity of the order of deacon has been continuously asserted by the Anglican Church, but in fact, deacons who are not fledgling priests have been almost totally unknown since the 16th cen-tury. The.revival of the "perpetual diaconate" for men in the period following World War II has produced a revival of interest in the diaconal ministry, and a beginning of the study of the diaconate as a ministry in its own right, not as a rung on the ladder of ecclesiastical preferment. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church In the Episcopal Church the question of the status of deaconesses was forcefully raised by the late Bishop James A. Pike, who (whatever his failings) was never afraid of a good fight. In 1965 he declared on his own authority as Bishop of California that deaconesses were women deacons, and proceeded to act on that assumption by recognizing Deaconess Phyllis Edwards of his diocese as a deacon. In a ceremony at Grace Cathedral, San Francisco~ he in-vested her with the deacon's stole and presented her with the New Testament from which she read the eucharistic gospel. She also assisted in the ministra-tion of communion in the manner usual for Anglican deacons, by ad-ministering the chalice. The lawyer-bishop was careful to explain that the ser-vice was not an ordination, since, in his view, Deaconess Edwards had already been ordained a deacon when she was "set apart" as a deaconess. Since most Episcopalians had never given any thought to the subject of the ordination of deacons of either sex, they were horrified. The bishops reacted (as Anglican bishops frequently do) by appointing a study commission to report on "The Proper Place of Women in the Ministry of the Church." At about the same time in England a similar report, entitled "Women in Holy Orders," was presented to the Archbishops of Canterbury and York. In 1968 the Lambeth Conference, the decennial meeting of Anglican bishops from all over the world, accepted the principle that deaconesses were "within the diaconate" and referred the question of the ordination of women to the priesthood to the various national churches or provinces, for further study. In 1969 the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, meeting at the University of Notre Dame, amended its canons to permit women for the first time to be licensed as lay readers and to administer the chalice. The 1970 Convention formally endorsed the position that deaconesses were women deacons and amended the canons to that effect. From 1970 on, therefore, men and women have been ordaindd to the diaconate in the Episcopal Church under the same set of regulations, by the same rite, and clearly to the same office. There was, of course, one important difference. Male deacons were either candidates for the priesthood, or they intended to combine service as a "perpetual" deacon with another occupation from which they expected to derive their income. The women, on the other hand, were go-ing into full-time professional ministry, like most of the men with whom they had graduated from seminary. Few of them saw their vocation as being to the "perpetual" diaconate, but the possibility of ordination to the priesthood was denied them. In 1971 the Bishop of Hong Kong and Macao, acting after consultation with his diocese and the Bishops of South East Asia, ordained two women to the priesthood. The previous bishop had pe~'formed a similar ordination in 1944, during World War II, but the Archbishop of Canterbury had formally refused to recognize the ordination, and the woman ordained, ki Tim Oi, renounced her orders for the peace of the ChurCh. This time the Anglican Con-sultative Council (which is a secretariat rather than a decision-making synod) interpreted the resolutions of Lambeth 1968 to permit him to act: ~i14 / Review for Religious, l~olume 34, 1975/4 This Council advises the Bishop of Hong Kong, acting with the approval of his Synod, and any other bishop of the Anglican Communion acting.with the approval of his Province, that, if he decides to ordain women to the priesthood, his action will be accept-able to this Council. (Resolution 28, Anglican Consultative Council, Limuru, Kenya, 23 February-5 March 1971) The resolution carried the Council 24-22, and it was on the strength of this ap-proval that Bishop Baker p~:oceeded with the ordinations. In that same year the American bishops were asked to endorse the princi-ple of the ordination of women to the priesthood and the episcopate, and to prepare legislation for that purpose. The resolution was presented by the Bishops' Committee on Ministry. The House of Bishops (in customary fashion) appointed a study committee of seven bishops. This was the second study commission of the American bishops on the ministry of women in l0 years. The complaint of women that the question has been sufficiently studied would seem to be justified. The report was presented to the bishops in 1972. A straw vote was then taken on the question of the ordination of women to the priesthood. This was a simple expi'ession of personal opinion, not a legislative vote. The bishops voted 74-61 in favor of admitting women to the priesthood. This is the approval of the bishops so often mentioned in the debate since. The report itself exhibits an internal schizophrenia, including two different versions of a section on "Scripture, Tradition, and Images," one favoring the ordination of women, the other opposing it. It was distributed, not only to the bishops but to all priests and other interested persons, in mimeographed form, and was later printed in the 1973 Convention Journal. It begins with the assertion that the Church admits both men and women to the diaconate, and cites New Testament precedents (Romans 16:i, Acts 9:36, I Tim 3:8-13) and the opinion of C. H. Dodd: We may fairly suppose that the order of deacons which emerged in the second century. had its origin in Paul's own time; and that it included women as well as men. (Dodd, C. H., The Epistle of Paul to the Romans, p. 235) The report describes the contemporary understanding of the diaconate as ':murky and confused" and calls for a fresh statement of the meaning of the diaconal ministry. It is interesting that the acceptance of women as deacons is not considered controversial by the bishops, but is the assumed starting ground for further discussion. Certainly no such consensus could have been obtained in 1965. Turning from the diaconate to the priesthood, the report describes the or-dained priest as "called of God and authorized by the body" to act for both the Lord and his Church "in ways far beyond our understanding." It asserts: His priesthood is not derived from the Church nor has anyone a right to claim priesthood; the priest is called to receive a gift in ordination, which comes from the Father. But his call and the gift are alike recognized and ratified by the Church; he acts for them in exer-cising the gift. Thus the authority and accountability conferred in ordination have a dou-ble reference. No man exercises priesthood in a vacuum. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church / 515 When it considers the possibility of the ordination of women to the episcopate, the report confronts the question directly: In the case of episcopacy, as in that of priesthood, the suggestion of a duality of repre-sentative roles raised in some of our minds the question as to the significance of male-hess as a necessary attribute or characteristic of the Bishop. Perhaps even more than the priest, the episcopal Father-in-God imagery is that of a male figure and none of us doubts the extraordinary tensions and problems which would confront the Church were women to be chosen to be bishops. But the question remains, in some of our minds, whether it can be said that female-ness is a diriment impediment to their consecration as bishops. I believe that this puts the question in proper terms. It is not a matter of whether one thinks a specific woman would or would not make a good priest. That is a pastoral question to be answered by those specifically charged with approving candidates for ordination. Some women, like some men, would make unbelievably bad priests. If this is true of some of the 11 women or-dained in Philadelphia in July 1974, it is demonstrably true of many of the already ordained male priests in the Episcopal Church, and, 1 assume, in other churches as well. The report then proceedes to two sections upon which the committee was divided. In the first it presents arguments again~st the ordination of women, and in the second it presents arguments for it. Most of the debate on the sub-ject in the Episcopal Church has been simple and straightforward. Opponents of the ordination of women have said that there is no support for it in Scripture or Tradition, that the Church has never ordained women, and to do so now would be stark novelty, and therefore both uncatholic and heretical, its ad-vocates have countered that there is nothing in Scriiature to forbid it, that there is no a priori theological reason for not doing it, and that the mere fact that it has never been done is no argument at all. They point out that to argue simply on the basis of contrary practice is to commit the Church to the view that change is either impossible or wrong--a doctrine which all admit has been widely believed, but which deserves to be relegated to oblivion--and which is demonstrably untrue in such cases as the Church's attitude toward slavery. A great deal of the literature which supports the ordination of women has argued with undeniable truthfulness that much of the opposition of male priests to the ordination of women stems from the men's insecurity in their own sexual and ministerial roles. Itis undoubtedly also true that at least some of the women seeking ordinat.ion have comparable problems, but neither point seems worthy of serious consideration, and the bishops' report does not raise it. It is, of course, theoretically possible to argue that although all of the people actually opposing the ordination of women are doing so from unworthy motives, the position itself is true. It is likewise possible to argue that although none of the candidates actually presenting themselves should be ordained, it is proper to ordain women. More concretely, it is hardly reasonable of the Church for it to set up a system in which all but the most stout-hearted will become discouraged long before they are actually accepted as candidates for ordination, and then complain about the lack of humility and modesty of the 511~ / Review for Religious, l/olurne 34, 1975/4 survivors. The principle of abusus non tollit usum needs to be applied with great rigidity here. The section of the bishops' report which opposes the ordination of women to the priesthood may be taken as representative of the best argumentation on this side in the Episcopal Church. The "prominent and honored place" of women in the ministry of the New Testament and the Early Church is freely admitted. Phoebe is recognized as a deacon, Dorcas as a "disciple," the daughters of Philip as prophets, and others as teachers and evangelists. It further affirms that women have an honored place in the ministry today, but that place is not in the presbyterate. It permits, even urges, the ordination of women to the diaconate, and condemns the failure of the contemporary Church, including that of many priests and bishops, to understand the meaning of the diaconate as ari order separate from, but not subordinate to the presbyterate. It makes a sharp distinction between the priesthood which is shared by all Christians, men and women alike, as full members of the community, and ad-mission to the cultic ministry: To belong to the cultic ministry is no part of the perfection of Christian membership in Christ. That the Church has acted as if it were, and as if lay-people were second class Christians is only too true. It is only too true that lay women have been excluded from the decision making processes of the Church; this is one of the causes of their present anger and frustration. But we cannot right this wrong by committing another. The actual arguments raised against the ordination of women to the priesthood appear to be two, one symbolic and one historical. The symbolic argument is summed up in the conclusion: The ordained Christian priest must act officially in the person of Christ, and male-ness is therefore required for a priest to act in this way. A woman priest, it is claimed "must lack the full symbolic meaning of Chris-tian priesthood, and to that extent must be defective." Masculinity and male-ness are seen as symbolizing the initiating creative and recreative act of God toward mankind, an act transcending nature, and constitutive of the Church. The historical argument is that, although women exercised a multitude of ministries in the early Church, there were no women presbyters or bishops. On the evidence, to admit women as Bish'ops and Priests is to overturn the practice of the New Testament Church, and the Catholic Church ever since. It considers that some evidence of an unmistakeable intervention of the Holy Spirit "such as we find in Acts" would be necessary for so momentous a change, and rejects the idea that the fact that some women genuinely believe themselves called to the priesthood is evidence of such an intervention. It has always been the duty of the Church to tell a man whether or not he has a true voca-tion to the priesthood, and the Church has this task today. If the Church says no to these aspirants, it would seem proper to assume that their question has been answered by the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church This section of the report concludes: This momentous step must not be taken by a small branch of a particular Catholic Church on its own initiative, without reference to the remainder of catholic Christendom, and, 1 am sure, against the convictions and sentiments of a majority of its members. The appeal to the consensus fidelium of the Catholic Church of the ages strikes strong responsive chords in most Anglican hearts, and their concern for the effect of any unilateral action on the Anglican-Roman Catholic or the Anglican-Orthodox dialogue is genuine. The section of the report defending the ordination of women compares it with the adoption of the Canon of Holy Scripture or the development of the threefold ministry as "legitimate developments of what was implicit in the revelation of Christ from the beginning." It makes extensive use of the article "Biblical Anthropology and the Par-ticipation of Women in the Ministry of the Church" by Professor Andr6 Dumas of the Protestant Faculty of Theology in Paris, which was published in 1964 in Concerning the Ordination of Women. a report of the World Council of Churches. This article contrasts the Jahwist account of the creation and fall in Genesis 2:4-3;24 with the Priestly account in Genesis 1, in which man and woman are both made in the image of God and given joint authority over crea-tion. According to Dumas, the only theologically significant reason for the ex-clusion of women from the Old Testament priesthood was the belief that woman's true vocation was to be a mother in order to perpetuate Israel until the coming of the Messiah. This, he says, Christianity specifically rejected as anti-Messianic. There is, he points out, nothing in the New Testament about motherhood as a sacred vocation, since that vocation has been fulfilled by the motherhood of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The report admits the power of the male imagery applied to priests, but comments: Its power is derived from deep springs in the human spirit and from important forces in our culture and his.tory. Insofar as it reflects truths about masculinity and femininity it can be a significant instrument in our grappling with reality. Its limitations lie, of course, in the fact that there is no analogy in Deity to such imagery, no way t6 identify in Deity the anguish and the beauty inescapably part of the man-woman differentiation in humanity. The overwhelming tradition of the Church against the ordination of women is freely admitted, but declared to be irrelevant. The profound changes in the roles of men and women in society, it feels, ~eans that any decision in-volves change: The problem for Christians is not how to get back to what was, but to bear witness in the midst of what is; and even the choice to stay where we are, if we make it, will be the choice of a new position which has got to be mai:le in the presence of real people, not ghostly memories. The report notes that thep0sition of other Churches is also changing, and the effect of permitting the ordination of women on the ecumenical scene may 51~! / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/4 as easily be positive as negative. It also points out that popular opinion, and the spirit of "women's lib" are not valid considerations, but the Church must deal solely with the question "Is God now calling women to Priesthood?" If the answer is yes, the Church must respond, whatever the cost, and if it is no, the Church must also take the consequences of that decision. The final section of the report raises a number of questions, on the answers to which the committee was presumably divided: Is it not true that Christ's priesthood is too comprehensive to be contained by the sym-bolism of one sex, that in fact its variety and d.epth call for full sacramental feminine ex-pression in order to represent a God who sustains both masculinity and femininity? If this is true, might we not be on the threshold of a new dimension and awareness of the un-searchable riches of Christ? Far from confusing sexual roles or affirming "unwise" values, might not the ordination of women assure the enrichment of our understanding of humanity in Christ by guaranteeing the presence of both its components visibly present in the offering of the Oblation which is Christ's and ours? Like many discussions of synods of bishops, the report ends with no recommendations, except to "meet the issue head on." The bishops concluded their discussion with the straw vote already mentioned. When the Anglican Consultative Council met in Dublin in July 1973, they reaffirmed their position that individual national or regional churches might proceed to ordain women, if they so decided according to their synodical processes. The vote in favor was 50-3, compared with the 24-22 vote in 1971. The next significant step in the process occurred when the General Conven-tion of the Episcopal Church met in Louisville in September-October 1973. Legislation. to change the canons to permit the ordination of women to the priesthood and the episcopate was introduced into the House of Deputies, and was there debated at length. The final vote fell short of the needed majority. Since this vote has been the subject of much subsequent controversy, it re-quires further elaboration. The General Convention is the legislative body of the Episcopal Church. It consists of bishops and clerical and lay deputies. The deputies are elected by diocesan synods, four priests and four lay persons from each diocese, regardless of size. On substantive matters the deputies vote by dioceses and orders and a majority is required in both orders for passage. The vote on the ordination of women was clericalmYes 50, No 43, Divided 20; Lay--Yes 49, No 37, Divided 26. The divided delegations were split 2-2 and therefore unable to vote either for or against the resolution. The result was that although the proposal had a plurality of votes, it did not receive the absolute majority re-quired. This situation is not a "fluke." The rule, like that requiring the ratification of amendments to the U.S. Constitution by three-quarters of the States, was written into the Constitution of the Episcopal Church to make it difficult to change basic items of Church structure, and to make it impossible for a bare majority to do so. The question of whether the majority of clergy and laity of the Episcopal Church actually favor the ordination of women to the priesthood is difficult to answer. Certainly many have made it abundantly clear that they will "leave Women Priests and the Episcopal Church / 519 the Church" if such action is taken. On the other hand, at least one bishop has promised to resign if the ordination of women is not permitted, and some women have indicated that they will withdraw from the Church if the ordina-tion of women is finally defeated. Since the resolution did not pass the House of Deputies in Louisville, it was neither debated nor voted upon by the bishops. "A Statement of Conviction concerning Ordination of Women'~ signed by 60 bishops was inserted into the minutes, on a point of personal privilege by the Bishop of Indianapolis. This was intended to encourage the women deacons, whose genuine disappointment in the failure of the Convention to authorize their ordination to the priesthood was recognized by all. I share the opinion of many of those present at the Louisville Convention that a number of those who voted against the ordination of women did so in the firm belief that the Church was not prepared for this step at that time. Their opposition was not absolute, but conditioned by the need to prepare the "folks back home" for such a radical change in practice. As the Anglican Con-sultative Council had phrased it in 1971: Anglicans have genuine difficulty in entertaining the idea that there might be women priests, and, lacking experience, they cannot forsee the consequences if any were to be or-dained. In the days following the defeat of the resolution by the Deputies, rumors spread through the Convention that some bishops intended to go ahead without authority and ordain one or more women. The House of Bishops, wishing to squelch these rumors, passed a resolution of collegiality and loyalty, pointing out that the Deputies had rejected the principle of the ordina-tion of women, and that the Presiding Bishop was appointing a "competent committee" to study the matter in depth. The resolution affirmed the adherence of the Bishops "to the principles of collegiality and mutual loyalty, as well as respect for due constitutional and canonical process." It was clearly the failure of four bishops to abide by this decision which caused the House of Bishops to react as it did to the July ordination in Philadelphia. They looked for a full discussion and decision in 1976 at the next General Convention. But the situation was not to remain static till then. On July 10, 1974, four bishops, all retired or otherwise without jurisdiction, met in Philadelphia, at the urging of a group of lay and clerical leaders, to con-sider the possibility of proceeding to ordain women to the priesthood. Bishop Charles Hall, retired of New Hampshire, withdrew after this first meeting. On July 20, the Rt. Rev. Lyman Ogilby, Bishop of Pennsylvania, in whose diocese the service was actually held, refused both his consent and his approval to the ordination. On July 25 the Most Rev. John Allin, the new Presiding Bishop, telegraphed the eleven women and three bishops, asking them to reconsider their decision. At this same time Bishop Ogilby notified his diocese that clergy who par-ticipated in the proposed ordination would be "conducting themselves in viola- 520 / Review for Religious, P'olume 34, 1975/4 tion of the Constitution and Canons of the Church," and would thereby be subjecting themselves tO possible discipline. He and the Diocesan Standing Committee also met personally with the Rt. Rev. Robert DeWitt, the former bishop of that diocese, and asked him to withdraw from the proposed ordina-tion. On July 29 the ordination took place. The ordaining bishops were the Rt. Rev. Robert DeWitt, formerly of Pennsylvania, the Rt. Rev. Edward Wells, Retired Bishop of West Missouri, and the Rt. Rev. Daniel Corrigan, formerly director of domestic mission work for the Episcopal Church and later dean of Bexley Hall Divinity School in Roches~ter, New York. The Bishop of Costa Rica, the Rt. Rev. Antonio Ramos, was present but did not participate in the ordainiiag. He was the only diocesan bishop in the group. On July 31 the Presiding Bishop called the House of Bishops into special session August 14-15 in Chicago to consider the situation. In the meanwhile, formal charges were filed against the participating bishops by the Bishop of Western New York. They were later withdrawn, then reinstated, and at the present writing are still pending. 146 bishops voted at tha~ meeting. They adopted this resolution by a vote of 129-9 with 8 abstentions: The House of Bishops in no way seeks to minimize the genuine anguish that so many in the Church feel at the refusal to date of the Church to grant authority for women to be considered as candidates for ordination to the priesthood and episcopacy. Each of us in his own way shares in that anguish. Neither do we question the sincerity of the motives of the four bishops and 11 deacons.who acted as they did in Philadelphia. Yet in God's work, ends and means must be consistent with one another. Furthermore, the wrong means to reach a desired end may expose the Church to serious consequences unforseen and undesired by anyone . Resolved, that the House of Bishops, having heard from Bishops Corrigan, DeWitt, Welles, and Ramos the reasons for their actions, express our disagreement with their decision and action. We believe they are wrong; we decry their acting in violation of the collegiality of the House of Bishops as well as the legislative processes of the whole Church. Further, we express our conviction that the necessary conditions for valid ordination to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church were not fulfilled on the occasion in question; since we are convinced that a bishop's authority to ordain can be effectively exercised only in and for a community which has authorized him to act for them, and as a member of the episcopal college; and since there was a failure to act in fulfillment of constitutional and canonical requirements for ordination. The resolution went on to call for the 1976 General Convention to recon-sider the issue of the ordinationof women, and for all involved to wait for that reconsideration. Apparently this is not going to happen. There have been several occasions on which various of the women have functioned as priests. The most publicized events were the celebration of the Eucharist at Riverside Church, and the ap-pointment of two of the women priests to the faculty of Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Mass., with the provision that they will function as priests in the seminary chapel. There are at least two cases being prosecuted Women Priests and the Episcopal Church / 521 against male priests, for allowing one or more of the women to celebrate or con-celebrate the Eucharist in their parishes. The truly important aspect of the Bishops' August statement is not their disapproval of the ordination. No one seriously expected them to approve the flaunting of canon law and their own resolution of collegiality. It is the ap-parent acceptance of Bishop Arthur Vogei's theological analysis of the ordina-tion, and the bishops' refusal to accept the "validity," not simply the "regularity" of the ordination. It is freely admitted on all sides that the ordina-tion was in violation of the actual canon law of the Episcopal Church on several counts: 1. There is no provision for ordaining women to the priesthood. 2. The women were ordained neither by their own ordinaries, nor with their consent. 3. The required canonical consent of the Diocesan Standing Committees was not obtained. Two of the candidates did attempt to obtain this consent, but it was refused. One diocese (Central New York) has granted it post fac-turn. (The Standing Committee is an invention of the American Episcopal Church in the 18th century which sought successfully to limit the arbitrary power of bishops by requiring the formal consent of a Standing Committee of priests and lay persons to all ordinations, sales of church property, and certain other acts.) Prior to voting on the motion, the Bishops received the report of their Committee on Theology, delivered by the Rt. Rev. Donald J. Parsons, Bishop of Quincy, and formerly Dean and Professor of New Testament at Nashotah House Seminary, and the Rt. Rev. Arthur Vogel, Bishop of West Missouri, a member of the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission and formerly Professor of Systematic Theology at Nashotah. The resolution adopted quotes verbatim from their reports. Bishop Vogel's view, expressed in his report, is that validity means "juridical recognition of a ministry by the Church." In this view to call a ministry "invalid" does not mean that it is not true, efficacious, or genuine, but simply that it is not juridically recognized. It is apparently this recognition which the House of Bishops denied the ordination of the women. My personal interest in this decision is that it shifts the ground of "accepted" Anglican theology from the old mhnual theology which calls sacraments valid if the criteria of proper matter, form, intention, minister and recipient are present, to a newer concept. There can be no doubt, in the old terms, that the ordaining bishops intended to ordain the women to the priesthood. They went out of their way to use the "right form," by using the official 1928 version of the ordination rite, rather than the commonly used provisional form of 1970. There has never been any dispute about the right of retired bishops to continue to exercise episcopal functions, and, in fact, many retired bishops have been the principal consecrators of their successors. The stand is taken by Bishop Vogel, and the House, instead, on the nature of the Church as a Eucharistic community, under the presidency of the Bishop. 522 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 The Holy Eucharist is offered by the whole community; the bishop unifies the action of the community by his presidency of the assembly. The bishop at one time, in a sacramen-tal manner, (1) represents the Son to the assembly, (2) represents the people of God, (3) represents the Church to itself. His actions in ordaining, then, are actions within the Community. He ordains "not as an individual but as the head of the eucharistic community." Bishop Vogel quotes the Orthodox theologian Dr. J. D. Zizoulas in saying, "There is no ministry in the Catholic Church that can exist in absoluto," and again, "there is no apostolic succession which does not go through the concrete com-munity." He comments: Within a diocese the bishop and presbyters form a college among themselves; the bishop and deacons constitute another community. The important point is that ordination, ac-cordingly, is entrance into a new community--the ministerial community--rather than the bare bestowal of a power. In ordination bishops do not pass on a power which they possess as individuals to other individuals who do not have it. That would be a baton-passing theory of ordination; the community would count for no more than the crowd watching a relay race. Here we find sacramental theology and theology of ministry tied solidly into ecclesiology, so that they are not left to wander in absoluto, causing endless problems for sacramental theologians. Ministry is within the eucharistic community of the Church. This is a primitive, and patristic view, often associated with the name of St. Cyprian of Carthage, and is, in the best sense of the word, "Episcopal" ecclesiology. Bishop Vogel concludes: The intention must originate in the community and be sacramentally personified by the community's bishop or his delegate within the episcopal college. Such authorization is necessary, or the people and bishop are not acting as a community--as one with the Church. Where there is no such authorization, where the jurisdiction of one bishop and com-munity is usurped by a bishop (or bishops) without jurisdiction, community and collegiality are broken . The ingredients of an ordination simply were not present. The bishops' conclusion that the group assembled in P, hiladelphia was not a real eucharistic community can, of course, be debated. On the other hand, the bishops, priests, deacons, and lay people who gathered in the Church of the Advocate in Philadelphia on July 29, 1974 did not claim to be a local con-gregation gathered around their bishops, nor did they claim to be the "rem-nant" of the True Church, separating themselves from a false institution. They claimed to be acting in and for the Episcopal Church, of which they were all members. But, the bishops object, they were not only unauthorized to act for the Episcopal Church in ordaining these women, the ordaining bishops were specifically bound by an undertaking with their brother bishops not to act in this way. The inevitable result is that the Church does not recognize their act. At this point, some people cry "Foul!" They object that they have meticulously followed the rule~ of the manuals to make sure that their acts would be recognized as valid, but the bishops have changed the rules, moving from a Medieval scholastic conce.pt of validity to a Cyprianic and Eastern one. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church / 523 The protest certainly has point, but it is paradoxical that most of the usual supporters of the kind of manual theology which the bishops rejected in Chicago are opposed to the ordination of women, while those most vocally concerned with the communal nature of the Church support their ordination. The idea, however, is not novel in Anglican theology, and fits well, in fact better, into traditional Anglican teaching than does manual theology. Both William Temple and Michael Ramsey spoke of the bish@ in ordination as not acting apart from the Church. This presentation, of its nature, cannot end with conclusions, but only with an observation, and a number of questions, which I believe to be those that presently face the Episcopal Church. They will, 1 believe, illuminate the dis-cussion of related issues in other Churches. The observation is that the Bishops of the Episcopal Church appear united in their belief that women have been given too small a share of the decision-making processes of the Church, and, whether or not the ordination of women to the priesthood is authorized in 1976, it seems clear that women will get more important positions in the "power structure." The questions are these: 1) Is female gender a diriment impediment to ordination to the priesthood? In this context the remarks of Robert F. Capon are exceptionally apt: If women are human, we can no longer go on talking about them as if they were some of our best friends. They are us. Any doctrine of the ministry, therefore, which effectively says that they are anything less must be abandoned. ("The Ordination of Women: A Non-Book," in Anglican Theological Review, SS 2 [Sel~t. 1973] p. 77) There are, nevertheless, a few Anglican theologians, and several bishops who would respond to our question with a solid yes. 2) If it is granted that women can be ordained, should a Church as numerically insignificant as ~he American Episcopal Church, even with the support of the worldwide Anglican Communion, alter 1900 years of contrary custom and proceed to do so? Many Anglicans would answer with the Orthodox that such things must await the summoning of the 8th Ecumenical Council. Anglicans are com-mitted to the view that they are only a part of the Catholic Church, and are reluctant to go out on a limb alone. Ordaining women will certainly cause the Episcopal Church problems in its dialogue with both Roman Catholics and Orthodox, but if it is right, then fear of unjust excommunication has never been an acceptable defense for failure to act. 3) Granted that it is possible, is it necessary for the Episcopal Church to ordain women, even at the cost of splitting our own Church? Certainly, if we do ordain women, we must be aware of the'havoc we shall raise with thestatus quo. There is already a shortage of"payingjobs" for priests in the Church and ordaining women will compound the problem. The women themselves are also likely to wind up underpaid and overworked in parishes that men have turned down. These dangers must be honestly faced. 524 / Review for Religious, lZolume 34, 1975/4 4) Finally, there are the large questions of the meaning of ordination. Can bishops, simply by virtue of their orders, and without the authority of the com-munity whose bishops they are, confer orders? Traditional Western sacramental theology has said yes, but that it is wrong for bishops to act in this way. Traditional Eastern sacramental theology has said no, that they act only in and for the Church. This is the position which the American House of Bishops took in Chicago. It is a position which seems to hold promise for a sacramental theology based upon the doctrine of the Church as the Body of Christ, and Christ Himself as the true minister of the sacraments. Reprints from the Review "The Confessions of Religious Women" by Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. (25 cents) "Institutional Business Administration and Religious" by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. (20 cents) "Authority and Religious Life" by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. (20 cents) "The Death of Atheism" by Rene H. Chabot, MoS. (20 cents) "The Four Moments of Prayer" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (25 cents) "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" by the Congregation for Religious (35 cents) "Meditative Description of the Gospel Counsels" (20 cents) "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer" by Herbert Francis Smith, S.J. (25 cents) "Religious Life in the Mystery of the Church" by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. (30 cents) "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (30 cents) "Consciousness Examen" by George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. (20 cents) "Retirement or Vigil?" by Benedict Ashley, O.P. (25 cents) "Celibacy and Contemplation" by Denis Dennehy, S.J. (20 cents) "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat" by Herbert F. Smith, S.J. (20 cents) "The Healing of Memories" by Francis Martin (20 cents) Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Revision of the ConstitiJtions: Meaning, Criteria and Problems Juan Manuel Lozano, C.M.F. Father Juan Manuel Lozano was Visiting Professor of Spirituality in the Divinity School of St. Louis University during the past semester. He is on the faculty of Lateran University and of his Institute's seminary: Claretianum; Via Aurelia 619 15, 00144 Rome, Italy. Religious communities are at present engaged in the final stage of the revision of their Constitutions in the aftermath of Vatican Council 11. Most of them, indeed, have already celebrated their first General Chapter after the Special Chapter of Renewal; and, according to the norms in force they must send the resulting text to the Holy See after the last touches are made by the next General Chapter. Institutes are still bustling especially because all the members of the various communities have been called to participate in the review of what had been their basic codes. Perhaps it will be helpful to set forth some personal ideas and experiences on the meaning of the present work of revision and on the problems which have been created by it. 1. The Starting Point The revision of their Constitutions by all religious institutes had been made obligatory by Vatican II in its decree, Perfectae Caritatis (par. 3). From the text of the decree itself, it is evident that the center of gravity of this paragraph was not the revision of documents, but rather the spiritual renewal and adapta-tion to the times of religious life in all its various aspects: the manner of living, praying and working, and the government of the various institutes. The revi-sion of the Constitutions emerges as a consequence of this in the second part of the paragraph cited: "Therefore let constitutions, directories., be suitably revised and, obsolete laws having been suppressed, be adapted to the decrees of this sacred synod." 525 526 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 The principle for the revision of the Constitutions, basic documents that are intended to inspire and rule the life of a religious community, is, therefore, to be drawn from the preceding paragraph of Perfectae Caritatis (no. 2) where both renewal and adaptation have been defined. In fact, even if in the text, probably because of Latin usage which prefers to join adjective to a substan-tive rather than two substantives, has the form: accommodata renovatio, in-stead of renovatio et accommodatio, the rest of the paragraph makes it clear that the council is referrit~g to two different realities by the term: a movement of spiritual renewal in fidelity towards the Gospel and towards the spirit of the founder, and another movement of fidelity to the real, historical condition of man: "renewal" and "adaptation." In speaking of the first movement, the council uses a biblical term: to go back, to return (sh~b) with God as its object is an expression commonly used in the Bible to designate conversion.~ A constant return to the sources of Christian Life and to the founder means, therefore, that a permanent move-ment of conversion must characterize religious communities. Religious life has always to return to being the privileged expression of Christian and authentic religious sentiment. Since this privileged expression was formulated in the past, in those historical periods in which the Church and the religious com-munity were founded, this conversion implies a return to the past, a pilgrimage back to the sources. Yet this return to the past happens only on the surface, since neither Christ nor the gifts of the Spirit that were granted to the founder belong!to the past; they are always alive. From this perspective, renewal might better be termed "a going inside" rather than "a going back." For its part, adaptation also should mean "a going inside"--an entering into actual, living humanity. And thus, religious life, following the logic of the Incarnation, must embrace both the Spirit that comes from God and the needs that come from society. Both renewal and adaptation, then, are two different expressions of a constant search for authenticity. This means that there are two basic facts, subsumed by the council in its recommendation of renewal and adaptation, that will influence the revision of the constitutions: human fallibility, and human historicity. In terms of these realities, religious life is constantly exposed to a series of trends that originate both from within (the community itself) and from without (society). And so religious life must constantly return to its double source of inspiration. As a matter of fact, human fallibility seems to have more effect on the daily life of the religious than it does on his Constitutions. For, even if the charism of infallibility does not extend to the spiritual doctrine that is ex-pressed in the Constitutions (they remain, after all, a purely human comment on the Gospel), it is nevertheless true that very often they have been written by one who was a faithful disciple of Christ, and that they have always received the approval of the Church. And this approval of the Church guarantees that the Constitutions are at least a sufficient guide by which to lead a life that is ICf. Jer 3,22; 4,1. Hos 6,1; Joel 2,12 . . . Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria and Problems / 527 committed to divine service. On the other hand, the approval of the Church does not assure us that the text of a given Constitution will keep its value per-manently, or that it is the best possible expression of spiritual doctrine, etc. This reality, of course, is connected rather with human historicity than with human fallibility. Nor does it seem to me that the approval of the Holy See guarantees fidelity on the part of the community to what had been the idea of the founder. The Church, to be sure, gives canonical approval to those ideas that the com-munity believes best expresses its spirit. And in so doing, the Church recognizes that the community in pursuing its project has a right to exist within the People of God without interference in regard to the more technical problem of the fidelity of some later changes to the idea of the founder. There are some communities which have obtained from Rome approval for a change in the formulation of their ministries which research has demonstrated were not truly faithful to the idea of the founder; they are now going back to the older formulation. On this level of being faithful to the original idea of the founder, Constitutions are subject to human fallibility, just as is religious life itself; and a revision may thus be necessary. Historicity touches the Constitutions more deeply, In certain instances, even when they were actually written by the founder, Constitutions appear too strictly conditioned by the limits of a mindset that was common at a certain time and in a certain society. Founders were, thank God, real, living men; they were not only the recipients of a charism, but they were also the products of a particular ambience. Some Constitutions, composed in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, i.e., in a time when spiritual theology was in decadence, show an approach to some features of Christian religiosity that may hardly be kept as permanent, classical formulations: for example, a purely negative ap-proach to consecrated chastity, a negative way of expressing mortification, a passive doctrine of obedience. Now, can we honestly think that a text which spoke of chastity only to forbid any kind of sexual acts expressed the basic value of consecrated chastity? Or that a text which expressed a very austere image of self-denial without enlightening it by the glory of the Resurrection could be the direct reflection of the Gospel? Or, on the contrary, were these the fruit of the spiritual attitude of a particular culture the natural causes of which can be uncovered by historians? We have to come to the conclusion that in the area of spiritual theology there are obsolete expressions just as there are ob-solete juridical or disciplinary norms. Not only Canon Law, but theology, too, is a product of history. Other, more recently written Constitutions have a purely juridical-disciplinary character in that they reproduce with few variations the Normae secundum quas, a document that was elaborated by the Congregation for Bishops and Regulars at the end of the last, and beginning of this century.2 2Published, e.g., by L. R. Ravasi C. P. in De Regulis et Constitutionibus Religiosorum. Rome 1958, pp 187-226. 52~1 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 Now the Normae expressly exclude from the Constitutions every kind of text dealing with theology and spirituality.3 This was quite understandable as a reaction against the simple exhortatory booklets that had been sent to the Holy See by most of the founders during the last century. It was also the result of the juridical optimism which had engulfed the Church in years in which Congregations of simple vows received their first official acknowledgement as religious institutes, receiving for the first time definite norms concerning their status in the Church, and years in which the entire Latin Church became in-volved in the creation of its first Code of Canon Law. What we have is the product of a certain mentality, one which belongs neither to the basic evangelical values of religious life nor to the charism of particular founders. This mentality is connected with a certain historical situa-tion. And, of course, it is impossible for any text to be in complete abstraction from its own times. Even the Rules of St. Augustine, St. Benedict and St. Francis are historical monuments, the reflection of a particular period of human history, as well as source documents of profound spirituality. In calling for renewal, th~n, th6 Church is clearly not asking that religious remove their Constitutions from every historical context, since, in any case, this would be quite impossible. But there are different ways of being related to history. A classic text, even if it keeps the flavor of the times in which it was composed, can give a balanced formulation of values that are permanent, and for this reason it will appeal to many generations. Other texts, however, re-main more on the surface, and tend to be influenced more strongly by the limitations of the culture in which they were written. This should neither sur-prise nor disappoint us. It takes time, after all, to develop a classical master-piece! Immediately after the promulgation of the decree, Perfectae Caritatis on October 25, 1965, two tendencies began to emerge among religious. One tendency, the more conservative, tried to limit the revision of the Constitutions to the suppression of obsolete norms and to adaptation to the new decrees. Revision, understood thus, followed the criteria which had inspired the earlier re-edition of Constitutions that had been necessary after the promulgation of the Code of Canon Law in 1917. The other tendency, more liberal and aware of cultural conditioning, pres-ent in many texts, affirmed the need to adapt the entire text of the Constitutions to the "spirit of the Council," i.e., to the theological and spiritual vision which had been growing in the Church during recent decades but which has burgeoned enormously in the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council. Since the decree, Perfectae Caritatis, speaking in a very general way, could not fix precisely the extension of the revision it called for, the problem remained aNormae I, IV n 33: Ravasi p 183. The prohibition was practically abolished in the new Normae issued in 1921. Cf Ravasi p 231. But at that time most .of the Constitutions of the modern Congregations had already received their last form. Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria and Problems / 529 unsolved until the motu proprio, Ecclesiae Sanctae, was promulgated, in which Paul VI fixed criteria for the revision that was to take place. Prior to this, it had been possible to suppose that the depth of any revision would de-pend in every case on the quality of the original basic text. But this was precisely what was at issue in the discussion between both tendencies within the various communities. 2. Criteria for Revision On August 6, 1966, Pope Paul VI published his motu proprio, Ecclesiae Sanctae, which looked to the implementation of four decrees of the Council, the second of which was Perfectae Caritatis. In this portion of the document, one section is dedicated to the laying down of criteria for the revision of Constitutions: Ecclesiae Sanctae II, 12-14. The motu proprio, in dealing with principles for the revision of Constitutions, showed genuine development. Not only did it fix some points firmly, but it traced the general pattern that all Constitutions must follow. The criteria he gave can be summarized as follows: A. Constitutions, as religious life itself, must have a twofold aspect: doc-trinal and canonical. "Doctrine" here embraces two different facets: 1) the common elements that are essential for religious life in its union with the Church; 2) the par-ticular charism of the institute, expressed by the original idea of the founder and developed by an authentic living tradition. The "canonical elements" are to define the character, purpose and means of the institute. Character refers to an Order with autonomous monasteries or with centralized government, a Congregation of simple vows, an Apostolic Society, a Secular Institute, etc. Purpose embraces the general goal of religious life, and the particular charism of the individual community. Some communities have special ministries. Others are oriented in general towards evangelization in all its forms. The universal or particular character of their mission in the Church should be clearly expressed. In the Normae secundum quas that is followed by most of the modern Congregations, the general and particular goals were separated in two different paragraphs? These two paragraphs can be blended into one rich formulation that reflects the living unity in which they are associated in reality. Means are all the particulars that further community life, the profession of the evangelical life and the special ministry of the community. Therefore, they include spiritual and canonical 4No~'mae 1901 il, I, 1 nn 42-46, Ravasi p 195. cf also p 234. In the Normae the two purposes were called primary and secondary, using a terminology which sounds at least strange when applied to institutes whose founders had been first moved by the idea of responding with an apostolic ministry to certain concrete needs of the Church. The apostolic purpose (sometimes expressed through a fourth vow, or an equivalent commitment) has been the core around which the religious life has developed in many Institutes, from the Knights of Malta, to the Dominicans, Jesuits, Lasalle Brothers, Claretians . This is the reason why the praxis of calling both purposes general and specific has prevailed. ~i30 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 norms, basicstructures of government, requirements of formation and incor-poration, and the works of the apostolate. The introduction of this first principle in the motu proprio, i.e., that both doctrinal and canonical elements are required in any proposed revision, con-stitutes a fortunate change of direction in the policy that had formerly been followed by the Church. We have seen that the Normae secundum iluas ex-cluded every kind of doctrinal expression. And even if the idea was later tempered, in actual fact Constitutions remained mostly juridical codes. Now, if this might have been acceptable for Constitutions of the Regular Orders which also have a "Spiritual Rule" as part of their basic documents, in all in-stitutes founded after the Mendicant Orderg, the Constitutions are their only basic code. Therefore they have need of a doctrinal definition of the vocation and spirit of their respective communities. B. Constitutions are to be a text of essentials. The motu proprio emphasizes this characteristic. Constitutions must con-tain "the principles of religious life/and/the necessary juridical norms" (no. 12). For this reason, all elements that are not related to the basic features of the kind of religious life professed by the particular institute should not be in-cluded in its Constitutions. This recommendation of the Pope offers a very rich idea of what Constitutions ought to be. Constitutions should be a "charter" of charity, of communion,5 in which all the members of the institute, though they belong to different times and cultures, are able to recognize their own vocation and spirit. This implies that only the really essential features, of that vocation and spirit should be defined in the Constitutions, leaving the res~ to the initiative of the Holy Spirit and to the inescapable pluralism that varying circumstances demand. St. Benedict had well expressed this idea when, in explaining why he is opposed to setting down many norms about food and abstinence, he states in his Rule: "Everyone has received from God his own gift, one in one way, another in a different way. So it is with some hesitation that we fix/any/ measures for others.''6 From this point of view, Constitutions should express a minimum--the essential minimum. C. The motu proprio explicitly excludes from Constitutions all elements which are subject to change, which are now obsolete, or which correspond to local usages. Behind this criterion lies the idea 'that Constitutions should, as far as possi-ble, retain a permanent value.A community cannot change its Constitutions frequently without jeopardizing the peace and stability of the community. Therefore Constitutions should now tend to be what the "Rule" was for the Orders: a permanent and undiscussed source of inspiration. D. Regarding the form of Constitutions, the motu proprio recommends concision and precision. SThis was the. title given by the Cistercians to their most ancient constitutional text. Cf PL 166,1377-1384. 8Regula 40,1-2. Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria and Problems / 531 Concision: "necessary norms., not excessively multiplied" (no. 12, b). Precision: "in suitable and clear words" (no. 12, a); "in an adequate manner" (no. 12, b). 3. Conclusions and Problems The first criterion, viz., that Constitutions should contain both doctrine and laws, often de facto means the redaction of a new text. As we have already mentioned, many modern Constitutions had only a juridical-disciplinary character. This is probably the main reason why the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, in a statement published on July 12, 1968, declared that the revision of the Constitutions could be understood as the writing of a new text. The only condition is that the individual community must remain within the limits set by the nature, aims and spirit of the institute. Another reason that recommended the composition of a new text was the great difficulty experienced by many communities when they began to in-troduce partial emendations such as new paragraphs on obedience, celibacy, community, liturgy. There were deep differences between two approaches to spirituality: the one being largely individualistic and ascetic, the other being communitarian, liturgical and ecclesial, and these began to appear more strongly. Some communities which had begun to modify the old text finally arrived at the decision to write a new text. Other communities had decided from the beginning to write a new one. In my own experience with different in-stitutes, this decision to rewrite has been a wise one. The application of the criteria laid down by the Ecclesiae Sanctae has given a new shape to Constitutions. This fact has provoked a certain uneasiness among many religious. At first, they did not know what to do with the new doctrinal style. They missed the old disciplinary norms. And we cannot blame them for this. They had been accustomed for years to another kind of legisla-tion. Some of them even expressed their suspicion that the suppression of prac-tical norms was of[en the fruit of a certain relaxation. This attitude seems to result from a twofold misunderstanding: First of all, the new texts do not really make concessions in the direction of relaxation. Certainly they show a more positive approach to the basic features of Christian life and, therefore, the negative vocabulary~ that had been cherished by the Christian spirituality of the last two or three centuries tends to disappear. But if emphasis is placed on the positive and central elements of Christianity, this does not dissipate the negative consequences. Even if new Constitutions focus on following Jesus, they do not forget that in order to follow Him, we have to leave everything for Him. We cannot forget that this is the precise perspective of Christian spirituality as it is presented in the Gospels. On the other hand, there are doctrinal statements which are much more exigent than practical rules prescribing certain austerities. The invitation to be "a sign of contradiction" found in a new text is much more exigent than the rule requiring permission every time a sister leaves the house. The second misunderstanding concerns the value of the doctrinal section. 532 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 Religious are commonly agreed that the new doctrinal texts express in most cases a very rich spirituality. But some of them do not seem to appreciate the exact value of these statements which seem to them to be less binding than the old, disciplinary texts. This is a mistake. The doctrinal texts of the Constitutions do not contain a mere theological reflection. They express the idea that the community itself has of its own vocation and spirit in the Church. And therefore, they bind all the members as long as they desire to remain in the community. Far from being a merely theoretical explanation, they contain what might be called a "constitutional doctrine." Religious who are uneasy with the new style of Constitutions should recall that a text which traces the basic features of a vocation and spirit, a text which describes a mode of existence instead of prescribing a set of practices, a text which prefers the indicative to the imperative is actually more in line with the evangelical idea of Law. The deep difference between the Old Law and the Sermon on the Mount is that Jesus proposes a vocation to men who are no longer servants but friends.7 And who will argue that the Beatitudes are less binding than the Decalogue, even though they move on a different level? The commandments of not killing, of not committing adultery, of not stealing re-quire a material observance, because they express a minimum. The beatitudes on peacemakers, on purity of heart and on poverty on the other hand require a growing fidelity to the Spirit. They express the basic features of Christian ex-istence. If, from one point of view, as has been mentioned, the Constitutions should be the definition of an essential minimum, at the same time the principle that states they should contain the doctrinal formulation of the vocation and spirit of the community makes them also to be the expression of an ideal maximum. They propose a calling which is never completely fulfilled; they show a path on which no one should stop; they set forth the means by which religious can grow in the Spirit. This, also, is the exact meaning of the Beatitudes. We are never completely "poor in spirit," but the poorer we are, the more blessed we are. "You came here to be one heart," writes St. Augustine at the beginning of his Rule for the Servants of God? But he knows that on this earth we are never completely "one heart.''a St. Benedict, too, is well aware of this fact, when he finishes his Rule with the invitation to grow and to grow yet more.~° Constitutions are supposed to reflect the dynamic tendency of Christian ex-istence. Consequently, their observance implies a double fidelity: fidelity to the letter of the essential common laws, and, more profoundly, a dynamic, grow-ing fidelity to the Spirit. 4. Constitutions and Complementary Norms The reduction of the Constitutions to an essential "basic rule" implies as a 7Saint Ambrose, De l~iduis 12,72-73, PL 16,256-257. aRegula ad Servos Dei I, PL 32,1378. Epistola 211,5 PL 33,960. aDe bono coniug. 18,21 PL 40,387-388. ~°Regula 73. Revision of the Constitutions." Meaning, Criteria and Problems / ~i33 consequence the need for a complementary code that should contain more detailed norms. The idea of this complementary "Directory" was suggested by the Pope in Ecclesiae Sanctae. Such a code formerly existed in many Congregations: called in French institutes the Directoire, in the Roman canonical tradition of other Congregations it has been called the Codex luris Addititii (the code of complementary laws.) This Directory is supposed to contain the norms that are ordained to im-plement the Constitutions in all the aspects of the life of the community; prayer, particular traditions, formation, government. All norms which can easily be subject to change should be inserted into this complementary text rather than into the Constitutions. The Directory remains under the exclusive responsibility of the General Chapter while the Constitutions, after their ap-proval by the Holy See, can no longer be modified by the community without approval from Rome. There is today an even greater need for a complete legislation in each in-stitute, for, if the criteria followed in the provisional draft of Canon Law in regard to religious becomes definitive, many norms which were before fixed by common law will be left to the initiative of the individual institute. Since such a "complete legislation" will be made up of two texts, the Constitutions and the Directory, the institutes which have postponed the composition of the second text should now begin to work towards the formulation of their Directory. In suggesting this, we are aware of the heavy burden that such a procedure places on the religious especially of smaller communities. On the other hand, it is worth cautioning against an attempt to fix rapidly an abundance of such com-plementary norms just for the sake of having a "complete legislation." However, at least the most important norms, such as those concerning elec-tions, requirements for certain offices, incorporation into the institute, re-quirements for formation, etc., should be fixed, and the decisions made by the General Chapter should be listed clearly and in order (following the same order as the Constitutions). Furthermore, the Directory should be provisional. Since it will remain within the competency of the institute, the General Chapter will be able to improve upon it in progressive fashion. 5. Definitive Approval of the Constitutions and the New Canon Law The announcement that a new draft of Canon Law in regard to religious is now under study seems to have introduced a new factor of uncertainty in the process that leads to the fixing of a definitive text of the Constitutions. And we can surmise that definitive approval for revised Constitutions will not be granted by the Holy See until the promulgation of the new Canor~ Law. Cer-tainly, since both the new Canon Law and the Constitutions of each com-munity will contain fewer details, there will be less possibility that some points of the Constitutions will be in contradiction to the new code. But there will be many points in which it would be better if the Constitutions used the ter-minology adopted by the code. Will this mean that the period during which the Constitutions will remain under the responsibility of the individual institutes 534 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 will be prolonged by the Holy See? Since religious seem now to have overcome in large part the insecurity which had accompanied the change of their con-stitutional norms, it is possible that the Holy See will study the possibility of giving more time to the maturation of both the Constitutions and the Direc-tory. But it is also possible that the Sacred Congregation for Religious will prefer to open a period of dialogue with individual communities in which the Constitutions will be subjected to examination from both sides, even if they will no longer be under the exclusive responsibility of the individual institute. Surely in either case Roman sagezza will find a way of avoiding the repetition of what happened in the first decades of this century when many Constitutions approved in the first fifteen years of the century had to go back to Rome ten years later to be adapted to the then new Code of Canon Law. Back Issues of the Review The following is a list of the back issues of Review for Religious that are presently available: The first twenty-five volumes (1942-1966) inclusive of the Review have been reprinted in twenty-five clothbound volumes. Volumes 1 to 20 (1942- 1961) sell at $6.50 the volume; volumes 2l to 25 (1962-1966) sell at $7.50 the volume. 1967: All issues 1968: All issues 1969: All issues 1970: All issues 1971: All issues 1972: All issues 1973: All issues 1974: All issues 1975: All issues (except January) (except January) Some of these issues are available only in small numbers. The issues cost $1.75 (plus postage) each and should be ordered from: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Affirmation: Healing in Community Sister Gabrielle L. Jean House of Affirmation, Inc., is an international therapeutic center for clergy and religious, located at 120 Hill Street; Whitinsville, MA 01588. Sister Gabrielle L. Jean, Ph.D., is Director of the Worcester Consulting Center; 201 Salisbury Street; Worcester, MA 01609. Founding of the House of Affirmation The House of Affirmation is an outgrowth of the Worcester Consulting Center for Clergy and Religious which was established in 1970 in response to the expressed needs of the religious professionals of the diocese. The impact of Vatican II had been strongly felt by the clergy and religious who had to meet increased pressures from the demands of decentralization and responsible in-volvement in social and ecclesial issues. The services of the Consulting Center provided a religious professional the opportunity for self-discovery through the contemporary approaches of psychiatry and psychology in ongoing dialogue with theological developments. The Vicar for Priests and Religious, Diocese of Worcester, when ap-proached by the members of the Interim Senate for Religious, was informed of the fact that a sister-psychiatrist was working at the Worcester State Hospital; it was suggested she would probably help in the organization of mental health services for the religious and clergy of the area. The sister, Anna Polcino, a Medical Missionary physician-surgeon who had returned from West Pakistan a few years earlier, was invited to membership on the planning committee which had been brought together to think through the logistics of the enter-prise. She then became the first director of what was to become the Worcester Consulting Center. A young diocesan priest, Thomas A. Kane, was then com-pleting his doctoral work in clinical psychology and he became co-director of the Consulting Center. 535 636 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 The overriding goal of the Consulting Center was to help the clients become fully human, consistently free persons within the context of their ecclesial calling and social insertion. Sister Anna and Father Kane undertook to meet this goal through a threefold program of service, education and research. Since its opening, the services and programs of the Consulting Center have included individual consultation, group consultation, group process communication labs, personal growth groups, candidate assessment, lectures and workshops. After two full years of operation, however, it became apparent to Sr. Anna that the outpatient facilities were not sufficient for some religious and clergy who had come to the Consulting Center; there was definite need for an inten-sive residential treatment program. Thus was the House of Affirmation con-ceived. It became a reality in October, 1973, when the doors were opened to its first residents in Whitinsville, Massachusetts. Dr. Anna Polcino assumed the responsibility of psychiatric director of therapy and Dr. Thomas A. Kane became its executive director. The residential center pursues the same goals as the Consulting Center; namely, service, education and research. Philosophy of the House of Affirmation The philosophy underlying the House of Affirmation's existence and operation can be succinctly stated as: treatment of the whole person in a wholly therapeutic environment. Mental health professionals adhering to this basic philosophy meet a real challenge when their clientele is constituted by other professionals whose religious values are central to their vocational choice and identity. Religious men and women have chosen a celibate way of life which jars with the usual Freudian model of therapy. And so an alternative had to evolve to meet the needs of this relatively important and clearly delineated sociological group of celibate religious professionals seeking psy-chological help. A group situation provides a favorable environment for the social relearn-ing that constitutes therapy. Modern psychology emphasizes the tremendous power of the environment on human development and behavior; our sur-roundings exert a molding influence on our behavior. In "milieu therapy," the expectancies and attitudes of the treatment staff are central to bringing about social rehabilitation but the "psychotheoiogical community" concept of the House of Affirmation goes beyond this milieu therapy with its inherent psy-choanalytic orientation and reductionism. There is an existential concern with rediscovering the living person amid the compartmentalization and dehumanization of modern culture. Interest centers on reality as immediately experienced by the person witl~ the accent on the inner-personal character of the client's experience. The therapeutic community supplies the type of accept-ing or impartial reactions from others that favor social learning. Besides, the therapeutic environment prevents further disorganization in the client's behavior by reducing his intense anxieties. Affirmation, Healing in Community / ~i37 Psychotheological Therapeutic Community The House of Affirmation has developed a unique model in its psy-chotheological therapeutic community. The expression "psychotheological community" implies a quest for communion with God and with man. It is an accepted fact that personhood can only be realized in community, and this phenomenological aspect of man's human predicament aligns the model with the existential therapeutic movement.-It seeks to analyze the structure of the religious professional's human existence in view of understanding the reality underlying his being-in-crisis. It is concerned with the profound dimensions of the emotional and spiritual temper of contemporary man. The importance of community looms large in the current psychological literature. Stern and Marino state that "religion and psychotherapy encourage community engagement with life; both can be distorted to emphasize a kind of pulling back in order to ensure personal safety. Insofar as they foster openness, they become true protectors of the role that love can play in cement-ing human relationships, and consequently, the reconciliation of society. The establishment of relationships is the first step in establishing the community. As a stranger becomes familiar, we are in a better position to reach out to him, to join our lives more closely. Our differences will never disappear and we will find it necessary to sacrifice a degree of autonomy.''1 Each person in the community remains a unique individual. He may grow and change in the community but he will retain his identity. Personal union of community members serves to bring out and enrich what is uniquely true of each individual. "Growth in community will be effected by all those active and passive elements that created favorable conditions for the growth of unity and charity: openness, receptivity, sharing, giving, receiving. Community connotes oneness without loss of identity, a sharing in the interiority of another without the sacrifice of personal integrity.''~ The adaptations recommended and wrought by the Second Vatican Coun-cil have changed the pattern of environmental demands on Christians at large, but it has wrought this change even more on formally professed religious men and women. Some have adjusted quickly and almost with eagerness to these changes wliile others have been.floundering in the insecurity of a slow and painful assimilation of change. The poignant experience of confusion, doubt and sense of loss has taxed the coping ability of many who, cut off from safe moorings, question their identity and authenticity in what they consider an un-charted land. The post-Vatican period demands maturity and balance on the part of those chosen to minister to the people of God especially because much risk is involved. ~E. Mark Stern and Bert G. Marino, Psychotheology (Paramus, N.Y.: Newman Press, 1970), p. 66. ~Sister Daniel Turner, "The American Sister Today," in The Changing Sister (Notre-Dame, Ind.: Fides, 1965), pp. 309-310. Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium, emphasized the aspect of community when it spoke of the Church as a "sign and sacrament of man's union with God and of the unity of the whole human race" (LG, 1). The religious community as such cannot form the person although it should provide a setting in which the individual human being can emerge as a fully functioning adult. For too long, religious communities of men and women as well as priests in rectories have had. a task-oriented rather than person-oriented environment. Yet personal development is a basic prerequisite to a meaningful life in society at large and in the local community where the celibate lives. This follows logically from the principle that love of self precedes love of others. However, I can only know myself if another reveals me to myself just as I can only come to a real love of self when I come to the realization that I am loved by another. Likewise does man find his meaning and sense of identity in and through others. The person-oriented group helps man realize his personhood when, through the truth and goodness'of his con-freres, man's own powers of knowing and loving are released. In the therapeutic community of the House of Affirmation, the resident can formulate his own reactions, share them in social communication and thus become aware of the commonness of his own anxieties. By sharing his reac-tions with peers, he is practicing the very techniques of social interaction in which he has typically remained unskilled. In the reactions of his peers with whom he shares his daily activities, the resident finds the acceptance, support, protection, challenge and competition which enable him to develop more valid self-reactions. In addition, the therapeutic milieu provides the opportunity for social interaction among residents and staff. The House of Affirmation is neither a place of confinement nor a haven for "rest and recreation"; rather, it is a miniature social-religious community planned and controlled to facilitate the social learning of its residents. The professional staff members have accepted as the general goal of psychotherapy to help the "unfree," childishly dependent person become a genuine adult capable of "responding affirmatively to life, people and society.''3 The focus is on self-understanding and insight-building of an immediate and current nature in view of helping the individual to grasp the meaning of his existence in its historical totality. Ultimately, the mentally healthy client will attain freedom to choose, maturity in outlook and responsible independence. The life of the celibate can be viewed as an ongoing process of interaction with the religious, social and natural forces that make up his environment. The meaning that life assumes for a celibate depends on his personal response to these forces. The celibate community constitutes a union of persons who par-ticipate in a common love-response to the call of Christ.4 The key to a proper 3John Dalrymple, Christian Affirmation (Denville, N.J.: Dimension Books, Inc., 1971), p. 10. 'Sister Helen Marie Beha, OSF, Living Community (Milwaukee, Wis.: Bruce Publishing Co., 1967), p. 21. Affirmation, Healing in Community understanding of community lies in participation which becomes a unifying force which, at the same time, allows for individual differences. Is not willingness to receive from him one of the dearest gifts one can give to another? Participation characterizes the relationship of individuals united by love in community. All encounters assume meaning in that context; they become avenues to change. The difference his presence makes in the overall community process gives meaning to the celibate's life. Being human really means coming to grips, in a creative way, with the concrete situation in which we find ourselves. The ex-perience of here-and-now is crucial, for life is today--not yesterday or tomorrow. The same applies in the therapeutic situation be it individual or group: the ongoing, immediate experience of residents and therapists as they interact becomes the phenomenological focus in therapy. The total phenomena ex-perienced at any moment in time is what describes man's existential situation; the experienced event is what is brought to therapy. Listening to others as per-sons, looking into their eyes, mind and heart with deep sympathy, feeling that this person is suffering, is appealing to us as a person--is this not affirmative response to Christ's summons: "Love one another as I have loved you" (.In 13:34)? The call to Christian life is ideally expressed in the experience of the Eucharist which is the community experience par excellence. The Eucharist builds up a community of faith, and so it stands at the very center of the psy-chotheoiogical community that is the House of Affirmation; it reveals the solidarity of all members in Christ. It is the same solidarity that is expressed in the opening words of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, Gaudium et Spes: "The joys and hopes, the sorrows and worries of the men of our time are ours" (GS, 1). The House of Affirmation has thus accepted the challenge of the Fathers of Vatican II who urged, in the same document that we make appropriate use "not only of theological principles, but also of the findings of the secular sciences, especially of psychology and sociology" (GSo 62) to help the faithful live their faith in a more thorough and mature way. In its Decree on the Ap-propriate Renewal of the Religious Life, Perfectae Caritatis, the Council Fathers pursued the same line of thought: "The manner of living, praying, and working should be suitably adapted to the physical and psychological con-ditions of today's religious., to the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, and to the social and economic circumstances" (PC, 3). In the article pertaining to chastity, religious are urged to "take advantage of those natural helps which favor mental and bodily health . Everyone should remember that chastity has stronger safeguards in a community when true fraternal love thrives among its members" (PC, 12). Celibate religious professionals who are trained in psychiatry and psychology can bring to bear their own experience in coming to a better understanding of the emotional problems of religious and priestly life today. Such is the case in both of our outpatient Consulting Centers and the residential treatment center of the House of Affirmation. ~i40 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 For too long, celibates have been frustrated when seeking professional help since they were limited to psychiatrists and psychologists who had little un-derstanding of their religious commitment; the misconceptions that could arise often deterred religious and priests from seeking psychiatric-psychological help. Our residential treatment center has been set up to minimize the threat and the possible alienation attendant on presenting oneself to a professional-type establishment. A home-like atmosphere has been developed which has proved most therapeutic and which prepares the individual to respond to therapyin a very positive manner, and that contrasts with the resistance that is frequently found when working with the laity. At present, there are twenty residents at the House of Affirmation of which thirteen are men. An attempt is being made to establish a better men/women ratio but the fact is that more men than women are referred for residential treatment. The professional staff presently includes one psychiatrist, six psy-chologists, two pastoral counselors and one registered nurse. The basic com-ponents of the therapeutic program are: Mode of therapy Time per session Weekly Individual 1 hour twice Group (same therapist) 1 1/2 hours twice Intercommunication lab I 1/2 hours once Psychodrama 1 1/2 hours once Residents' group (no therapist present) 1 hour once Group design I hour once Ancillary therapies: Photography I 1/2 hours once Movement therapy 2 hours once Physical therapy 1 hour once Alcoholics Anonymous 1 hour once Ceramics 2 hours once Yoga 1 hour once Art therapy 3 hours once Lectures; Psychology/psychiatry 1 hour once Psychotheological reflections I hour once Spirituality 1 hour once An individual priest, sister or brother may be referred to the House of Af-firmation for the purpose of coming to a better understanding of his emotional problems and/or to resolve them. However, the client is always informed that unless he comes of his own free will, therapy will be of little avail to him. No resident is accepted for treatment on the mere recommendation of his religious superiors; the applicant must indicate willingness to come for therapy. The principle of confidentiality is crucial to the operation of the House of Affirma-tion; privacy is maintained at all times. This has produced a sense of security Affirmation, Healing in Community / 541 and trust and the clientele has grown geometrically. Since its inception, it has been stressed that the purpose of the House of Affirmation is not so much keeping the celibate in the religious or priestly life as helping him become truly human and consistently free. Through therapy, he can come to his own deci-sion about his future. In the course of therapy, the client comes to view his experience in wider perspective and he gains a better future orientation. Self-growth demands that the individual have something to aim for, a goal which can be brought into reality through committed action. The individual's task will then be to ac-tualize this possibility, to make it a reality. As a person begins to respond to his feelings, he sees possibilities in his future and makes attempts to achieve these; by so doing, responsible independence increases in his life-style. Many of the problems that have been presented at the consulting centers and at the residential center have been classified as deprivation syndromes and as what Freud has described as repressive neurosis. In the first case, lack of love and acceptance (lack of affirmation) has crippled the psychological func-tioning of individuals; in the latter case, one encounters priests and religious who have made excessive use of the defense mechanism known as intellec-tualization. Many of these individuals are not aware of their emotions and have even repressed anger in their life as celibates. The repression in this in-stance often came about by faulty training which presented the emotion of anger as "unvirtuous," an emotion not to be expressed at any time. Yet Christ found it appropriate to express His emotions: "The angry man who picked up a cord to drive the buyers and sellers out of the temple, who wept in sadness over Jerusalem, who was bathed in sweat before His arrest was not a stoical, emotionless man.''s Through therapy, individual clients become aware of their emotions, are informed that their emotions are basically good and are encouraged to express them in a healthy way within the context of a celibate life. Individual therapy is supported by group therapy where anger-feelings may be expressed and accepted as such. The re-educative process is somewhat long and painful but it "pays off" in a more personally satisfying and productive life. Having been af-firmed by a significant other in the course of individual therapy and, in turn, affirming others, the healed resident knows and feels who he is. He finds that he is different from others but that he is acceptable, that he belongs in com-munity, that he is contributing to it and changing it. He has come to realize that there is a unique place for him in society, that he has a unique contribu-tion to make to it, that he can choose freely to do and to love.6 The effectiveness of this model has already been substantiated by in-house research. It is very likely that it will find still further support for its claims with the passage of time. 5Dalrymple, op. cir. p. 111. nThomas A. Kane, Who Controls Me? (Hicksville, N.Y.: Exposition Press, 1974), pp. 75-76. Prayer: A Thematic Bibliography Compiled by David Ricken Mr. David Ricken is a seminarian of the Diocese of Dodge City, Kansas. His current address: 1501 Belleview--Apt. //3; La Junta, CO 81050. The purpose of this bibliography is to present some of the best authors and books on prayer to a variety of people who are in(erested in prayer for a variety of reasons. This bibliography is divided into several themes so that the reader may easily select that book which is best suited to his interest and purpose. Of course, division brings limitation, and the placement of each work into one particular theme is, on occasion, arbitrary and personal. Attempt has been made, however, to classify each work according to that theme which appears to be central to the book. Obviously, there are many more books on prayer which have not been listed here. However, better to have read one book and to pray than to have read many books and to not pray. l--Prayer: Introductions: Bloom, Archbishop Anthony. Beginning to Pray. Paramus: Paulist. This book is an experience in prayer and contains helpful suggestions and en-couragements to begin one's quest of love for God. Chapman, Dom John. The Spiritual Letters of Dora John Chapman. London: Sheed & Ward, 1935. This work is a compilation of letters, and does not pretend to be a survey or summa of the spiritual life; );et it has become a classic, mostly because of its sound advice on spiritual life in general and mysticism in particular. Guardini, Romano. Prayer in Practice. New York: Pantheon, 1957. 542 Prayer." A Thematic Bibliography / 543 Written by an excellent theologian of several years ago, Prayer in Practice is a thorough, highly intelligible introduction to prayer. The scope of the book is broad, and the author delicately intertwines and balances theory and practice. Jarrett, Bede, O.P. Meditations for Lay-Folk. St. Louis: B. Herder This book is a series of well-thought-out essays on every aspect of Catholic thought and living, but the few sections on prayer are especially fine. Father Jarrett shows prayer to be, in one sense, the "pondered love of God," the lifting of the mind through the heart, and the gradual taking on of God's point of view. It also tries to relate prayer to every possible circumstance of life, thus broadening the base of prayer, making it something more than a narrowly spiritual activity. Father Jarrett shows that there is a totality to prayer, as there should be a totality to man's life with God. He also shows that prayer is normal, since God is interested in every human being and every human being is called to a deep and intimate life with Him. For Father Jarrett, prayer is eminently the "'voice of faith," the living embodiment in one's life of what one believes. It is the natural blossom-ing of the knowledge of the Faith in one's life. It is the voice and nourishment of a per-sonal seeking of God. Maritain, Jacques and Raissa. Prayer and Intelligence. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1943. Comprising less than fifty pages, it is a study of prayer based on St. Thomas and St. John of the Cross. It is not written in philosophical or theological language, but sets forth in very simple language the path of prayer for Christians and is applicable not only to the learned theologian and religious teacher, but also to the ordinary housewife who is a child of God and called to a life of prayer. McNabb, Vincent, O.P. The Path of Prayer. Springfield, 111.: Templegate. This small book is written in the form of a "diary of Sir Lawrence Shipley," and in it Father McNabb embodies some of the fundamental principles of prayer, based on the theology of St. Thomas Aquinas. Prayer is shown to be the habit of leaning on God and the total ordering of one's life to God. It also shows that prayer does anything but produce passive men. Rather it opens up every human possibility and the use of every human gift in God's service. It is a careful reflection on the principles and implications of the life of prayer, enabling one to begin building a personal "pragmatic" of prayer. Rahner, Karl, S.J. On Prayer. Paramus, N.J.: Paulist. With that bold insight and careful respect for the truth so characteristic of him, Rahner has given us the fruit of his search for God. It is clearly discernible that for this eminent theologian, there is hardly.a distinction between theology and prayer. In a style which is easy to understand, he articulates his vision of prayer, one which is truly authentic and truly beneficial. ll--Prayer: Reflections: Caretto, Carlo. Letters From The Desert. Maryknoll: Orbis, 1972. This is prayer incarnate. Prayer as passion, as compassion, as the life and breath of a virile and contemplative mind in a passionate search for the core of his being. Prayer drove Carlo Caretto into the desert, where he could listen to the voice of God in silence and solitude. There is a freshness and primitive innocence to his words as God begins to take hold of his whole being. This is the chronicle of one man's desert experience. Caretto, Carlo. The God Who Comes. Maryknoll: Orbis, 1974. ~i44 / Review for Relibious, Volume 34, 1975/4 This is another presentation of Brgther Carlo's thoughts and reflections from his solitude in the Sahara desert. Written in a simple and direct style, the main thrust of his writing deals with man's hope for "the God Who comes." The book treats ofthe Church as an in-stitution of men and women and as a divine reality which through its renewal and change will evermore make known the gratuity of God. In parts, Brother Carlo speaks of his own life in solitude, his prayer, his contempla-tion and his own dialogue with Jesus. Farrell, Rev. Edward J. Prayer is a Hunger. Denville: Dimension, 1972. Father Farrell writes of prayer as a hunger to be intensely experienced and as a journey to be creatively undertaken. These reflections in solitude encourage the reader to keep a "journal" as an enticement to prayer. The book itself exemplifies this "'journal" ap-proach and helps one to begin to see what prayer is all about. Nouwen, Henri J.M. With Open Hands. Notre Dame: Ave Maria, 1972. With gentleness and authenticity, Nouwen has here developed an artistry which is at once rare and most welcome. With Open Hands is a prayer, for it helps the one who enters into it to allow the walls which he has built around himself to crumble. The author truly teaches the reader to open his hands. Turro, James. Reflections--Path To Prayer. Paramus, N.J.: Paulist, 1972. The beautiful blend of captivating color photographs and a profound text has produced a masterpiece which can lead to prayer with ease. Ill--Prayer: The Presence of God. Abhishiktananda (Henri Le Saux, O.S.B.) Prayer. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1972. To be Christian is to be contemplative. To be Christian is to live in awareness of the presence of God. Contemplation is not the private possession of monks and nuns, priests and religious. It is a gift of God to every man to be exploited and enjoyed. Born in the West, this monk has completely immersed himself in the spiritual heritage of the East. He is one of those phenomenal men who has not lost the roots of his own tradition, but is himself a bridge between East and West. Brother Lawrence. The Practice of the Presence of God. Springfield, I11.: Templegate, 1963 (3rd Edition). This little classic is Franciscan in its primitive simplicity, almost like a page out of a diary of St. Francis. The sheer beauty of God has captivated the heart of Lawrence, and the glimpses that he gets of God in the world around him and in God's Word shatters his heart, developing a spirituality that destroys every last ounce of the fear and diffidence that once motivated him. The introduction by Dorothy Day puts the times of Brother Lawrence into focus and the trans.lation by Donald.Attwater is limpid and clear. This is an account of growth in genuine prayer and the gradual opening of one man's mind and heart to the loveliness of God. It is a paradigm of prayer of great depth and beauty. IV--Prayer: Hesychasm or Prayer of the Heart: Anonymous. The Way of the Pilgrim, and The Pilgrim Continues His Way. (translated from the Russian by R. M. French) New York: Seabury Press, 1965. Prayer." A Thematic Bibliography / 545 After hearing in an Epistle the exhortation of St. Paul "to pray without ceasing," a pilgrim sets out on a journey to do exactly that--to pray ceaselessly. In inspiring narratives, the author instructs the reader about continual interior prayer. This is an ex-cellent introduction to the "Jesus Prayer." Chariton, Igumen (compiler). The Art of Prayer: An Orthodox Anthology. London: Faber & Faber, 1966. Dove Publications. This great anthology is concerned chiefly with one particular prayer, the "Jesus Prayer." This simple prayer has become the edifice upon which many Orthodox have built their spiritual life and through which many have penetrated to truth. This compilation of texts from spiritual men of many ages demonstrates the depth and riches of such a simple prayer.*** Kadloubovsky, E., and Palmer, G. E. H., translators. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. London: Faber & Faber, 1951. "Philokalia" means "'love of the beautiful" and it was the purpose of the Fathers of the Eastern Church to instill a sense of the beautiful and the sacred in their disciples. Concerned with hesychasm or prayer of the heart of which the "Jesus Prayer" is the prime example, these writings instruct and exhort the Christian in the way of the prayer of the heart.*** Maloney, George, S.J. The Jesus Prayer. Pecos: Dove Publications, 1974. George Maloney is steeped in the Russian hesychasm tradition, and this little booklet is an invaluable introduction to this form of prayer. A Monk of the Eastern Church. On the Invocation of the Name of Jesus. Ox-ford: S.L.G. Press, 1970. Nearly every sentence of this little book is loaded with power. To really appreciate it one must live with it, almost devour it. The author proceeds very logically from an explana-tion of the form of the "Jesus Prayer" to the explication of the theological implications and nuances contained in the "Jesus Prayer." A Monk of the Eastern Church. The Prayer of Jesus. New York: Desclee, 1965. This is considered the ciassic guide to, and explanation of, the "'Jesus Prayer." V--Prayer: The Scriptural Approach: The Psalms by God and man. Von Balthasar, Hans Urs. Prayer. Paramus, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1961. Father Hans Urs Von Balthasar has divided prayer into three main sections: "The Art of Contemplation," "The Object of Contemplation," "Polarities in Contemplation." He approaches the subject in a very masterly fashion, applying copiously many texts drawn from Sacred Scripture. He re-orientates prayer by re-orientating man, reminding him that he is redeemed, a son of God. Bro, Bernard. Learning to Pray. Staten Island: Alba House, 1966. 546 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 Despite his many assertions of generous disposition and openness to God, man always seems to find an excuse not to pray. Expanding on the texts, "Lord, teach us how to pray," and "could you not watch one hour with Me?" Bro sets out to show that prayer is a very necessary and vital part of faith. Johnston, William. "The Mystical Reading of the Scriptures--Some Suggestions from Buddhism." Cistercian Studies, #1, 1971. Johnston maintains that while Scriptural exegesis has "boomed ahead with great 61an," the understanding of Scripture at a deeper level than scholarship has made little progress. He suggests that Christians can learn from Buddhism ways of understanding Scripture at a deeper level--primarily through the use of the Koan and mantras taken from Scripture. Worden, T. The Psalms are Christian Prayers. London: Chapman, 1962. The purpose of this book is to re-orient andto change the reader's outlook on the ideas of the Old Testament. It attempts, and succeeds in creating a new mentality in the reader, one which assents to the truth that the Psalms are Christian prayers. VI--Prayer: Mental: Lehodey, Dom Vitalis, O.C.S.O. The Ways of Mental Prayer. Dublin: M. H. Gill & Son, 1955. Noted for its simplicity and clarity of style, Lehodey has succeeded in writing an excellent guide for mental prayer. The accomplishment of Lehodey in this work should not be dis-missed or overlooked because of what appears to be, in recent decades,, a declining in-terest in mental prayer. Rohrbach, Peter Thomas. Conversation with Christ: An Introduction to Men-tal Prayer. 3rd Ed. Denville: Dimension, 1965. Modeled after the prayer of St. Theresa of Avila, Conversation With Christ makes one point: mental prayer is "conversation with Christ." The style is simple and lucid. This makes an excellent introduction to this form of prayer. VII--Prayer: The Oriental Approach: Johnston, William. Christian Zen. New York: Harper & Row, 1971. Almost entirely practical in nature, this little book tries to make sense of Zen for the Christian by explaining some of the methods which can lead to "enlightenment." (cf. The Still Point, a book by this author which gives a psychological explanation of Zen and a discussion of the meeting point of Christian mysticism and Zen.) (cf. Silent Music, another book by this author which treats of the science of meditation. He writes of the similarities of the deep states of consciousness in various religious traditions. A good scientific evaluation.) Stevens, Edward. Oriental Mysticism. New York: Paulist, 1973. This is an integrated treatment of mysticism which combines experience, theory, and practice. Treading Buddhism, Zen, Hinduism, Taoism, the author discusses the necessity of meditation and the need of Western man to develop this ancient art. Temple, Sebastion. How To Meditate~ Chicago: Radial Press, 1971. Prayer." A iThematic Bibliography / 547 The author, a former Hindu monk, provides here n.ot only a "'complete guide to yoga techniques," but also an excellent resource book foi" meditation. VIII--Prayer: Contemplative and Mystical: ' Anonymous. The Cloud of Unknowing and the Book of Privy Counseling. (ed. William Johnston) Garden City: Doubleday, 11973. This is the classic Western exposition of the Byzan~tine tradition of mysticism which found its richest form in the writings of the "Pseudo-Dionysius." Recognizing that God is beyond all our concepts, that the Lord of Heaven add Earth is clothed in Mystery, the "Cloud," formulates a pragmatic of prayer based upon this profound insight into the transcendence of God. The unknown author recognizes that the vitality of prayer must be maintained and that the very obscurity of faith can deter from prayer. Prayer here is not understood as a static act, however, and that is where the author recognizes that he may be misunderstood: it is an attitude of mind, a "looking towards God," a life-style and a modality of thinking and acting. The Introduction by William Johnston is scholarly and thorough, linking the Cloud with other prayer traditions. The Cloud itself is a tightly reasoned book and is meant rather as an encouragement to those who find themselves quite alone in their searching and pursuit of God. This aloneness, this "forgetting," this "unknowing" is part of the pursuit, and the profound advice of the author of the Cloud leads to a number of important convictions in the whole business of prayer.*** Borst, J.M.H.M. "A Method of Contemplative Prayer." Review for Religious 33:4 (July, 1974), 790-816. The author makes an orderly recommendation of different "phases" of contemplative prayer and strongly urges that if one wants to be contemplative, he must practice con-templative prayer regularly. Catherine of Sienna. The Dialogues of St. Catherine of Sienna. Westminster: Newman Press, 1950. St. Catherine's dialogues are a lucid commentary on a living relationship with God and in them she mediates and articulates the full implications of theology regarding man's relationship with God. She lays down the conditions for growth in a vibrant and vital relationship and by the use of stirring and striking imagery communicates something of the scope and texture of true holiness. What is especially significant is the positive view of human things and the role of personal initiative and responsibility. From the theological point of view, she articulates the reality of a "personal providence," the intimate care and concern that God has for each one per-sonally and the tension and dynamics of this personal Providence. The end result is the strengthening of the spirit in a profound and personal hope in God and the growing ability to read the living signs of this hope in one's own life. This is "mysticism" at its best, but a mysticism completely devoid of subjectivity, opening up the mind to the rich possibilities of a personal encounter with God. Unfortunately, the translation is a bit archaic, but the living thought of St. Catherine still comes through.*** Higgins, John J., S.J. Merton's Theology of Prayer. Spencer, Mass.: Cistercian Publications, 1971. 54B / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 This study of Thomas Merton's theology of prayer shows the total consecration to com-panionship with God which was Merton's legacy. It shows the unity of Merton's thought and development, the spiritual passion that characterized his early years and the develop-ment of that passion to something close to spiritual genius. Merton's ability to nourish his prayer-life from hundreds of different sources, and the blossoming of that prayer-life in his varied writings reveals the depth and dimensions of this remarkable spiritual per-sonality. Prayer, in all its richness and beauty, is shown to be the result of normal faith and normal intelligence--but as fully exploited in a personal pursuit of God. This is different than is to be found in some other studies of prayer, in that it shows the embodi-ment of a prayer tradition in the life of one man, a man for whom God and prayer were the totality of life. Merton, Thomas. The Ascent.to Truth. New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1956. The finest introduction in any language to the mystical theology of St. John of the Cross. A lucid and clear exposition of the whys of prayer in the Juan de la Cruz tradition, with distinctions and clarifications which make it a very valuable theological work. Perhaps the finest of Merton's early works in which he shows himself to be a superb and masterly theologian. Merton, Thomas. Contemplative Prayer. New York: Herder & Herder, 1969. In Merton's solid "educated English," he traces the steps to an "educated awareness of God," the cultivation.of which is the finest fruit of faith. His thought ranges from the lim-pid simplicity of the early monks to the most brilliant insights of contemporary theology. This is adult spirituality at its best, with the Merton mind showing the full human and personal implications of a life of prayer. In this book, Merton becomes the guru, the prayer-tutor, sharing his own convictions and prayer-life with a wider audience. Merton, Thomas. New Seeds of Contemplation. N.Y.: New Directions. in this book, Merton covers all the elements of the interior life building up to a solid con-templative life of prayer. This is a very good psychological description of the experience of contemplative prayer. It is a revision of one of Merton's early works, perhaps the most enduring of the early writings. Morales, Jose L. (editor) Contemplative Prayer according to the Writings of St. Theresa of Jesus and St. John of the Cross, Doctors of the Church. An excellent compilation of texts about contemplative prayer by two great con-templatives.*** Underhill, Evelyn. Practical Mysticism. New York: Dutton, 1960. This highly competent and well-known author in the area of mysticism has here succeeded in clearing up the nebulous, ethereal thinking that is often characteristic of things dealing with the mystical. Voillaume, Rene. The Need of Contemplation. London: Darton, 1971. Contemplation is ndcessary for man's very survival, and it is time for man to begin to cultivate a contemplative attitude by proceeding to the heart of things. Love will overflow from the reservoirs of each individual's living contact with Christ. Love begets love; love begets contemplatives. Whalen, Joseph, S.J. Benjamin: Essays in Prayer. New York: Newman, 1972. An initiation into the world of wonder is an appropriate description of Benjamin. Whalen perceives the contemporary human situation and introduces the reader to the con-templative act--to wonder. Prayer." A Thematic Bibliography / 549 IX--Prayer: The Holy Spirit: Bennet, Dennis & Rita. The Holy Spirit and You: A Study-Guide to the Spirit- Filled Life. Plainfield, N.J.: Logos Int, 1971. This is an especially thorough and helpful explanation of that facet of the experience of God which is often called "the Spirit experience." Well done. John of St. Thomas. The Gifts of the Holy Ghost. (tr. by Dominic Hughes, O.P.) New York: Sheed & Ward, 1951. This classic work, using the framework of the traditional teaching on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit, focuses on the action of God leading a person to freedom, to openness to God and to a deep life of prayer. The book shows how the gifts and action of the Spirit prepare a man for his encounter with God, giving him clarity of vision, flexibility and resilience, making fertile his freedom, and leading him to explore the wonder and magnitude of God. The book is difficult reading in places, but the implications of the teaching are critical to any real life of prayer. John of St. Thomas shows that the gifts are purification, education, insight and are the full blossoming of faith and a vibrant love of God. By the gifts, the seeker of God begins to share, in some small degree, in the abundance and plenitude of God. In the words of St. Thomas, the gifts are the deep interior currents of a life of prayer, giving to a man a certain kinship, a connaturality with Divine Things. They make a man a lover of God, the~, bring about a state of intimacy with God and Divine Things, and give a foretaste of beatitude. By tl~e gifts, a man exchanges a human standard for a Divine one, and begins to measure his life and his expectations by a Divine yardstick. They open wide the horizons of loving God, enabling a man to "'dream the im-possible dream." Sherrili, John. They Speak With Other Tongues. N.Y.: Pyramid, 1964. A very skeptical journalist relates his contact with and eventual experience of the gift of tongues. This is a valuable explanation of the not-too-long-ago unusual phenomenon which has become wide-spread and highly significant. X--Prayer: Best Sellers: Carothers, Merlon R. Prison to Praise. Plainfield, Logos, Int., 1970. Praise and thank God for all things, even for bad situations and circumstances. This is the basic tenet of a series of books on praise, written by this author. Carothers uses l Thess 5:16-17 as the basis for this form of prayer which has proven itself a powerful aid in revolutionizing people's lives. Parker, Dr. William F. and St. Johns, Elaine. Prayer Can Change Your Life. New York: Pocket Books, 1957. This best seller discusses "prayer therapy," a psychological experiment in prayer which helped forty-five people to grow to greater emotional wholeness and to gain peace of mind. For a good understanding of the nature of Western Mysticism, see "The Nature of Mysticism" by David Knowles in the Twentieth Century En-cyclopedia of Catholicism. ***It is to one's advantage to bring to this book some experience in prayer and especially an understanding of the spiritual, theological and philosophical milieu of the age in which the author wrote, in order to appreciate the full impact of the work. it is also to one's advantage to read this book under the guidance of a spiritual advisor. Models of Poverty Gerald R. Grosh, S.J. Gerald R. Grosh, in addition to teaching theology at Xavier University in Cincinnati, is a member of the staff of the Jesuit Renewal Center; P.O. Box 289; Milford, OH 45150. In his latest book, Models of the Church,~ Avery Dulles elucidates five models2 of the Church which he finds operative "in the minds of the faithful. He analyzes each one in terms of the advantages and disadvantages that each model has in aiding Christian living. Ultimately, Dulles says that the Church is a mystery and that no one model can adequately encompass a mystery. Rather, he states that the models are mutually complementary like the ¯ different shades and colors that blend together to create a total picture. The book is very freeing since it allows for various models and opens up other dimensions of the Church--especially for those persons who are locked into one framework. The aim of this article is to do for our notion of poverty what Dulles has done for our notion of the Church. In our time religious generally are uneasy about their practice of poverty. Often it seems that specific features of our practice of poverty can be amply justified if they are taken one by one. But the features taken all together, the total picture, clearly leave much to be desired. What is wrong? Where do we fail? Perhaps the failure in poverty, if indeed it is failure, results from a too exclusive concentration on one model of poverty, from our failure to let our own dominant model of poverty be balanced ade-quately by other models. It is the belief of this author that a clarification of the 1Avery Dulles, Models of the Church (Garden City: Doubleday and Company, inc., 1974). 2A model is an attitude of mind or a mental framework. It is a way of looking at and understand-ing a particular phenomenon, it points more to a structure of the mind than to a particular con-tent. 550 Models of Poverty / 551 models involved would facilitate the discussion as well as the choices that are made. I shall delineate seven models which 1 see operative in our discussions of poverty. I shall briefly describe each model, indicate the spiritual value which it strives to encompass, indicate its advantages and disadvantages, and list some practical suggestions which might be in accord with a given model. 1. Pnverty as Cnmmunitarian Sharing The call to religious life is a call to living the vows in community. Religious life witnesses to the experience of community as we share our lives together and work toward the common goal of preaching the good news of Jesus Christ. The vow of poverty, then, calls us to share not only our living together and working together but also our material goods. This is rooted in the experience of the early Church: "The whole group of believers was united, heart and soul; no one claimed for his own use anything that he had, as everything they owned was held in common" (Acts 4:32). This model of poverty as communitarian sharing points to the fundamental unity which we have as religious--namely, a unity of heart. We are all believers. We share a common vision of faith and hope. We are united in love. Each person's value is not what he owns or has, but who he is. So deep is our oneness that we live in community and share our possessions. The goal is the underlying unity of mind and heart. One of the advantages of this model is that it aims at eliminating differences between "rich and poor" and focuses on the equality of all. It at-tacks the roots of ownership which can so easily foster vanity and greed. Thus whatever is given to one is given to the whole community and goes to "the common barrel." The spiritual foundation for this mutual sharing of goods is the mutual care that the members of a given community have for one another. The disadvantage of this model is that it becomes more difficult to live as life becomes more complex. We know that we need certain things for apostolic use. How, then, does one regulate the quality and quantity of goods that are needed? How does one maintain the equality of all and the non-ownership of all? The traditional response t6 this dilemma has been to link the acquisition and use of goods with receiving permission for them from the superior. The underlying purpose of asking permission has been to aid our acting as non- . owners and to help free us from the power that is present in ownership. But it has been difficult for individuals not to compare what they have with what others have and therefore to justify their own acquisition of the same thing or of something else. It has been difficult for a superior to say "no" to one where he has said "yes" to another. Furthermore, critics of the system have pointed out that an adult makes his own decisions and that this practice has often seemed infantile. Also, as superiors so readily grant permission, the require-ment has come to be seen by many as a formality to be gone through or even ignored. It has also been difficult to draw a fine line between what one needs and what one wants. 552 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 In the judgment of this author, in so far as poverty has been linked to ask-ing permission for goods, it has failed--whether one blames the notion itself or the persons who have failed to live it. However, the model of poverty as com-munitarian living does have something to offer us today. The essence of the model is the mutual sharing of material goods in community. It would seem to preclude the private appropriation of goods (personal TVs, personal cars, etc.). It would also seem to preclude the free disposition of one's salary, e.g., the buying of books or equipment, travel, relaxation, or even almsgiving. 2. Poverty as Simplicity of Life- The second model of poverty is that of the frugal life-style or "simplicity of life." This model focuses clearly on poverty as a fact, i.e., material poverty. The spiritual foundation of simplicity of life is that it aids to singularity of pur-pose and locus--namely on the Lord and His work. Nothing else matters that much. This model of poverty is easily linked with the model of poverty as un-ion with the poor. Stated simply, this model of simplicity of life points to the fact that a poor man does not have a lot of material possessions or the free dis-position of a lot of money. The advantage of this model is that it can act as a deterrent or as a negative norm for how we spend our money. Does a poor person have a color TV or is he able to jet across the country, or have a stereo set? How often can the poor person or family afford steak? Lavish spending is seen as an insult to the poor who struggle for their food and their meagre existence. Such spending is also seen to imply contempt for human w~rk and the dignity of man involved in working hard for a day's pay. Also, as with the model of poverty as com-munitarian sharing, this model takes away the sense of power that is involved in the possession of goods and in the lavish disposition of one's finances. The advantage, then, of this model of poverty is that it keeps one mindful of his union with the poor Christ and honest in terms of what he spends. Its primary disadvantage is that it can cause one to be so absorbed in bookkeep-ing and penny-pinching that he loses the perspective of apostolic service. However, there are also other possible disadvantages that can accompany this model. Too great an emphasis on material things can lead to a pharisaism which overlooks the more important poverty of spirit. It can also result in divisiveness and criticism within communities as some will need more things than others to carry out their apostolic work. The particular way of living according to this model would call a person to be continually mindful of how his or her standard of life compares with' the poor. Such things as careful personal and community budgets, economical automobiles, buying articles on s.ale, adjusting budgets to meet emergencies, are evidences of the

Issue 27.4 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to l~vmw FOR I~LmmUS; 6~ Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3=I Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + 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 © 1968 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS at428 East Preston Street; Bahirnore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class post.age paid at Baltimore, Maryhmd. Single cop~es: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two )'ears; other countries: 55.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIE~,' FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REWEW vo~ RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REVIEW ~OR RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REview ro~ R~LIGIOGS; 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. JULY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 4 DAVID T. ASSELIN, s.J. Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment My purpose is to situate personal spiritual discernment in the context of faith-growth, that is, Christian matu-rity. From this viewpoint, to educate the faith is less a question of theological instruction than one of guided. spiritual experience. I am thinking of the teleioi of Hebrews 5:14, "the mat~[re who have their faculties trained by experience to discern between good and evil," an excellent summary of the Spirit's work of restoration out of the chaos which resulted from man's original attempt to determine good and evil for himself and on his own. The term could also be translated "the perfect," or, perhaps, "the personally fulfilled." Faith, throughout this discussion, should be under-stood in the sense of Vatican II's Decree on the At~osto-late of the Laity: Only by the light of'faith [the impressive word is "only"] and by meditation on the word of God, can one always and everywhere recognize God, in whom "we live and move and have our being," seek His will in every event, see Christ in all men whether they are close to us or strangers, make correct judgments about the true meaning and value of temporal things, both in themselves and in their relationship to man's final goal. ¯ Ex.cept for meditation on Scripture nothing is said in this text about the means of maturing the faith. The Council simply outlines the content of adult faith. What I should like to explore is an indispensable element in the process of maturation of this content. The truth of the matter is that faith is not primarily a source of answers to our questions but rather our answer to the Lord's question; "Lovest thou me?" In other words, I take faith not as quest for answers (to our in-tellectual problems) nor as a set of answers (to the ques-tions of "others), but as the answer "of the whole person 4, David T. Asselin, S.J., is spiritual di-rector at Regis Col-lege; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willow-dale, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 27, 1968 581 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 to the Lord inserting His Person and Spirit, and thus articulating Himself as the divine Word, in human life. My general proposition is that at the very heart of growing in faith we find, necessarily, a refinement and increase of the grace of spiritual discernment. Without discernment there is no growth in faith. Spiritual dis-cernment, therefore, is less a question of being intellec-tually clever than of being graced and called by the Lord to grow in knowledge of Him. All things serve the Lord of history; all persons are called to be the vehicles of His creative will; all men willy-nilly serve the God of human history's purposes. Otherwise, they would not be introduced into ongoing incarnational history. However, not everyone, so far, seems to hear the call to know the Lord he se~wes, to know Him as a friend does a friend, as a son his father, a wife her husband. To know Him is the mark of spiritual growth and maturity. Faith-growth is God's work. Man can do no better than collaborate with the divine initiative in his spiritual life. This seems to imply several things. First of all, as the spiritual point of departure, it de-mands an openness to being moved by God. This is the key to obedience as well as to all spiritual encounter. The fundamental Christian attitude, then, is that of a listener, one who is open to divine initiatives whatever they might be. It is radically and essentially a prayer-attitude, one that continues, or ought to continue, be-yond prayer into the apostolate and every other work or experience. The second implication is a need for some continual scrutiny and reflection in regard to the experiences inte-rior to 6neself in prayer and in all life's situations. This self-examination is needed not merely to lay hold of juridically impt.~table faults but more importantly to grow in habitual discrimination and discernment-by-faith of the various, interior experiences and personal spiritual calls--impulses, inclinations, attractions, re-pugnances, assaults--that occur much more frequently than perhaps we either admit or spiritually discern. The third demand is a growing ability to recognize and respond only to those experiences which are dis-cernibly frotn the Lord. Here, in the area of concrete affectivity, are the contacts with the Lord's divine initia-tives guiding the individual person or community. The difference between personal spiritual direction and spir-itual government of a community involves a difference in the mode of spiritual scrutiny and recognition of the divine will in the concrete. Whatever accidental dif-ference may emerge in the mode of reflection on ex-perience, both the community scrutiny and the ifldi- .vidual scrutiny lead ultimately to the possibility of a response which we may call "rightly ordered," a direct response to inner vocation that gives first place to answer-ing the.Lord's question, "Lovest thou me?" In brief, these three requirements---openness to spir-itual experience, reflection on it, and response-ability to it--are basic elements in the growth of personal sensi-tivity to the initiatives of the Lord, or spiritual discern-ment. Whether on the community or individual level, in order to achieve government, spiritual direction, or faith-growth, the cooperation of several is required. The director 'and the directed, the superior and the subject, the spiritual father and his "son,'~ must both be. humbly alert in a collaboration of listening to the Lord's Spirit~ The basic relationship of spiritual direction and govern-ment is a structured team-work of director and directed in discerning the will of the Lord in concrete~ situations. Both, then, must be continually subordinated to the Lord's Spirit and His word as the principal director. The hierarchy of subordination, in the context of spir-itual direction, is that of a human directo]: who by his calling is the servant of a relationship growing between the one directed and the Spirit of the Lord. In a sense, then, the human director takes his stand, spiritually, in the lower, not the higher, place. In this relationship of spiritual direction, destined to serve the Lord's creative work in the individual and in the ~ommunity, the responsibility falls first on the Lord Himself, secondly on the group or the individual' called to Him, and finally on the servant of their relationship, the spiritual director. If there" is any subordination to human direction in responding to God, this sub-ordination must be established by the Lord and guaran-teed. by Him (or by a convenant or pact freely entered into on the part of the subject). Growth in discernment of the action of God's Spirit is, then, the thing which truly matures and estab-lishes in the faith a spiritual person or community. An authentic spiritual community is one which can be described in terms of its real awareness of being moved and directed by the Holy Spirit, on many levels. This awareness is not just found vaguely throughout the com-munity but according to the clearly defined functions of properly subordinated individuals. As we find in the Gospels, to be great in the community° of the Lord is to be the least and servant of all. The work of the one wh~)se responsibility it is to direct others is a work of assisting them, as individuals and as a group, to hear and respond better to the Lord's initiatives in every ,situa-tion. This direction or government is a spiritual thing pre2 ÷ 4, Maturity and ¯ Discernment ~VOLUME 27, 1968 583 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 cisely to the extent that it is collaboration with the Lord's Spirit, the ultimate director and superior. The Lord's indications, leads, initiatives, must be discerned as coming from Him and then followed, if a man is to serve the Lord in a way befitting man, that is by knowing the Lord he serves. There is, then, a need today to respect the importance and centrality of interior, personal, spiritual experience without undue fear of false mysticism or of the folly of the enthusiasts, quietists, alumbrados. Moreover, we must investigate the area of spiritual experience today because the Church is not only inviting ns but requiring us to do so, in the words of one who cries out: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches" (Ap 2:11). The word "maturity" has been aptly defined by the Swiss psychologist, Jean Piaget, who made extensive studies of children in their process of development. Mh-turity, he found, is simply an increase in the capacity to differentiate in a practical manner interior experiences and operations. If we adopt this definition, then the life of faith in a man is mature to the extent that it involves a capacity to reflect upon, understand, discriminate be-tween, and respond to, the inner spiritual stimuli that he experiences within himself. The Lord's Personal Call It might be well here to suggest some relationships between general law or principle on the one hand, and individuated personal experience on the other. To di-vorce the two is to fall into legalism and moralism, or into a kind of situation-ethic. The problem is how to relate these poles. It is true that general law and principle rightly and concretely circumscribe each personal situation. But they do so only to the extent that this situation is common to all men, and not proper to this person as such. I mean that the situations of Peter and of Paul are cor-rectly guided by general principle only insofar as Peter and Paul are men, therefore impersonally considered, not insofar as they are distinguished from each other by name. Peter qua Peter is more than just a man. In this regard permit me to draw attention to the per-fect way of knowing a man, intimately and personally, which is the Lord's way of knowing him, that is, by name. We read in Isaiah 43:1: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine." Or again, in John 10:3: "The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them forth." Scripture continually reveals the personal and intimate knowledge that the Lord has of each of His creatures: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you" (Jer 1:5); "Lord, you have pi:obed me and you know me, you understand my thoughts from afar, with all my ways you are familiar, even~ before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it, where can I go from your Spirit, from your presence where can I flee" (Ps 138:139). Just as it is clear that the Lord knows and calls each man by name, it is equally clear that man becomes spir-itually mature to the extent that he can recognize and acknowledge who it is that is calling him, responding to . the Lord by name in all things: The days are coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the House of Israel and the House of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers the day I took them by the hand to lead them forth from the land of Egypt. For they broke my covenant and I had to show myself their master, says the Lord. But this is the covenant which I will make with the House of Israel after those days, says the Lord. I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer will they have need to teach their friends and kinsmen how to know the Lord. All, the least to the greatest, shall know Me, says the Lord, for I will forgive their evil doing and remember their sin no more (Jer 31:31ff.). It seems clear, here and elsewhere in Scripture, that God is establishing with each human person as well as with His community a new spiritual relatiqnship of tremendous value which exceeds the expectations of authentic Chris-tian personalism today. In order to discover the meaning of Peter qua Peter, and of Paul as unique and distinct from Peter, in the context of universal salvation history (which, after all, is the task in which spiritual directors and superiors are, I believe, primarily intended to assist), it is necessary to discover the unique meaning, value, and orientation that is proper to Peter's spiritual situation precisely as distinct from Paul's, before the Lord. By what kind of logic is this sort of knowledge attained? Over and above the universal validity of general principle and law, Peter, as an unrepeatable, unique individual, must be guided by a logic that is other than the logic of general principle and universal law. In other words, there are two kinds of logic. One logic, which .we might call conceptual or proposi-tional, is the basis for reasoning in universally valid terms. The point of departure, the principle or the foun-dation from which the successive insights and conclu-sions proceed according to this logic will be an axiom. It begins therefore with a self-evident proposition. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 585 D. T. As~elin, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 Logic o[ the Concret~ .There is another logic, however, the Jogic of con-crete, unique, and individual events and persons (which, inCidentally, is the w, ay God apprehends things). Here, . the human foundation or first principle will no longer be an axiom but an experience. As the logic of conceptual knowledge is based on axiomatic, propositions, so the logic of concrete knowledge is based on concrete ex-perience. Mature faith-response to the Lord's word can emerge only from personal encounter with Him. I think it is the job of superiors and spiritual directors to point to those authentic experiences whereby the Lord is communicating Himself to individuals and communi-ties, thus guiding their spiritual growth and governing their development as Christian persons. This concret~ knowledge of the Lord and of His ways. can only be had, as the Vatican Council proposes, "by meditation on the word of God." Faith-growth is inseparable from prayer-life. Both are areas of fundamental concern to all who are called not only by the Lord's, "Lovest thou me?" but also by His, "Feed my lambs and sheep." What, therefore, the individual as such ought to de-cide in the area of liberty and private responsibility cannot be fully determined by general principle or law. It is of vital importance, however, that what is decided be determined with spiritual certitude, not merely by guesswork, accident, or whim. This is precisely why reliable, that is, mature, faith-discernment of interior experiences and, events is important. Otherwise, we run a risk of considering these experiences as mere psycho-logical phenomena, avoiding the whole world of con-crete events in function of which spiritual discernment and maturity can take place. Rather, we must approach the world of private and group e~perience as filled with the glorious presence (shekinah) of the Lord, the indications of His will and concrete providence, and perhaps .the presence of an adverse spirit. Hence, it is only a faith-awareness and dis-cernment of these events which can lead to an under-standing of the individual or community relationship to the Lord, an estimation of their spiritual maturity, and a reliable ifi~rease in their personal freedom and re- + sponsibility. + No concrete choice can be well ordered in the faith + unless it coincides with the determination~ of the Lord 'of all human history. To be aware of these things in the concrete is the only way for a man to be "with it" spir-itually, or "where the action is." To be with the Lord of history, who revealed Himself as being so continually and intimately with us, we must be in personal corn- munication with Him in all things. Therefore, the particular experience that functions as a self-evident first principle for the logic of concrete individual knowl-edge is nothing short of a real experience of the Lord communicating Himself and uttering His invitation and call directly to a pers9n for his u.nique situation, Growth in discernment presupposes several elements. There must be, first of all, inner experience; second,. repeated reflection, on this experience; third, a dis-crimination between various experiences, not from the pbint of view of mere natural causalities (psychological or otherwise), but from that of personal faith in the Lord of concrete history; fourth, an evaluation of these interior experiences from this faith-standpoint; finally, the ca-pacity to receive and obey those movements which are discernibly from the Lord, or.at least clearly not inspired by an adverse spirit. This is the only way to be with the Lord, and where His action is, in reality. Only thus can a man truly grow as a mature person and find. fulfillment. He must find his own personal relationship with the Creator and Lord of all things, and place himself at His service unre-servedly. Experience, then, of encounter and contact with .the Lord, of listening to and of being guided by Him di-rectly, must lie within the capacities of ordinary Chris-tian faith-maturity. Otherwise, how could an adult Chris-tian enjoy an authentic spiritual calling? The only way a man can be divinely called to a personal vocation is "bY name," which means by a unique and personal en-counter with tbe Lord in terms of incommunicable inner experience. Surely our adult Christians, in the light of Vatican II, are not merely destined to serve the Lord, but intimately to know the Lord they serve. Surely their service must flow from a personal.knowledge of Him, a concrete knowledge which cannot be grasped from the-ology or from psychology or even from the mere absence of "impediments to vocation," but from personal ex-perience and prayer. There is question here of something mystical, at least on an elementary level, in the ordinary faith-growth of a Christian--something entailing immediate conscious con-tact with the person of the Lord. Hence, we confront today a mysticism that is to be recognized and fostered within the ordinary providence of God's grace for anyone called to know Him. This kind of knowledge is what specifies the relationship between. God and His people, God and the individual, in the whole Judaeo-Christian history of vocation. I submit that today the discernmentof spirits, as it is called, is the most relevant focal, point in our spiritual ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 587 ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS heritage, because it is the concrete., logic of personal spiritual knowledge of las cosas internas, the "interior things," the life of inner spiritual experience. Only a refined spiritual discernment will guide a man to mature self-possession, freeing him from inner disorder in his choosing so that he may enjoy a growing, divine en-counter of faith in all circumstances. In this way, his faith-awareness will envelop, enlighten, guide everything else in his life, so that he will not be able to love any-thing ~r anyone save "in the Lord." It is only within this world of each man's personal experience that his faith-response can be given to the evocative word of the Lord. " Today.in this age of personalism, of self-discovery, of fulfillment, of communication and dialogue, there is a dyifig interest, in any gospel that might limit itself to spiriyual absolutes and generalities, to moralism or trite devotionalism, just as there is a reaction against the spiritual anonymity of the" "lonely crowd" and. the impersonality of the "organization man" in our "secular city.:' Such-labels indicate' the personal alienation that threatens urbanized man today. We all know the reac-tion formation which arises against this situation, offering a purely secular salvation in terms of this-worldly ful-fillment of man's four basic desires: his desire for security, affection, variety, and esteem. Man's real salvation today, however, according to our Christian world-view based on the 'new covenant announced in Jeremiah 31, 31 ft., entails being radicallygraced by God in such a way that the divine presence and will can be known and hcknowl- ' edged personally by each man. Confronted exclusively with general principles and laws, or the enunciation of general truths based upon them which do not focus on each man as a unique per-son but necessarily treat him merely as another instance of numerically multipliable human nature undistin-guished by any name, modern man will remain deaf to ¯ his true personal call to greatness, spiritually immature. If the Christian logic of concrete personal vocation is ignored today, there is a growing danger that tomorrow both Peter and Paul will search for their identity out, side the authentic Christian view of things., perhaps against it. It is only through the gradual and inevitably painful education of a man's faith-view of concrete particulars, that is, the education of his capacity spiritually to dis-cern concrete reality within himself or others, that he can be entrusted with the responsibility of personally determining the steps and measures which bear on his own salvation or that of others. ~ We are far from endorsing, therefore, an undiscerning confidence and blind acceptance of everything that a man spontaneously is inclined to think best. According to the view of some, everything is acceptable or good which inwardly attracts or moves a man, as long as it is not a clear inclination to sin. As a matter of fact, if it were all that easy it would hardly be worth discussing. Spiritual responsibility is insured only by an authentic growth of the capacity to discern the personal word and will of Christ for onself or for another. This merely re-affirms the central Christian position which is one of lis-tening to and following the word of God addressed to man: "Blessed is hewho hears the word of God and keeps it"; or again: "My mother and brothers and sisters are those who hear the word of God and keep it." To some degree or other all of us have this problem of faith-maturity. Therefore, we must consider maturity not as a terminal achievement but rather as maturation, a continuum of emerging awareness of interior en-counter and personal vocation initiated by the Lord. All this applies to community experience as well as to that of the individual, and it includes in its ambit the beginner as well as the teleios in the sense of Hebrews 5:14, "the one who has faculties trained by experience to discern good from evil." This points to faith-guided discernment as the cor-rection of Adam's fault who attempted, :according to Genesis 3, on his own and independently of the Lord's personal indication, to "eht of the fruit of the tree of. the knowledge of good and evil," that is, to discern for himself independently of God what was good and evil in the concrete. Hence any education in the discernment of right from wrong must emerge from the radical faith-position of one who is a listener to the Lord: "All that is not of faith is sin" (Rom 14:23). Structure and Individuation We are always confronted with the necessity of ad-mitting the young into formation structures in such a way as to allow for varying degrees of spiritual maturity already achieved and to foster further personal growth in the knowledge of God's will and love by discernment. Moreover, at the beginning of the process of formation there are two factors polarized, which, I feel, need to undergo considerable change in their basic relationship .by the end of that formative process. We can label those two factors "structure" and "in-dividuation." Structure, here, means a generally pre-dictable behavior pattern within which the individual and the group are directed to maturity in their en-counter with the Lord. For beginners there is need of a ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment. ,~.~ VOLUME 27~ 1968" 589 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~90 meaningful and reasonable overall structure in which the young candidates are .introduced to spiritual re-sponsibility. This structure will be more extensive and more detailed in virtue of the greater need for assistance and protection required in the period of initial growth. By individuation, in the context of formation, I mean everything that falls under the general heading of per-sonal admonition, directive, prescription, correction, or guidance. It is my general i~npression that we have not been afflicted so'much with overstructure in formation (we have had much structure but I think much is needed to ¯ .begin the process of faith-growth) as with a kind of rev-erence for this structure which tends to find maturity in terms of structural function and hence to preserve initial structures unchanged throughout religious life. ¯ I also believe we have been afflicted with an anxious protection and maintenance of this structure by over-stricture, so that the individual has been given to feel that the structure is an absolute value and that his least exterior failure or fault will be judged as maximal when, in fact, it might be objectively and spiritually minimal. A process of destructuring must occur. But, more im-portantly, we ought to begin formation with complete gentleness, patience, and the allowance for personal uniqueness, in the application of strictures within the required structure. With structure and individuation polarized in this way at the point of departure of formation, let me. degcribe the general evolution .which hopefully might occur with respect to the relationship between structure and individuation over the years, By its end a period of formation ought to reveal much less structure (because we' can presume that with discernment the spiritual adult has become more personally aware of his Lord and has achieved a more refined sensitivity to the promptings of the Holy Spirit) and much more stricture (because he has grown in spiritual sensitivity, in his capacity for self-direction, for discerning the Lord in all things by faith and love, and is consequently more accountable, that is, responsible, for these things). No community ought to aim at being completely un-structured or informal as long as men are mortal and original sin still, affects their motivation, decisions, and efforts. But I believe much failure in formation is due to the initial overemphasis of both stricture and struc-ture, producing a reaction against¯ both. We often end up with serious:difficulties not so much with the young as the old and religiously "formed," who, when it is safe to throw off structures, will no longer listen to stric-ture either. This, of course, reveals that their formation left them spiritually immature. How difficult it is at times to tell a man who has been~ twenty-five years in religious life what to do or not to do. It is not easy, if he is obstinate. It is not easy if he feels: "Now that I have gone through that formation bit, you don't push me around." I think a lot of our scandal emerges precisely when the process of destructuring takes place reveali.ng little faith-education or spiritual maturity to fill up the vac-uum created by ~his process. It shows that no growth in spiritual responsibility has.supplanted the firmness of protective structures. By the end of our periods of formation, when the col-lective factors have been diminished on the level of structure, there ought to emerge a deeper spiritual rela-tionship with the superior, confessor, personal director, on the individual level, that is, on the level of concrete prescription, spiritual direction, and discernment. I feel that little faults in mature persons are much more serf-otis than little faults in beginners. Perhaps we ought to increase the importance of private direction for the ma-ture, not only in the sense of reprehension and correction of faults, but also of more tailored discernment of the will of the Lord. Existentially, this continuum of for-mation ought to be a movement, from external law to the interior law of love. , St. Paul had insight int~ such freedom. He claims that we are freed by learning to love like Christ. He does not mean by freedom that we are no longer bound by ex-ternal law, but rather that we are no longer driven, cap-tured, or urged by anything except by divine love: "Caritas Christi urget nos." To the degree that mature Christian love existentially directs a man's choices, his need for external law and direction is lessened. Only.by the "strength of the Lord's personal initiati~ces of love in his regar~l wi!l he be stimulated to respond to the Lord's word calling him to share responsibility for his own salvation and that of others. This call in its fullness is identical with the vocation to enter the paschal mystery of the Lord's suffering service, death, and resurrection. Hence, we can say with Vatican II that it is "only by faith and by meditation on the word of God" that we can find God's will in anything, discover Christ in our fellow man, or evaluate temporal things in their true light, that is, in the light of salvation history into which all things have happily been assumed by the risen Lord. There is no possibility of mature faith-growth unless, between the beginning and the end of its spectrum, there is inserted personal, incommunicable experience of en-trance into the mystery of Christ's dying and rising. The problem today is a growing tendency to skip the + + + Maturity and Discernment" VOLUME 27, '1968 591 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 passion and death in an attempt to establish the Resur-rection. We need more than ever a spiritual awareness of the contemporary dimensions of the passion and death, such as you find in St. Paul who identifies the mystery of Christ's nekrosis with his own experiences of suffering, persecution, and rejection in the apostolate and. ministry . of the word. The word "mystery" in this context means a human experience of the Word made flesh such as we imply when we speak of the "mysteries" of the rosary Or when we contemplate the "mysteries of the public life of Jesus." The definitive mystery of the Word made ttesh is His redemptive experience of dying and rising, which is the matrix of all Christian formation and maturity. Growth and formation involve the development of a conscious love relationship with the Lord. Lovers are those who share intimately each other's experiences of joy and suffering and know by experience the depth and the breadth and the mystery of the unique other. The Lord has this kind of knowledge of us--a knowledge which can become the friendship of .mutual love only if we dwell also in this kind of knowledge of Him. Therefore, our entrance into His mystery of passion and death implies, in the first place, a growth in our aware-ness of His complete entrance into our mystery, His complete appropriation of our personhood and life ex-perience. Neither this awareness nor the experience of entry into His mystery are vague abstractions. His definitive entrance into our present life was by a very real dying and rising. It is this experience of His that has become the key to our faith-awareness of Him. Thus, His suffer-ing, dying, rising, unfold anew in our life experience because of our intimate, mutual involvement with Him, revealed by faith. Conclusion The real spiritual theology of action, of renewal, and of labor (including the labors of the apostolate and min, istry of the word), centers on this contemporary sharing in Christ's redemptive death and resurrection. You will find this everywhere in St. Paul, for instance in I Corin-thians 1:3 ft. and 4:7 ff: "The sufferings of Christ abound in us, the consolation in you"; or again: "We are con-tinually carrying about in our bodies the dying state of Jesus so that the living state of Jesus may be manifest in our bodies too." So, too, Paul speaks of the personal mandate through Christian baptism of entering into the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection, which implies finding the dimensions of His mystery as it is realized concretely in one's own. This Will involve a personal sharing of the emptying-out or kenosis of Christ, an experience of hu-man b~irrenness, agony, and dereliction out of which alone can emerge the marvelous truthfulness of the Lord rising in our personal world, today. I do not think this is going to be appreciated if it is merely described, as I do here. It is something that must be learned from experience under the guidance of that kind of spiritual discernment that calls a thing by its right name, as it is occurring in a man's experience. No natural terms or categories are sufficient, to capture the meaning of this experience of.entry into the mystery of Christ that is ours. Hence, the language of faith is the principal language to be used in spiritual direction and discernment. Nobody can accomplish for me this work of collabora-tion with Christ to which I am personally called. With-out personal inner encounter I have knowledge only of a kind of "unknown God," which really is no knowl-edge at all; and the danger of not knowing God is of be-coming adokimos, someone of an undiscerning mind, who knows created reality by experience without dis-cerning the Lord and Creator. This was the failure of the pagans according to Romans 1:18 ft., where Paul degcribes their decline through various stages of degrada-tion because they were unable to discern the will and love of the Lord of all creation. The human conversation with God was broken off in the garden of Eden, not because God stopped speaking to man but because man stopped listening to God. All sacred history recounts the restoration not only in the individual but in the city of man of the ability to listen to the word olz God articulated in the contemporary events and realities of each successive age, as in a con-tinuing kaleidoscope of the Lord's presence articulated in the eternal '~today" of man's relationship to his Lord. The builders of the tower of Babel were dispersed by God because they attempted to build the city on their own, without His initiative, His word. Abraham, in the next chapter, is the one in whom the listening to God's word historically begins to be restored. Eventually, the city image of Babel in Chapter 11 of Genesis, the city which is almost a bad word in theearly parts of Scrip-ture, becomes the very end-time symbol of the awareness of God's intimate presence and conversation in Apoc-alypse 21, where the new city created by God, the new Jerusalem, needs neither temple nor source of light other than God Himself and his Son the Lamb. Eventually, the Lord who is Father and the Lamb will themselves be both temple-of worship and source of light for the city of man. This symbol marks the terminal point of + + + Maturity and Discernment VOLUME "27, 1968 593 + ÷ ÷ D. T.'Asselin, REVIE~FOR RELIGIOUS community salvation. If you read Apocalypse 21, you will find that the individual relationship to the Lord emerges as perfect along with the destructured com-munity relationship to the Lord: "He who overcomes shall possess these things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my son" (Ap 21:7). There is no opposition, then, between the community-growth and individual fulfillment. We reach full person-hood in the community of the Lord's people by sharing an awareness of God's personal presence and glory. We celebrate this in our daily Eucharist. We announce these Christian facts of life and we promote them, there. We increase and grow in our realization of them by listening privately and together to the word of God, and together and in private responding wholeheartedly. In conclusion I should like to indicate a fundamental criterion by which the authenticity of faith-growth and spiritual discernment must. always be measured. The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who lis-tens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can discern the word and will of the Lord mani-fested to ,him, he must respond with all the Pauline "obedience of faith." Obedience always implies an attitude of listening, signified by the Latin ob-audire and Greek hupo-akouo. It is the attitude of receptivity, passivity, and poverty of one who is always in need, radically dependent, con-scious of his creaturehood. Freedom, faith-growth, and spiritual maturity must always begin with fundamental obedience to the Lord's laws, directives, and providence for the individual and the community. The evolution of faith to spiritual adulthood is measured not by neglecting or escaping these basic divine dispositions so as to be no longer bound by them, but rather by transcending external laws and prescriptions so as to be bonnd more deeply and intimately by the greater demands of an internal law uttered in the heart. One is always bound by general law and principle and by external authority legitimately exercised, but one can transcend this dimension as the motive of response to the Lord to the degree that one can discern and obey the internal law of love imprinted in the heart by the Spirit, establishing the new covenant announced by Jeremiah 31:31 ft. Bound by external law and authority, our faith-growth consists in being moved by the internal: "Caritas Christi urget nosl" No internal discernment of the Lord's will and vocation is valid if it disobeys or degtroys the Lord's external dispositions exercised by legitimate auo thority and institution. There is only one Spirit breath-ing on many levels where and how He wills. The authentic maturity of faith by spiritual discern-anent will manifest itself in a fourfold reconciliation of man, matching the fourfold human conflict introduced by man's primitive disobedience: a reconciliation (1) with the Lord in a Spirit of prayerful sonship crying "Abba," (2) within oneself by the peace that replaces the shame of guilt, (3) with one's neighbor by the love that replaces anger and fear, (4) and with ktisis or physical creation by a resurrection. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 ". . 595 BERNARD LEE, S~M. The Spring Wants to Come: A Study in Community ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard Lee, S.M., is on the fac-ulty of St. Mary's High School; 4701 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 6311 I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 Introduction I had originally intended to cast these introductory remarks into footnotes in very brief form. But a discus-sion and very helpful critique with members of my communi.ty suggested the importance of beginning with two observations that appear necessary for keeping the discussion in the" right context. The first point is this: what the article is not is a comparison between art and community life in which certain aesthetic principles are analogically applied to community. Beauty is a transcendental, and it is a real characteristic-of all that is. There are degrees of beauty and kinds of beauty. It can be recognized and experi-enced. Like many of the practical items we use and need, community is a practical response to a need: psychologi-cal needs stemming from our social nature, pragmatic needs for coping with the world around us. But over and above this, both the practical items and the practical community are capable of being works of art, pieces of beauty, as well. The application of asesthetic principles to community life is, therefore, a direct application of principles that are, in the philosophical sense, proper to it. This second introductory remark might seem a bit academic for the discussion that follows. But it has to do with basic presuppositions that govern the thought of the article. The characterization of beauty that I use is based very much upon the thgught of Alfred North Whitehead, the whole of his thought, but in particular his treatment of beauty in Adventure of Ideas. What is presumed is a world of reality whose nature is to be in process. Process is at the heart of the way things are. Process is reality. And an important qualifidation of this process is that it is evolutionary; it is directed to the creation of higher: forms and modes of existence. In Aristotelian thought the possibility of changing neces-sarily implies imperfection: "All change is by its nature an undoing" (Physics, IV, 222b). But in process philos-ophy, change is actually constitutive of reality. Becoming is no longer inferior to being. This obviously affects a philosophy of beauty--and therefore a philosophy of community--because process will be constitutive of beauty as well as of being. This is not the place to attempt a further characteri-zation of process philosophy. May I instead retommend the brief but superb introduction Charles Hartshorne wrote for Browning's Philosophers of Process, and the excellent second part of Eulalio Baltazar's Teilhard and the Supernatural which treats in more detail "The Phi-losophy of Process." The implications of all ttiis for theology and spirituality are immense--so immense that it almost seems ludicrous to toss off the observation so casually. I would like to conclude these introductory re-marks with some lines from Rilke: What keeps you from projecting His birth into times That are in the process of becoming, And living your life Like a painful and beautiful day In the history of a great gestation? For do you not see How everything that happens Keeps on being a beginning Since beginning is in itself Always so beautiful?. These very days Of your transition Are perhaps the time When everything in you Is working at him. And think that the least We can do is to make His becoming Not more difficult for Him Than theearth ¯ Makes its for the Spring When it wants to come. --Rainer Maria Rilke Community The history of humanity is the history of an evolution towards a more finely wrought community. The evolu-tion is not unmarked by failures, neither in the past nor now. But progress has been steady. And higher com-munity has normally been achieved when the demands 4, 4, ÷ Community VOLUME 27, 597 ÷ ÷ Bernar~ I=~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 of new social conditions have been responded to crea-tively. Today is a day of new demands, and we are on the verge of higher community if we can bring to those demands an adequately creative response. The movement towards the perfection of community has always been a part of human history, but a new inner urgency is communicated to the movement in Christ who calls men to brotherhood in God's love: "This solidarity must be constantly increased until that day on which it will be brought to perfection. Then, saved by grace, men will offer flawless glory to God as a family beloved of God and of Christ their brother" (gaudium et spes, § 32). In this discussion we would like to deal with the dynamics of building community. And here dynamics must bear the full weight of its meaning; for the evolutionary nature of community among men neces-sarily implies movement and change, trial and error, mutual tensions and continual interactions. The para-dox is that these factors are not manifestations of rest-lessness and caprice, but are the only basis for in-tensified solidarity. There are many valid points of departure for a dis-cussion of community. Our point of departure Will be aesthetic. It is peculiar to man, of all earth's creatures, to recognize beauty, to be moved and exhilarated by it. Because the quest for beauty and the response to it are both deeply human and deeply humanizing, we ought to be conscious of the beauty of community life that we work towards. We must even make that beauty a conscious aim--for it goes way beyond simply making community through the common task of meeting practi-cal exigencies; it calls us to create community. Throughout this discussion we will be thinking es-pecially of "community" in religious life. But the prin-ciples should be valid and operative within any social structure. The plan of this discussion is as follows. We will first talk about beauty and the degrees of harmony that mark it (and also that mark community life). Then we will try to show how greater intensity is possible in beauty (and how this is related to the perfection of community life). Then, from the psychological point of view of man's enjoyment of beauty, we will discuss the "move-ment" that is demanded by human appreciation of beauty (and the "movement" that is demanded for a constant human satisfaction with community life). I can recall having been asked for a reaction to some piece of architecture or other, and having replied that while I didn't really think it was great, it was at least pleasing and didn't jar. That something "isn't jarring" is an acknowledgement of at least a minor form of beauty, an absence of elements that would disturb the harmony. There are many elements in an art work (color in painting, rhythm, tone, and harmony in music) that might be independently quite pleasing, but which to-gether in certain combinations inhibit beauty. It is pos-sible to juxtapose two brilliant colors so that when they are together the b,rillance of neither comes through fully, though alone each would be striking. In this case there is a mutual inhibition that keeps either color from rising to the strength proper to it. It is likewise possible in music to counter two rhythms ~o each other in suchwise that neither is discernible; of course, a counterplay of two rhythms might well put each of the rhythms in bolder relief and make them easier to ap-preciate. In the first case, the mutual incompatibility of two rhythms is not only inhibitive of beauty, the two elements are actually destructive of each other. A minor form of beauty, oi: pleasingness, then, consists in the absence of elements that are either destructive of one another, or that keep each other from rising to the strength proper to each. This same aesthetique applies to community. When the fact of community is the result of the juxtaposition. of certain individuals within the same house, and not much more than that, the minor form of beauty just described.is probably the limit of communitarianbeauty available. There is a certain smoothness and harmony that results from not having personalities that are to-tally incompatible, and from having personalities that are enough alike (or have been made so by the repres-sion of differences) that they do not inhibit each other member from "being himself." The walls of a living room may be painted a 'very pleasing color and may provide quite a satis[actory experience. But if the walls are done in several colors, and if furnishings are chosen which blend and con-trast, much attention has to be given to composition. Two colors which cannot be tolerated next to each other might, in composition with a third and fourth color, give a heightened aesthetic experience not possible with the minor beauty of the one-color room. For this height-ened aesthetic experience derived from a contrast of contents, composition becomes increasingly important. For each element must stand in relation to every other element as well as to the whole. This is the only con-dition under which different elements can, by virtue of their very differences, not simply coexist juxtaposed, but become a truly powerful experience together. And there is a corollary to this. Not only does the individual element help heighten the aesthetic value of the compo- + + ÷ Community VOLUME 27, ~.968 ,599 + 4. 4. Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS sition as a whole, but the whole itself ~s a setting for the individual element enhances the individual element. The whole uses and profits from that which is most unique in the individual element. It is what is different about this individual element that heightens the effect" of good composition. But that difference only becomes valuable and desirable in this setting of effective con-trast. Alone it is. well, just different. Again, ~his aesthefique applies to community living. A more intense community experience is possible through effective contrasts of personalities. This can only be a reality if ther6 is a community consciousness directed toward the creation of such a "composition." A minor form of beauty attained simply through the absence of jarring elements does not put upon "relationship" the premium it has in the heightened aesthetic experience towards which we work. "Relationship" is the basis of composition, and it requires conscious and deliberate effort to bring it off. By conscious effort we cannot mean a belabored preoccupation with improving or building interpersonal bonds--that is almost doomed to failure by the artificiality that would destroy what can only be fully natural, or else not be at all. But it does mean being quite conscious of the fact that differ-ences between us are the seed of greater community beauty. It does mean consciously and openly and hon-estly dealing with differences rather than shu~ing them under the carpet in favor of a minor and easier harmony. It is from the very desirable (and often painful) per-sonal confrontations in view of differences that such consciousness occasions interpersonal relationships really happening, and "composition" really occurring. And be-cause we are human beings, something happens in the composition of good community that does not happen in the'composition of good art: we individual elements have to stretch ourselves intellectually, socially, emo-tionally, psychologically, to contain the contrasts of our community. But what grow.th! And growing pains too. Only a community like this can address itself to the yearning of the contemporary man who wants to be where the personal identity he has worked so hard foI is 'appreciated and desired. He wants to be part of a community that challenges him to become and, in be-coming, to be his unique self. Only an aesthetique of striving for great communitarian beauty can provide for a whole that frames rather than swallows individuality. A beautiful nature scene which is exciting on a 16mm screen might well be overwhelming on the Cinerama screen. This introduces a new consideration into our discussion of beauty. There is something about the hu-man spirit, perhaps allied to the appetite for tran- scendence, that makes it reach out for what is grand. "A man's reach must exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for?" Traditionally, being big-souled is being virtuous: magnanimity. In our aesthetic satisfaction there is a certain proper kind of intensity just in comparative magnitude. Nor is this to devalue the beauty of small delicate things--there are beautiful things that would suffer violence in enlargement. Yet it does remain true that sheer magnitude awakens the human spirit and issues a call to it to be likewise grand. This is as true of the aesthetic exlSerience as of other realms of our. ex-perience. Let us again apply our aesthetique to community life. Perhaps we should begin with the acknowledgement that there is a kind of intensity in the relationship between two friends that cannot be enlarged to a whole com-munity- this would be a naive aim. Yet on the other hand, there is a magnificence in the spirited unity of a large community that is an inspiration to behold, and that is an even greater inspiration to be part of. There is a strength and a power in such a unity. Of course, in speakirig of comparative magnitude as adding strength to beauty, we mean not sheer size alone, but one that is marked by the aesthetic qualities we dis-cussed already. The final point in our discussion of the qualities of aesthetic perfection has to do with variety of detail. Variety of detail can be worked at in many ways. The baroque and rococo are not our ways. But variety is im-portant even in an age that wants its architecture to have a naked beauty often drawn from nothing more or less than the unadorned structural elements. Variety of detail, then, is not extravagance. It is variation and contrast that, from a negative point of v.iew, prevents monotony and boredom; and, from a positive point of view, adds interest and excitement. This aesthetic qual-ity is somewhat akin to the previous one we spoke of. There is a grandeur in variety of detail. Mere variety is not the point; the variety must be well composed so that the contrast is effective. But all else being equal, variety of detail does add an aesthetic perfection. And, of course, variety exacts a keener attention to insure such an ef-fective composition. It doesn't just happen. Effective unity does not just happen in a community marked by a great variety of temperaments and per-sonalities. It can only be brought about by careful and patient care. Again, that must be conscious effort. It cannot happen unless a community has decided that it wills to work for a greater degree of communitarian beauty and then has begun the communitarian creativity which alone can bring it off. + ÷ ÷ Community ¯ VOLUME 27, 1968 601 Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 At this point something should be said about discord and disharmony, about their positive worth and de-sirability, or rather, about the circumstances in which they are desirable. Effective contrast of different elements makes possible a higher form of beauty. It is discord which makes known the fact that different elements are present which have not been unified in effective contrast. It is dis-cord, then, that points a finger to the spot where at-tention is needed, where effective relating is needed, to incorporate these different elements into a community which will be richer for having taken them unto its own. Even if the minor forms of communitarian beauty have been attained quite well, it is probably humanly im-possible to move to a higher form based on effective contrast without experiencing discord. The discord must be expected. It must be welcomed as the herald of something better to come if it can be dealt with openly and sincerely. And it must not linger to haunt the new unity when it is born. In music the transition from a single tone into a harmony might well--and often does--pass through an intermedi~i(e disharmony. That disharmony often serves to heighten the experience of a ricli harmony which it (even in its split second existence) teased us into yearn-ing for. The application to many of the disharmonies of community life is obvious enough to need no com-mentary. Thus far we have discussed, from a somewhat philo-sophical point of view, the qualities of what is beauti-ful, the qualities which occasion the aesthetic experience for the human spirit. We would like to turn now to the human spirit~ and from that point of view discuss one further factor of prime i.importance in'our experience of beauty. So let us speak of the human spirit. There is a certain restlessness that makes it tire'of repetition. Even if it ha~ accommodated itself to the ease of repetition, it is un-likely that much of the deeper yearning of the human spirit can thus be satisfied. It can at best be anaesthe-tized. Clumsily but accurately rendered, the word "an-aesthetized" means unbeautied, deadened to the aes-thetic. Even beauty can anaesthetize when it is endlessly repeated in the same form. "Perfection will not bear the tedium of indefinite repetition" (Whitehead). To sus-tain the ardor of aesthetic enjoyment requires a con-stant' search for new perfection. Sometimes the new perfection need not even be a higher one, only an equal perfection. The new experience keeps the spirit aes-thetically intent, alive, and active. Change for the sake of change is capricious. But change, even when the practical situation does not de-mand it, even when the new thing is not an improve-ment, may still be quite desirable if it can sustain the intensity of our aesthetic experience of communitarian beauty. We must emphasize again that conscious recog-nition of striving for communitarian beauty as it has been described is a necessary context for welcoming change and movement and variation. Outside of this context, the change that is not pragmatically necessary is indeed obnoxious. If a com.munity has opted to strive for higher forms o[ beauty in its life together, the element of change needs attention; but to some extent it will take care of itself. The texture of a community changes with every personnel change. The addition or subtraction 6f even one member is bound to affect the quality of a com-munity that has determined its "composition" in view of each unique individual member, ff one member o~ a community has grown and been enriched through per-sonal, experience, the community grows too and accom-modates itself to the new experience within it. In this way each community should have a personality of its own, a beauty of its own that is particular to this com-munity because it is composed of these unique, indi-vidual persons. To the extent that communities have not achieved a beauty characteristic of each, one com-munity will look quite the same as any other. And per-haps we should be reminded here by Bishop Robinson that God is as much in the rapids as in the rocks. Nor is all of this discussion without import for that celebration of community which is the Eucharist. We h~ve probably all reflected how daily repetition of Mass ~can weaken the quality of our experience of it. I think we salve the situation too unctuously by countering that the eye of faith sees behind any possible tedium in the daily repetition. Mass is not simply the presence of God through the signs of bread and wine; the full symbol is the community that is gathered there to further in-tensify its unity in the breaking of one bread and the sharing of a Common cup. Because each community is-- or should be--unique, it must vitalize its celebration of the Eucharist by finding ways of expressing its unique-ness (and thus its beauty) in Mass, for this is how the community offers to God what is most beautiful to Him. The dynamic interaction of individuals in community is constantly modifying the texture of community, be it ever so little. There is, then, the challenge always to find new ways of offering God the new beauties that come to be in our midst, the new Beauties that ARE our Midst. ÷ ÷ ÷ ~,ommunity VOLUME 27, 1968 603 JOHN COWBURN, S.J. The Analogy of Religious Authority and Obedience ÷ ÷ ÷ John Cowburn, s.J., is a faculty member at Loyola College; Watsonia, Victoria S087; Aus-tralia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In discussions of authority it is sometimes assumed, I think, that the authority of a father over his children is the first experienced and universally understood form of authority, and that all other forms of authority are ultimately analogous to it. On the basis of these as-sumptions, then, other forms of authority are explained by comparing them with this primordial form: God's authority over us is explained as being that of a father; the pope is called the Holy Father, bishops are told to be like fathers to their priests and people, pastors like fathers to their parishioners, and religious superiors like fathers and mothers to their subjects; and secular rulers, too, are thought to be like fathers to their subjects. On the other hand, it has been maintained that every form of authority is completely sui generis, so that argu-ments a pari from one form to another are never valid; or that, whatever may be said about secular forms of authority, at any rate the kinds of authority found in the Church are not analogous to natural forms, so that it is not really enlightening to compare them with these. Since, however, theology continually presupposes that analogy is possible and that one can argue by means of it, and since the. gospel has always been preached with the aid of analogies, it is surely reasonable to suppose that analogy can be used in discussions of authority. And if this is agreed on, perhap~ it can also be agreed that the family is the fundamental human society, that all forms of authority are ultimately analogous to forms of au-, thority found in the family, and that reflection on au-thority and obedience as they are exercised there can be helpful for an understanding of the nature of religious authority (not to mention other forms) and of the way in which it ought to be exercised. What I wish to question, however, is that this means that all authority, including that of the religious superior, is analogous to that of a father over his children--but I anticipate. Authority in the Family A family, surely, should not be seen simply as a group of people one of whom has authority over all the others. Rather, it should' be seen as constituted by two different relationships, or kinds of relationship: there is the re-lationship which binds the husband and wife to each other, and there are the relationships which bind the parents to the children and the children to the parents. Both these relationships involve authority on one side, and the.~recognition of that authority, or obedience, on the other: a husband is the head of the couple formed by his wife and himself, and she promises to love, honor and obey him; and of course parents have authority over their children, who owe them obedience. However, I suggest that we find here two distinct kinds of au-thority and obedience, and that reflection quickly shows that there are radical differences between them.1 Firstly, children do not choose to enter a family and they do not choose their parents, but a woman chooses. to marry and to become the wife of this man rather than of any other. The authority of parents over their chil-dren, then, is not given to them by the children, whereas a husband obtains authority over his wife when she freely gives it to him. The facts, that a woman cannot marry a man without giving him authority over her and that the authority once given may not arbitrarily be taken back do not affect the contention that one of the relationships is constituted by the free consent of both parties and the other is not. Secondly, one relationship is essentially between two adults, whereas the other is essentially between adults and children. If this were not obvious already, it could be shown by stating that a woman cannot marry until she is capable of making freely an important decision that will affect her whole life, that is, until she is no longer a child. Thirdly, in a normal family the parents are superior to their children in knowledge, understanding, wisdom, ¯ common sense, fortitude, and almost every other respect, and the lack of these qualities in children is the reason why they are subject to their parents in the way they are. In a normal family, however, the husband and wife are much more nearly equal in human qualities than par-x I have made this contention in The Person and Love (New York: Alba House, 1968), p. 157. (The English edition, published in London by Geoffrey Chapman, is called Love and the Person.) + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 605 ÷ ÷ 1ohn Cowburn, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 60g ents and children are; indeed, if there is very great in-equality a true marriage is virtually impossible. And if in a normal family the husband is usually somewhat older than his wife and in some respects superior to her, this is not the reason why he has authority over her, as is shown by the wives who are actually superior to their husbands in intelligence and other human qualities and who nevertheless give them obedience. That is, if one asks in general why children are always under someone's dominion the answer is that they are incapable of being left in charge of themselves. If, however, one asks why most women are under the dominion of husbands, the answer is not that. It is, one supposes, that for the unity of a couple it is necessary that one partner be the leader and that the other--who, if she were living alone, would be quite capable of looking after herself--accept his leadership. Fourthly, the authority of parents over their children is transient, whereas that of husband over wife is perma-nent. The authority of parents over their children is greatest when the children are small; as they grow up it lessens; eventually, it ceases--for although adults respect their parents they do not strictly speaking owe them obedience. In contrast to this, the authority of husband over wife is constant and permanent. Fifthly, it would be abnormal for a grown person to obey his parents just as he did when he was a child; and to train anyone to obey in this way all his life would be to prevent him from achieving maturity. But it is per-fectly normal for a mature woman to recognize her husband's authority--indeed, to be unwilling to accept or acknowledge this kind of authority would, generally speaking, be a sign of immaturity--and a married woman achieves maturity and fulfillment partly by schooling herself to give recognition and willing obedi-ence to her husband. Sixthly, in both cases the exercise of authority and the obedience are expressions of love: a man gives himself to his wife partly by assuming responsibili.ty for her welfare, with the authority that that responsibility car-ries with it, and she gives herself to him in accepting him as head; and parents express their love for their children by not letting them run wild but authoritatively con-trolling their development, while children show their loving acceptance of their parents by obeying them. However, conjugal love and parental-filial love are surely different in kind; and so the authority and obedi-ence in which they are expressed are also different in kind. We come, th(n, to this conclusion: in a family there are two radically.different kinds of authority and obedio ence. In previous ages, I suppose, people would have disagreed with this by maintaining that the authority of husband over wife is not essentially different from that of father over children. When fathers retained their authority over their daughters .not until these were twenty-one but until they were married; and when fathers chose husbands for their daughters and then led the girls to the altar where they handed them over to the bridegrooms; then it seemed to everyone that it was from her father that a man obtained his authority over his wife, and so it was supposed that his authority was essentially of the same kind as that which the father had had, and men supposed that their wives and children were all subject to their authority in much the same way. Today, however, disagreement with my thesis is likely to take a very different form, for it is now being said that husbands do not have real authority over their wives, and that wives do not strictly speaking owe obedi-ence to their husbands. It is, says Julian Gosling, very unnatural and misleading to describe in terms of "au-thority" and "obedience" the relationship between hus-gand and wife, given that the wife has the right and duty to enter fully with her husband into discussion of any decisions that are to be made.~ But discussion is in-compatible with authority and obedience only if these are understood in a very restricted way; and since even today a husband is in some. sense the head or leader of the couple, it seems reasonable to continue to talk Of con-jugal authority and obedience--provided that these are sharply distinguished from parental authority and filial obedience. Religious Obedience Let us now put the question: to which of these two kinds of authority is that of the religious superior analo-gous? Well, firstly, a person is a Christian by virtue of his own free option, and he is a religious by virtue of a choice which in a sense is even more free, since there is" no obligation to make it. If these facts were once ob-scured, when people thought they were Catholics be-cause they were born citizens of Catholic countries br members of Catholic families, while some people~ were religious because their parents had given them into religion at an early age, they are now very clear. Secondly, the relationship between religious superior and subject i~ essentially between two adults, since a person taking religious vows is presumed to be mature "Rhetoric and Marriage," Month, January, 1967, p. 29. + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 607 enough to do so. Moreover, many reli, gious superiors are younger than some of their subjects. Thirdly, the precise reason why in religious orders. there are superiors and subjects is not that the superiors have knowledge and virtue,' while the subjects are stupid and irresponsible. It may well be that on the average those who are superiors are more gifted than those who are subjects, but if all were equally intelligent and prudent it would still be necessary for religious com-munities to have superiors. Fourthly, the state of religious obedience is not tran-sient, extending only over a period of growth, but life-long. 'Fifthly, if the authority of a religious superior were thought of as being analogous to that of a father over his children, then it would be implied that either the subjects ought to live all their lives in a situation which. is abnormal for mature persons, or else that once they have finished their training they can reasonably consider that they have outgrown obedience, strictly so called, and claim a very large measure of independence. If, however, it is thought of as being analogous to conjugal authority, then obedience presents itself as quite con-sonant with personal maturity; indeed, it becomes rea-sonably easy to see how a religious can achieve personal fulfillment and maturity partly by schooling himself to give recognition and willing obedience to a superior. The conclusion seems inescapable: religious authority and obedience are analogous to conjugal authority and obedience rather than to parental authority and filial obedience,a But is this theologically sound? Firstly, it is traditional doctrine that a religious ought to see Christ in his su-perior. But Christ, surely, was Master to the Apostles and He is our Lord, Master, friend, brother or spouse; but He was not their father and He is not ours. It seems, then, entirely in accord with this traditional doctrine to say that a religious superior is lord or master of his subjects in the way that a husband is the head of a couple, and not in the way that a father is in authority over his children.4 However, secondly, it is also tradi-÷ ÷ ÷ .lohn Cowburn, $o~o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 s Karl Rahner says that religious obedience is not analogous to that of children because this is (1) based on lack of knowledge and responsi-bility in the child as compared with the parents; (2) temporary, having as its aim its own eventual disappearance; (3) given by nature, not chosen by personal election ("A Basic Ignatian Concept: Some Reflec-tions on Obedience," Woodstock Letters, v. 86 [1957], pp. 293--4). This is exactly what I maintain, but Rahner does not develop an alterna-tive analogy. ~ Dora Olivier Rousseau writes that St. Benedict "would have the subject see Christ himself in his Abbot with whom he lives con-stantly: Christi enim agere vices in monasterio creditur [abbas]" tional to compare a religious superior to a father or mother. Could it be that this was simply because it was assumed that paternal authority is the basic form of authority to which all other authority---including con-jugal authority--is analogous; and if this assumption is modified, so may the traditional comparison be cor-rected? Some authors begin by affirming that all authority is analogous to that of a father over his children, but they then go on to point out how vastly different is the authority of a religious superior from that of a parent and end by virtually denying their original affirmation.5 It seems more consistent to suppose that all authority is analogous either to that of a father over his children or to that of a husband over his wife; one can then deny that there is any analogy between a religious superior and a parent without coming into conflict with one's own supposition. Qualifications Firstly, let it be clearly stated that, as with every analogy, there are differences between the terms under comparison. The husband-wife relationship is sexual, which the superior-subject one is not. A husband has only one wife, whereas a religious superior may have many subjects. In most religious orders, superiors are regularly changed, as husbands are not. And so on. Secondly, to say that religious authority is analogous to that of a husband is not to say all that can be said about it. That is, this article makes a point about re-ligious authority but does not attempt to give a com-plete account of it. Thirdly, in all I have been saying I have been con-sidering the normal case, which is that of a superior and a formed religious, rather than that of a superior and a religious who is still in training. In his early years a religious is perhaps something of a child in his order, learning the elements of religious life, and the au-thority of superiors over him has something of a pa- (Introduction to Obedience [London: Blackfriars, 1953], p. 15). "The abbot," Dora Olivier then goes on to say as if it followed naturally, "ought to be the father of his community." But this, surely, is pre-cisely what does not follow from St. Benedict's principle. ~ For instance, Desmond F. McGoldrick ~ays that the prototype of "dominative power" is that of parents in the home; but he then--and this is what seems to me to be somewhat inconsistent--plays down and even denies any analogy between a parent and a religious superior (Fostering Development [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], pp. 77-8); and he says: "The attitude which an enlightened Superior should not use towards the other members of the Community is that of the parent-child relationship. She is not a parent; her subjects are not children" (ibid., p. 151). + + + Authority. and Obedience VOLUME 27, lO68 609 ÷ ÷ John Cowbu~n, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6111 rental character; but, firstly, this is plainly not the case to have in mind when working out a theory of religious authority and obedience, hnd, secondly, the authority of stiperiors over subjects in their years of formation ought even then to be mainly "conjugal" and it ought grad-ually to lose its partly parental character as the subject develops. Practical Implications The thesis maintained above has certain practical implications. Firstly, there is frequently a certain "distance" between parents and children, and some fathers even deliberately maintain a degree of aloofness from their children. Also, some political and military leaders, understanding their authority to be quasi-paternal, have quite deliberately kept aloof from their subjects, and they have incited their subjects to think of them as mysterious, superior beings, to be almost worshipped from afar below, and to be obeyed without question in all things. But since no husband should be aloof from his wife, no religious su-perior should be distant from his subjects or use mys-terious aloofness as a device for obtaining unquestioning obedience. Secondly, parents usually call their children by their Christian names or family nicknames, whereas children call their parents by some respectful form of address such as "Father," "Mother," or abridgements of these; but husbands and wives use reciprocal forms of address towards each other. Also, children are frequently taught to adopt a respectful posture when addressing their parents or other adults, at least when asking for some-thing or "being spoken to"; but wives do not as it were stand to attention when a.ddressing their husbands or being addressed by them. It would, then, seem to be nor-mal for a religious to address his superior in much the same way as he would address the same man if he were not the superior--which in many cases means his Chris-tain name, his name in the order, o~ his nickname if he has one. Thirdly, it frequently happens that parents~if one may put it this way--live more expensively than their children do. They do not, for instance, give to their children as much money to spend .on an outing as they themselves would spend; and if from time to time they entertain friends at restaurants they do not make it pos-sible for their children to'entertain thdir friends at those same restaurants. Similarly, in many armies the officers have a higher standard of living than the men. But husbands and wives share and share alike. Of course, it may sometimes happen that a man has an expensive business lunch while his wife, in town for the day, is having a cheap lunch at a department-store cafeteria; but in general they have the same standard of living. Just so, in a religious community superiors and subjects share and share alike, and superiors do not, because they are superiors, have a higher standard of room furni-ture, dress, means of transport, and so on. Fourthly, parents do not ordinarily bring their chil-dren fully into their consultations, but find it su~cient to give them some sort of explanation of whatever de-cisions have been made which affect them, after they have been made. Children for their part exercise filial obedience by trusting their parents and accepting their decisions without argument. Between husbands and wives, however, full consultation is the rule. It may oc-casionally happen that a man must make some decision without consulting his wife, because he is not given enough time to get in touch with her, because the de-cision involves some information which he is obliged to keep secret even from her, or for some other reason; but such an action must be seen as exceptional and in need of a good reason to justify it. In normal circumstances it would be positively wrong for a husband to take an important decision without genuine consultation with his wife--and this means listening to her really seri-ously- for she has a right to be consulted; and for that matter it would be wrong for her to refuse to enter .into consultation, for he has a right to her participation in the decision-making and the responsibility that it en-tails. Usually the final result is a decision which they feel comes from both of them-~either a wife or a hus-band will often say "We have decided" to do this or that--and yet from first to last it is understood between them that the husband is the head, and that the final word rests with him. He feels this and accepts the re-sponsibility that it carries with it; the wife feels it, positively wants it, and participates in the discussion, which may become an argument, in such a way as never to challenge her husband's position but rather always to maintain him in it. In view of this we may perhaps sum up a good deal that is being said about the need for dialogue between religious superiors and their subjects by saying that in the past religious superiors often acted as if they were parents and as if their subjects were children, whereas the superior-subject relationship ought to be modeled on that of husband and wife. That is, in the past superiors did not bring the majority of their subjects into their consultations and merely announced decisions to their subjects after they were made, sometimes adding a brief explanation; and subjects exercised a filial obedience by + + + ,Authority and° Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 611 trusting their superiors and accepting without argument the decisions they made. Now, however, it is everywhere being said that the fullest possible sharing of informa-tion ought to be the rule. Also, while there are times when general discussion is impossible and when su-periors are fully justified in acting on their own, it should be seen as exceptional and as only justified when there are good reasons, for superiors to act without prior consultation of their communities.6 That is, the re-sponsibility for the right government of a community and the carrying out of its work should be shared by all its members--and yet it must be clearly understood and willed by all that the superior is the head of the com-munity, with real authority over its members. In conclusion it might be said, firstly, that present developments are sometimes described--by both those who favor them and those who oppose them--as amount-ing to a change from monarchical to democratic govern-ment in religious orders. It seems better, however, to look for analogies in the family rather than in the po-litical arena, because the family is the fundamental ' human society and also because in the family authority and obedience both plainly spring from love, as they do in the Church. Secondly, it might be said that those who think of the religious superior as essentially analo-gous to a father or mother inevitably see in contemporary developments a weakening of religious authority. If, how- .ever~ they can accept the proposition that the relation-ship between superior and subject is not'as a rule anal-ogous to the parent-child relationship but to the husband-wife relationship, then they will see that con-temporary developments are tending to realize the true nature of religious authority and obedience,, not to weaken them. o Particularly significant, perhaps, is the suggestion which is being made in various quarters that information about the finances of a house and even of a province or an entire order should be made avail-. able to all members of the house, province, or order; for parents do not normally tell their children how much money they have or keep them informed about income and expenses, whereas modern husbands do normally share this information with their wives and discuss finan-cial problems with them. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER M. RUTH FOX, O.S.B. PrOviding an Atmosphere for Personality Growth in the Postulancy Religious life* has long been regarded by many as a mode of living almost wholly distinct from human life. Religious men and women were often in the past looked upon as creatures set apart to live an angelic life, a life free of all that was naturally human. They actually tried to live this way and tried to form the candidates to this life in the same manner. That is, the candidates were put into a mold when they entered the postulancy, and they spent their lifetime assimilating this mold into their very being. This procedure turned out molded religious who were not angelic nor human--nor happy. Today, however, we once again realize the basic Christian belief that our human nature is the greatest natural gift we have. It is to be enhanced, not destroyed, during our temporal life. Therefore, it does not matter what specific work or way of life we undertake, we all have a vocation to be human first of all. We cannot be Christian, much less religious, unless we are first of all human. This realization is especially important for those re-ligious who have the responsibility of "formation" in their communities. These sisters have been entrusted with the growth and maturity of not one but many human personalities. They should .be aware that it is possible in the first years of religious life to completely stunt the natural personality growth of the candidates. * This article was written with the help and supervision of Leo R. Kennedy, Ph.D., Chairman of the Department of Psychology, Creigh-ton University, Omaha. Dr. Kennedy; who has given professional service to many religious communities of men and women, encouraged the publishing of the article in the hopes that the suggestions con-tained in it would be implemented in Sister Formation prggrams. ÷ ÷ ÷ : Sister M. Ruth Fox, O.S.B., is the postulant directress at Sacred Heart Pri-ory; Richardton, North Dakota 58652. VOkUME 27~ 1968 613 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 But on the other hand, it is also possible, and impera-tive, to accept the human personality and to help it grow to its fullest capacity.1 In order to help the postulants achieve a mature per-sonality, the directress must first be aware of the char-acteristics of these young women o{ the 1960's. She should also have a kn6wledge of the process of per-sonalit) growth and the means to encourage proper growth. These topics will be discussed in this article. Who are these young women that come to the postu-lancy in 1968-69? Most of them are in their late teens or early twenties; therefore, they belong to a class of our society commonly called young adults. They are no longer adolescents or teen-agers, or at least they are in the last stages of that group. But neither are they adults. So the postulant directress cannot base her guidance of them on either adolescent or adult psychology exclu-sively, but must choose from both. An excellent way to get to know them is to read current articles written by, on, or for young adults. But the articles must be cur-rent. Even to go back to material written in the 1950's could be detrimental, because our young people have different ways of expressing their needs in the 1960's. Though it is true that the basic needs of human nature do not seem to change, there are certain needs that are either more emphasized now or are expressed differently than they were 5, 10, or 100 years ago. In current writing, today's young adults are classified as the New Breed, the Restless Generation, the Hippies, the Now Generation. But no matter what they are called, their main concerns are fulfillment, personalism, honesty, integrity, authenticity, and love.2 They have been raised in an era of prosperity and plenty. When they ask how to find personal worth, they are only told to take another helping from the silver platter. But they see that materialism does not give any meaning to life. They see the American society as a cold, mechanical, abstract, and emotionally mean-ingless place.3 Because society offers them so little that x W. W. Meissner, S.J., Group Dynamics in the Religious Li/e (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1965) presents a thorough discussion of the community's responsibility to foster growth. ~ See John Evoy, S.J., "How Neurotic is the New Breed?" Catholic Mind, v. 64 (December, 1966), pp. 28-42; Daniel Goulding, "The Rest-less Generation," Vital Speeches ol the Day, v. 32 (1966), pp. 506-508; Andrew Greeley, "A New Breed," America, CX, 21 (1964), pp. 706-709 and "A Farewell to the New Breed," America, CXIV, 23 (1966), pp. 801-804; George Herndl, "Time of the Now Generation," Liberal Education, LIII, 2 (1967); "The Hippies: Philosophy of a Subculture," Time, July 7, 1967, pp. 18-22; Robert Jones, "Man of the Year: The Inheritor," Time, January 6, 1967, pp. 18-23. 3See "Meet the Restless Generation," Changing Times, XXI, 6 (June, 1967), pp. 6-11. is meaningful and relevant, they are often forced into cynicism. But they nonetheless wish they could find val-ues, goals, or institutions to which they could commit themselvesA. They reject formal organization, legalism, and out-moded forms and regulations because these seem to stifle individualism. They want to be concerned with persons as persons.5 Perhaps this accounts for their~ emphasis on love and fulfillment. They desperately want to love and be loved for what they are. But they are afraid they are loved only for what they, do. In fact, they have been raised this way: "Do what I tell you, and I will show you I love.you." So they have no real faith in them-selves as persons, no real proof that they are lovable for what they are. Thus they preach love to the world in a frantic effort to find it in themselves and others. Our young people are deeply committed to decency, tolerance, and brotherhood--not as a goal, but as a reality to be lived now. "This generation has no utopia. Its idea is the happening. Let. it be concrete, let it be vivid, let it be personal. Let it be nowl" n Because tomorrow is so unsure and ever changing, today must be lived to the fullest. Living and experiencing cannot b.e postponed. It must be made to happen now. In summary then, the 1968-69 postulant is a member of the Now Generation who comes to the convent not to be "formed into a religious; she comes to be fulfilled as a person." 7 The goal of fulfillment need not frighten the postu-lant directress if she is aware of the process of per-sonality growth. The fundamental theory that should dominate the planning of formation (or fulfillment) is that the growth and development of the candidate must come from within the person. Growth cannot be di-rected from the outside because each individual must develop in terms of his own inner capacities. "The a~- tempt to produce growth by putting man into a mold or demanding conformity is based on a total misunder-standing of man, of his nature and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is sacrificing the person for the con-venience of the system; it is the mechanizing of man. It is a basic lack of respect for the mystery of the human person." 8 If growth and development are individual inner proc- 4 A good presentation of what youth is looking for is found in Erik Erikson, ed., The Challenge of Youth (New York: Doubleday, 1965). ~ Consult the articles by Andrew Greeley mentioned above. o Jones, p. 20. 7 Sister Miriam Rooney, O.P., "The New Breed Enters the Con-vent," C~;oss and Crown, v. 16 (1964), 397. s Paul D'Arcy and Eugene Kennedy, The Genius o] the Apostolate (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965) p. 5. + ÷ ÷ P o stul ancy " . . VOLUME 27, 1968 615 esses, what is the role of the postulant directress? She must provide the atmosphere in which the maximum growth and development are possible. To do this, she must first of all be aware of the psychological process called ego identity. Although this is a lifelong process in which the self links the past, present, and future into one person, there is a crisis of identity which occurs duri.ng late adolescence. At this time the young person realizes he is leaving the security of childhood and entering the uncertainties of young adulthood. He is wavering be-tween what he was and what he hopes to be.a Thus the postulant is seeking to clarify her understanding of who she is and what her role is to be. She is seeking for a sense of self and self-acceptance. "The adolescent hopes to forge for himself a perspective and direction, to achieve an effective integration out of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adult-hood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosis, psychosis, or delinquent behavior." x0 To help the postulant through this identity crisis, the directress must provide her with acceptance and un-derstanding. Experiencing warm acceptance by impor-tant people in one's life is a prerequisite for knowing and accepting oneself. Obviously the important person in the postulant's life is her directress. So if the postu-lant is to grow, she must know she is loved by her superior. This means that the directress must be warm and loving, not just toward the group but toward each individual in the group. She must take each one into her lieart and really love her. She must be so warm and ac-cepting that the postulant would feel free to confide in her all that she was, is, and hopes to be. Each postulant should realize that she would be loved no matter how many unlovable things she may have done or will do. It is in this atmosphere that the girl can admit and accept her feelings and failures. A person who accepts him-self is also secure enough to accept others. So when each postulant can accept herself and the other postulants, a Christian community of love is. Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 ~ A complete explanation of the identity process is found in Erik Erikson, lnsight and Responsibility (New York: Norton, 1964) and "Identity and the Life Cycle," Psychological Issues, v. I (New York: International Universities Press, 1959), pp. 111-117, by the same au-thor. The application of the process to religious life is found in Walter DeBont, O.P., "Identity Crisis and the Male Novice," Rrw~w roR RELigiOUS, v. 21 (1962), pp. 104-128; Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace, and Religious Development (Westminster: Newman, 1964); and Sister Thomas More, C.S.J., "Self Identification and Religious Li~e," in The Retreat Master Faces the Nun in the Modern World, ed. John Powell and others (St. MarTs, Kansas: St. Mary's College, 1965). ~ McLaughlin, p. $4. formed. Having experienced a sense of love and security in the postulancy, the young woman is better prepared to be an apostle of love. Not only should the directress be warm and loving, but the very surroundings in the convent should reflect this feminine warmth. Why can't postulancies (and con-vents) look homey? Warmth and growth would be en-couraged by such things as colorful drapes on the windows; a vase of flowers on the table, pictures '(not just saints!) on the wall, end tables cluttered with cur-rent magazines and newspapers, family photographs on the piano, a knitting bag on the floor. If we have nor-mal healthy conditions, we will. foster normal healthy growth. Many times, normal people leave our convents because they cannot lead abnormal lives in abnormal living conditions. Let's keep the normal ones111 In an atmosphere of warmth and affection, the postu-lant will feel more free to be herself, and her per-sonality will thus grow in a healthful manner. To make her growth and establishment of identity easier, the directress should realize another difficulty that the postu-lant faces. If the girl experienced normal adolescent de-velopment, she probably established a certain sense of identity before her entrance into the convent. She had a secure place in her family and probably had definite responsibilities to fulfill at home. She possessed ~a certain status in her peer group and perhaps held offices of importance in her high school or college. But in entering the religious community, all these former securities and relationships are either greatly modified or broken en-tirely. She is no longer able to live her identity in the same way. Therefore, to give her a sense of security and continuity, couldn't these healthy relationships be al-lowed to continue? The postulant's family was the main environment for her personality growth since birth. Should it suddenly be .discarded as if it were no longer of value? "The breakdown of family ties magnifies the identity crisis." 12 Thus the postulant's family should feel free and welcome to visit her anytime. Frequent letters should be en-couraged. Perhaps she could go home for weddings, graduations, anniversaries, and an occasional weekend. There is no apparent reason for cutting off all ties with her former friends either. Letters should be allowed to come and go without inspection or limitation. As the postulant gets involved with college and new friend- ~ See Eugene Kenned)', M.M., "Differentiated Discipline in the Seminary," National Catholic Education Association Bulletin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), pp. 79--89. m Joseph Simmons, C.S.C., "The Catholic College Student: His War against Protection," Ave Maria, CIV, 16 (October 15, 1966), p. 6. 4. 4- Postulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 617 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR REI;IGIOUS 618 ships, the letters will gradually decrease. Perhaps rthe postulant's closest friends could spend a weekend with her at the convent. (This would not only .be good for ,her, but also for the convent's public relations program.) Discarding uniforms for the postulants might also favor personality growth. If the postulant continues ¯ wearing' the same dresses she wore before entrance, she has another source of security. At a time when many former securities are left behind, this will give her a sense of identity with her past. It might also help to abolish the notion that "the habit makes the nun." Such a notion is harmful because the postulant may ex-pect the uniform to produce automatic changes in her behavior. She is thus disappointed in herself and in the life when she discovers that she remains the same per-son. Perhaps there is a reason for the donning of a habit at the time of reception into the ,novitiate or at profes-sion of vows. But it seems that at this time of identity crisis, the postulant would be "more secure in her own clothing. Obedience also poses a problem for the directress and the postulants. Today's youth feel that obedience de-stroys their freedom and perhaps smothers their in-dividual identity. They will ordinarily not refuse to obey; but before carrying out a command, they want to sit down and discuss th~ "why" of it with the superior. This is not to be taken as disrespect or unwillingness to obey. They only wish to obey in a more human manner by understanding what they are doing.13 When they un-derstand, they are able to commit themselves to the deed in a responsible manner. If the directress can find no r~asonable answer to the postulant's question, "Why should I~do this?" perhaps it should not be done. Even occasional rebellion on the part of an individual may be a healthy assertion of self. Though often referred to as obedience, strict ad-herence to rules and schedules is frequently an escape from responsible, decision making. Directresses should provide as many opportunities as possible for the postu-lants to make their own decisions. It is difficult to see how this can be accomplished if every minute of the day is scheduled for the girls. Other college girls of their age devise their own schedules. They decide the times to study, to write letters, to ~lean their rooms, to retire. A postulant- will soon learn that if she spends all her study time reading novels or watching TV, she will begin to fail in her college classes. She learns this through per-sonal expgrience the hard way. But this is much more ~ See Stafford Poole, C.M., "The New Breed and the Old Semi-nary," Jubilee, XIII, 2 (June, 1965), pp. 8-13. effective in producing healthy growth in responsibility than if she were simply told the first night in the con-vent: "We study from 8:00 to I0:00 every night." The minimizing of rules and scheduled living is not a relaxation. It is just putting responsibility where it be-longs, on the person. It is changing enforced discipline to self-discipline. Related to rules and schedules is the assignment of household chores such as cleani.ng, ironing, and washing dishes. It is certainly profitable for all members of a community to participate in keeping house. These tasks should be looked upon as means of serving the other members o[ the community. Again, as much initiative as possible should be left to the girls in deciding when and how to do the work. They could also decide among themselves who would do what, and how often they wanted to exchange tasks. These are just a few of the small but important ways in which postulants can be encouraged to grow in maturity. "When we take youngsters out of high school who are still adolescents--a rebellious stage, still longing for adult status--and never let them get a taste of what it means to be an adult, what can we expect but that they will be unhappy subjects." 14 Too often, our candi-dates are not only kept in adolescence, but are even thrown back to childhood. We can help them grow into adulthood simply by giving them trust and responsi-bility. 15 However, there is really not much initiative and re-sponsibility involved in pushing a broom, and a young woman's need for self-actualization is not met in this way. College girls of our day see themselves as creative and productive, and they have great social concern.1~ They want challenging and difficult work with little intervention from others. If they are not stimulated in this direction, they may withdraw into themselves or develop other signs of maladjustment. If we wish to have zealous sisters, we must not let this youthful enthusiasm of the postulant wither while she is busy writing term papers and wiping dishes. Since she is a member of the Now Generation, she wants to do something meaningful for others now. She wants to undertake a task where there is a definite need for her services and self. In doing a~ John Evoy, S.J., and Van Cristoph, S.J., Personality Development in the Religious LiIe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 183. an A very helpful book is Psychological Aspects of Spiritual Develop-ment, Michael O'Brien and Raymond Steimel, ed., (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1964). a0 See Elizabeth Monroe Drews, "Counseling for Self-actualization in Gifted Girls and Young Women," Journal of Counseling Psy-chology, XII, 2 (Summer, 1965), pp. 167-175. ÷ ÷ ÷ P ostulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 619 Sister M. ~ Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 620 a task in which she i~ needed, the young woman comes to 'see her own personal worth. "Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic' value, that he is im-portant, worthwhile." lz It often happens in the religious life that people who want to do great things are de-mobilized. But it should be realized that it is a sign of health if a person longs to do something important with his life.is Since postulants are expected to be normal young women, they should be allowed to fulfill this normal need by doing something meaningful for others. Op-portunities within the convent can be found to satisfy some of this need. The older sisters, especially those in the infirmary, need and appreciate the friendship of youth. And youth, in turn, can profit greatly from the wisdom and experience of age. The postulants should be permitted the enrichment of their personalities by close association with all the other members of the com-munity. A meaningful apostolate for action should also be sought outside the convent. Some areas of investigation might be the parish CCD program, high school or young adult discussion clubs, Newman Club, homes for the aged, hospitals, schools, and so forth. Of course, these are only temporary apostolates, but they will satisfy the need for meaningful action now. Howevdr, the postulant must also be well aware of the !ongterm goal toward which she is working. That is, she should have some idea of her future status in the com-munity so that she sees her future role in the group as an important one, one that is worthwhile waiting for. In the fulfillment of self-enjoined and community-appointed apostolates, the postulant will reveal her psy-chological maturity. The directress should watch for manifestations of inferidrity feelings, egotism, undue competitiveness, hbstility, rigidity, and a false sense of reality.~9 Because the girls are not conforming to rigid standards of performance, their personal strengths and weaknesses will appear. The directress can then counsel them accordingly and either help them to grow toward maturity or to realize that they would find greater ful-fillment in another way of life. One other means of providing an atmosphere favor-able to personality growth will be mentioned. Postu-lants, like other normal young women, negd to be free to agsociate with young people of their own age who are 1~Thomas Dubay, S.M., "Psychological Needs in the Religious Context," REvmw FOR Ra~LIGXOUS, V. 21 (1962), p. 525. ~s Refer' to the article by Eugene Kennedy noted above. ~ Trafford Maher, s.J., Lest We Build on Sand, (St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Association, 1962), pp. 203-208. not necessarily in the religious state. Means should some-how be provided for them to meet and make friends out-side the convent on an intellectual and social level. They will grow through these new interpersonal relationships, for in growing concerned and interested in others, there is a loss of self-centeredness. In listening to the prob-lems of a new college girl friend, the postulant may come to appreciate her own life more. And in relating to a boy of her own age, she will grow in maturity and womanliness. Yes, the postulant should have contact with boys. She grew up amid boys in her family, neighborhood,: and school. She hopefully had the experience of dating. Now after she enters the convent, why should the sight of a person of the opposite sex be denied her? Will the sight of a boy suddenly be harmful to her? It would be so much healthier if she could continue to relate to young men of her own age especially. In relating to them, she grows in femininity, which is very important to her as a young woman. If there is a danger to chastity, if the postulant is not able to control her sexual drives, then it is certainly best for her and for the community to find this out soon. How sad it is for women who have taken vows to discover they cannot speak to a man on the school faculty or a doctor on the staff without becom-ing either rigid and afraid or sexually stimulated. To permit these healthful relationships with other young people, the postulants could be permitted tO at-tend (sometimes without their directress) Newman Club gatherings, interfaith meetings, weekend retreats, and an occasional evening concert or drama. Healthful personality growth in the convent does not just happen. The proper atmosphere has to be prepared and sustained. This is the task of the postulant di-rectress. She must know the characteristics and needs of the young women she is guiding. She must accept and love them unconditionally and provide them with op-portunities for growth in love, responsibility, and womanliness. "Every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality development together with (and we might add because of) their achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity." ~0 SUPPLEMENTARY ]~IBLIOGRAPHY Allport, Gordon. Pattern and Growth in Personality. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961. Cameron, Norman. Personality Development and Psychopathol-ogy: A Dynamic Approach. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1963. Edward Carney, OSFS. "The Seminary Rule," National Catholic ~0 Dubay, p. 523. ÷ ÷ Pos~laney VOLUME 27, 1%8 62] Education Association Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 108-114. D'Arcy, Paul."'Differentlated Seminary Discipline," NCEA Bul-letin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), 85-91. Dignan, Sister Howard, B.V.M. "Identity and Change in Re-ligious Life," RrvIEw fOR RV.LICIOUS, XXV, 4 (July, 1966), 669-677. Dondero, Autin, F.S.C. No Borrowed Light: Mental Health for Religious. Milwaukee: Bruce, 1965. Frick, Willard. "Healthy Interpersonal Relationships'. an Ex-ploratory Study," Journal of Individual Psychology, XXIII, 1 (May, 1967), 59-66. Gallen, Joseph, s.J., "Femininity and Spirituality," REVIEW for RrL~G~OUS, XX, 4 (July, 1964), 237-256. Goldberg, Arthur. "J.uvenatrics'. Study of Prolonged Adoles-cence," The Cleartng House, XLI, 5 (December, 1966), 218- 222. Hargadon, Kevin, F.S.C. "Psychological Requirement for Re-ligious Vocation," National Catholic Guidance Conference Journal, X, 4 (Summer, 1966), 271-279. Huyghe, Gerard. Tension and Change: The Problems of Re-ligious Orders Today. Westminster: Newman, 1966. McKinney, Fred. Psychology o[ Personal ~ld]ustment. New York: Wiley, 1941. Maher, Trafford, S.J. Self--.4 Measureless Sea (Cou.nseling: Theory and Practice). St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Associa-tion, 1966. Regan, Francis. "Authority and Obedience in Seminary Train-ing," NCE/1 Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 103-107. Rogers, Carl. On Becoming a Person. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960. Schneiders, Alexander. "Adolescence and the Challenge of Ma-turity," National Catholic Guidance ConIerence Journal, X, 2 (Winter, 1966), 109-117. Simmons, Joseph, C.S.C. "Seminary as Institution," Catholic Education Review, LXIV, 26 (February 1966), 97-105. Stafford, John, C.S.V. "The Religious Rule and Psychological Development," Rrvxv.w voR R~ioIo~s, XXV, 2 (March, 1966), 294-304. Van Kaam, Adrian. Personality Fulfillment in the Religious Life. ~.Vilkes-Barre: Dimension Books, 1967. Walters, Sister Annette, S.C.J. "Attitudes, Values, and Motiva-tional Systems of the American Catholic Woman College Student," Catholic Psychological Record, IV, 1 (Spring, 1966), 20-34. Wilson, C. R. "Self-Acceptance and Religious Security," R~vi~w vo~ R~Lxcxoos, XXI, 6 (November, 1962), 555-559. 4- 4- $i~t~r M." Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Proper Juridical Articles of.Constitutions In the article, "Constitutions without Canons," REw~.w fOR R~.LIOIOUS, May, 1968, the purpose was to eliminate as far as possible the canons or laws of the Church from the constitutions of congregations of sisters and brothers. The result would be that the constitutions would almost completely consist of laws proper to the particular institute, which is the nature and definition of constitntions. These proper juridical laws are n~cessary determinations of matters that are undetermined in canon law or' matters over and above the norms of canon law. It was also advised in the same article that all detailed matters now found in constitutions should be placed in the custom book or in a similar book. The present article lists in 'the first section the juridical topics of proper law that should be in the constitutions, and in the second section gives added matters that I now believe should also be placed in the custom book, that is, matters over and above those put in the custom book in the "Constitutions Without Canons" article. The number in parenthesis after each topic is that of the corresponding article in "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," RrwEw for REL~C~OUS, 25 (1966), 361--~57. The vote of a council is mentioned in the first sec-tion for the purpose of information, but we recom-mended in the "Constitutions without Canons" article that all votes of councils be confined to lists in the cus-tom book. The listing of the matters proper to each institute will also enable all o[ these to make a more accurate study of the juridical matters that should constitute the proper law of an institute. This can result ultimately at least in the increase,or decrease o[ the matters listed in this article. A close study of this aspect was not too easy ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, $.J.," writes ~rom St. Joseph's Church; ~1 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania VOLUME 27, 1968 in the past due to the large number of canons contained in the constitutions. I. MATTERS THAT MUST BE l~TAINED IN THE CONSTITUTIONS ]oseph F. Gallen, s.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1. General purpose (1) 2. Special purpose (2) 3. Authorization necessary [or a change in the special purpose or in the particular works (3-4) 4. Classes of members (5)1 5. Authorization necessary for a change in the reli-gious habit (16) 6. Superior competent to admit to the postulancy and any vote of a council (38)2 7. Duration of postulancy beyond six months (40) 8. Higher superior competent' to prolong the postu-lancy and any vote of a council (40); to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months and any vote of a council (40)3 9, Superior competent to dismiss a postulant and any vote of a council (38)4 1 "Unless the state of affairs suggests otherwise, care must be taken to produce in women's communities a single category of sisters" (Ab-bott- Gallagher, The Documents oI Vatican li [paperback edition], 478). * The Code of Canon Law contains no legislation concerning the superior competent to admit to the postulancy. The matter is there-fore governed by the particular constitutions. In the modern practice of the Holy See the mother general has the right of admission when the congregation is not divided into provinces; if such a division exists, this right is given to the higher superiors or to the mother general for the entire congregation and to the mothers provincial for their own provinces. In the latter type of congregation the right is sometimes given only to the mother general. A very small number of congregations demand the consultative vote of the respective council and an equally small number prescribe a deliberative vote. * Canon 539, § 2, gives the right of prolonging the postulancy to higher superiors. In the constitutions the higher superior who has the right of admission is also the one who has the right of prolonga-tion. Therefore, this matter was explained in the preceding note, and the statements there made on the consultative' and deliberative vote are also applicable here. Recent constitutiofis permit the mother general, provincial, or higher superiors to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months provided a postulancy of six months is preserved. At times no vote, th( consultative, or even the deliberative vote o[ the respective council has been prescribed for the abbreviation (REVIEW for RELI¢IOVS, 21 [1962], 409). * In the practice o[ the Sacred Congregation of Religious, the dis-missal of postulants is reserved in the same manner as admission to higher superiors. Some constitutions demand a consultative vote of the council for dismissal even though no vote was required for ad-mission. A few constitutions give a local superior the right of dis-missing a postulant in an urgent case. I0. Higher superior competent to admit to the novice-ship and vote of a council (44)5 11. Authority competen.t for the establishment or transfer of a novitiate (46) 12. Necessity or advisability of a novitiate in each province (47)° 13. Duration of a noviceship beyond a year (50)7 14. Authority competent to dispense from the second year of noviceship (50) 15. Manner of beginning the noviceship (52) 16. Superior competent for the dismissal of a novice and any vote of a council (67)s "In virtue of canon 543 admission to the noviceship appertains to a higher superior, and consequently to the mother general or provincial in a centralized institute, to the superior of a monastery of nuns, and to the mother superior in a congregation that has a similar monastic structure. The same canon demands that the council or chapter have a vote in this admission. The particular constitutions decide whether the council or the chapter has the vote. In centralized institutes the council will always have the vote; in monasteries of nuns and insti. tutes of similar structure the chapter has the vote, but there can be also a previous vote of the council. It is likewise left to the constitu-tions to determine whether this vote of the council or chapter is deliberative or consultative. According to the ordinary practice of the Sacred Congregation the vote is deliberative, but in a few congre-gations it is only consultative. Congregations divided into provinces can have variations. The competent higher superior is frequently the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council, but often this must be supple-mented by the confirmation, approval, or consent'of the mother general either alone or with the deliberative or consultative vote of the general council. In other constitutions admission appertains to the mother general or the higher superior with the deliberative or consultative vote of the council, and, finally, in some institutes the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council merely proposes the admission to the mother general, who admits with the deliberative vote of her council. ~ Canon law does not oblige each province to have its own novitb ate, but the constitutions impose this obligation either absolutely or as far as it is possible. The Normae of 1901 stated that it was appro-priate for each province to have its own novitiate (n. 303). ¢ Canon 555, § 2, states that a period beyond a year demanded for the noviceship by the particular constitutions is not required for validity unless this is expressly stated in the constitutions. In practice it is required only for liceity. This longer period is practically always two years, but a few institutes have a noviceship of eighteen months. S According to canon'571, § 1, the competent authority for the dismissal of a novice is the superior or the chapter according to the constitutions. In the practice of the Sacred Congregation, the dis-missal of a novice is reserved to higher superiors with the vote of the council, which is more frequently consultative than deliberative. In congregations without provinces, this higher superior is the mother general. In congregations with provinces, the right is more frequently reserved to the mother general, but in some institutes it is given to the higher superior or the mother provincial. When the right is reserved to the mother general, the constitutions at times enact that the mother provincial and her council are to be con-sulted. Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ ÷ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 17. Superior competent for the prolongation of the noviceship and any vote of a council (68)9 18. Duration. of temporary vows beyond three years; length of each temporary profession, for example, one of three, another of two years, or vice versa; five annual professions, and so forth (72) 19. Higher superior competent to admit to the pro-fessions, to prolong temporary profession, and vote of a council (73)1° ~ Canon 571, § 2, gives the right of prolongation of the noviceship to higher superiors but does not prescribe any vote of the council. Great variety is found in this matter in constitutions. In congregations without provinces, the right appertains to the mother general. The constitutions often demand no vote but in some the consultative and less frequently the deliberative vote of the council is prescribed. In congregations divided into provinces, the right of prolongation is given to the higher superior or the mother general, alone or with the consultative or deliberative vote of the respective council. 10 In virtue of canon 543, only a higher superior is competent to admit to any religious profession, whether temporary (first, renewal, or prolongation), or perpetual (solemn or simple). The competent higher superior is the mother superior in a congregation that has the monastic'structure and the mother general in a~centralized congrega-tion that is not divided into pr6vinces. In a congregation that has provinces, the constitutions determine whether the one admitting is the mother general or the mother provincial. Such constitutions fre-quently reserve the admissions to all professions to the mother gen-eral. This right is often given also to the mother provincial or higher superiors. Frequently also, and especially for perpetual profession, the mother provincial admits but her admission mnst be confirmed by the mother general. In a few institutes, at least sonde admissions ap-pertain to the mother general and her council but the request for the admission is made by the mother provincial with her council, for example, with the deliberative vote of this council for admiss!on to first temporary profession. If the constitutions do not determine the legitimate higher superior for the prolongation of temporary vows (c. 574, § 2), this appertains to the higher superior who has the right of admitting to either temporary or perpetual profession, but more probably to the latter when the higher superior for both of these admissions is not the same in the law of the constitutions. Canon 543 demands that there be a vote of the council or chapter, without specifying whether the vote is to be deliberative or consulta-tive, for admission to first temporary profession and perpetual pro-fession, whether simple 9r solemn, but not for the renewal of tem-porary vows nor for the prolongation of temporary profession. Canon 575, § 2, demands that the vote for the first temporary profession be deliberative, which is also to be extended to institutes in which the first profession is perpetual by privilege. The same canon appears to prescribe that the vote for the perpetual profession, simple or solemn, be only consultative; but the Holy See in approving consti-tutions interprets the canon as permitting a deliberative vote. There-fore, the Code of Canon Law permits either a consultative or delibera-tive vote for perpetual profession. In centralized congregations the council of the competent higher superior always has the vote. In congregations that have the monastic structure, the chapter has the vote; but there can also be a previous vote of the council. In the constitutions of centralized congregations: (1) the vote of the council.for the first temporary prgfession must be deliberative by reason of canon 575, § 2; (2) for renewals of temporary professions the constitutions commonly prescribe the consultative 20. Superior competent to permit an anticipated re-newal of temporary vows and any vote of a council (78)11 21. Authority competent to dispense from duration of temporary vows beyond three years (74) 22. Superior competent to receive the vows (74) 23. Formula of professions (75) 24. Definition of the vow of poverty (82) 25. Prescription on common life with regard to pov-erty (93) 26. Definition of the vow of chastity (94) 27. Definition of the vow of obedience (95-6, 100) 28. Obligation to obey constitutions and other orders of superiors (99) 29. Superior competent to exclude from renewing temporary vows or from making perpetual profession and any vote of a council (152)t-° 30. (Diocesan) A petition for dismissal of a professed of temporary vows must be made by the mother general and any vote of her council (155)la 31. Previous judgment on the incorrigibility and dis-missal of a. professed of perpetual vows and vote of coun-cil (158)a4 32. Superior competent for the declaration of fact in an automatic dismissal and vote of council (161)15 vote; (3) for the prolongation of temporary vows, the constitutions more frequently demand no vote but some require the consultative and a few the deliberative vote; (4) for perpetual profession the vote prescribed by the constitutions is practically always consultative. a According to canon 577, § 2, an anticipation as such may be per-mitted by any superior, whether a higher or minor local. However, this right is only to admit an anticipation. Since the renewal is a juridical profession, all the requisites of such a profession must be observed, and therefore the admission must be made by the compe-tent higher superior according to the constitutions, as explained in the preceding note. In constitutions an anticipation is usually re-served to a higher superior or to a particular higher superior. ~ Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultative vote of her couucil, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superiors cither alone or with the consultative or, less frequently, the delibera-tive vote of the council (REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS, 25 [1966], 391). ~ In a diocesan congregation the superior general will present the petition for a dismissal to the local ordinary, but the constitutions will frequently require the consultative or deliberative vote of her council for such a petition (REVIEW fOR RELmtOUS, 16 [1957], 272). x, Canon law does not clearly demand the intervention of the mother general nor of her council in the dismissal of a professed of perpetual vows. However, from analogy with the law on the dismis-sal of religious men of perpetual vows and the constant practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in the approval of constitutions, the dismissal of a professed woman of perpetual vows in both pon-tifical and diocesan congregations is to be referred to the mot